The Gamblers (complete)[a]; The Nose, Op. 15 (complete)[b] .
While the orchestral works of Shostakovich have been receiving healthy attention from record companies in recent years, his operas still remain largely neglected. There are but a handful of recordings readily available: two of Lady Macbeth (EMI 49955; DG 437 511-2), one each of The Gamblers fragment (Saison Russe RUS 788115) and Krzysztof Meyer's completion (Capriccio 60 062-2; both reviewed in DSCH No. 9), practically none of Katerina Ismailova. Not much of a handful, even if you include his completion of Fleischmann's Rothschild's Violin (RCA 68434). Which is a shame when we recall that Shostakovich was essentially a master of the theatre, and that one of his greatest passions had been opera. This latest BMG reissue of two Melodiya recording premières is, then, nothing short of a landmark. Finally, listeners get to hear on CD the pivotal early Shostakovich work The Nose in its entirety (previously only available on Praga as a suite accompanying Serov's Shostakovich 15th Symphony; the Le Chant Du Monde's re-release of the 1979 complete recording is now no longer available). It is amazing that such a seminal work has been missing from the discography for as long as it has. The importance of this cannot be understated: once one experiences The Nose, the missing link to the creative genius of Shostakovich is finally restored. The opera throws light on much of his later work: for example, the tone and style of Lady Macbeth, or what otherwise seems a major philosophical upheaval in the sound-world of the 4th Symphony. In The Nose one also hears the roots of that mysterious percussion writing that has haunted listeners from the 4th Symphony to the 15th Symphony. Above all, The Nose puts into perspective the vigorous and remarkably mature mind of the young Shostakovich, the yurodivy in the making, already hinted at by the portentous 1st Symphony but otherwise masked by the deceptively lightweight ballet trilogy and the two sacrificial symphonies that had dominated his early output prior to Lady Macbeth. The two works on this double-CD could not be more different, yet there is a consistency and a clear logic to their coupling. As the first and the last works in Shostakovich's operatic cycle, one gets to appreciate the way his style evolved while remaining essentially unchanged: it is quite clear that the young Shostakovich knew what he was doing from the very start of his career. Both are also heavily reliant on the male voice, which is one of the enduring timbres of his music. And as the very insightful CD notes point out, they are both operas about scoundrels. Put together, these two works present a veritable encyclopaedia of Shostakovichian humour and musical characterisation and satire. The set begins with the live recording of the 1978 world première of The Gamblers performed in Leningrad. This recording is special because Rozhdestvensky cleverly concludes the unfinished opera with a reprise of the Gavryushka ballad spliced with a few bars from Scene 3. The music is on the whole glorious, and the cast of singers perform with a sharp sense of character and plenty of humour. Their style may elude some of the melodic shape of the vocal parts but you will not want to do without a truly gleeful recital of the oafish Gavryushka's balalaika song. And while Chistiakov on Saison Russe launches the opera with far greater excitement than does Rozhdestvensky's more deliberate curtain-raiser (whose music curiously recalls the opening of Stravinsky's L'Histoire du Soldat), the former loses out in terms of orchestral detail and momentum in the final scene. The highlight of the Saison Russe recording is the singing; Chistiakov's cast delivers a more melodic vocal style and are generally more full-bodied and emphatic than the Moscow singers. Unfortunately, the forward placing of the vocals in relation to the muddier orchestral soundstage obscures much of the delicious detail. Rozhdestvensky, on the other hand, has the benefit of a superb recording and engineering (it doesn't sound at all like a 1970s recording!), so well balanced that every orchestral detail is vividly captured. I found myself hearing music that I had not noticed before, and the entire work resonates with new life. The performances are deliciously sharp, and the maestro picks up his pace as the action unfolds so that his last scene far outplays Chistiakov's. (In fact, so transparent is the sound that I suddenly notice a "DSCH" motif on the descending trombones at 1:40 of Track 18!) So, although I rather prefer the singing of the Bolshoi cast, Rozhdestvensky delivers an all-round winning performance. And, as icing on the cake, BMG provide a full index to the 20 tracks, which is a great relief to anyone who owns the Saison Russe disc, which contains an absurdly scant 4 indices. Act 1 of The Nose takes up the rest of the first disc, and, as I mentioned, the two operas have so much in common that one seems to flow seamlessly into the other. But only just; once we get to the first of the opera's notorious moments of total hysteria (the barber's wife literally barks non-stop in her uppermost register upon discovery of the Nose at the breakfast table), we know for sure we are entering a whole new world. The Nose is groundbreaking on many counts, and its music is daring and undeniably brilliant. Shostakovich may be telling the truth when he commented that the opera was not a comedy but a horror story, but its satire is unmistakable. The underlying motive of this work is rightfully not funny at all, but you are forced to laugh at the horror all the same, and Shostakovich knows just how to do it. Juxtaposing terrifying moments with the ridiculous and banal, and using all manner of orchestral and vocal devices, the score constantly assaults your senses. Sometimes you laugh with disbelief, but some moments are genuinely comic (for example, intensely unnerving interludes tend to cut sharply into music of unbelievable idiocy, and solo instruments run amok with mimicry). What may be horrifying is the audacity of this work set against a time when the country was experiencing social upheaval. The Nose may well be Shostakovich's most outspoken and unguarded commentary on Soviet life in the period preceding Lady Macbeth and "Muddle instead of Music". The swipes are obvious: the police inspector is given a ridiculously high voice (perhaps to insinuate impotency) and truly stupid vocal lines; the characters are prone to alternating moments of hysteria and pure inanity; whole scenes are dedicated to mocking the banality of everyday life and the people's tendency for hysteria; and the entire drama of the missing Nose is trivialised. As madcap as it sounds - and in some places, like the scene outside the police station, the music is pure mayhem - the music never sinks into the banal. It is vintage Shostakovich of the highest order through and through. Do not expect to find cheap tuneful polkas and gallops, or popular melodies and dances like in Limpid Stream. The Nose is very serious music indeed. If Lady Macbeth's satire is hidden in the tragic, then The Nose's tragedy is hidden in the gaudy satire. The performance by the Moscow Chamber Theatre is absolutely brilliant. Shostakovich personally oversaw this production, which makes this present recording practically definitive. The singers take on their roles with plenty of zest: the women scream hysterically, Kovalyov weeps pathetically, the police are superbly moronic, and, like in The Gamblers, the balalaika song by Ivan is priceless. The overtly sexual implications are delicious too, as in Kovalyov's wake-up yawns in his first scene, which, together with gurgling contrabassoon and detumescent trombone, unmistakably evoke the sort of vulgarity notorious in Lady Macbeth's sex scene. Rozhdestvensky, who was responsible for rescuing the score from the bowels of the Bolshoi Theatre, thus catalysing the revival of the opera, leads the forces through this complex work with amazing authority. Do not pass over the opportunity to experience the brilliance of Shostakovich's writing, one-off music that would never be heard elsewhere in his genre, like the vocal double-canon octet at the newspaper office or the strange choral vocalises at the Kazan Cathedral. The scenes of complete mayhem will have to be tolerated (and these are taken with devilish abandon by the cast); mercifully they are not as recurrent as one is led to believe. With such stunning performances, credentials and excellent sound, this set ought to be a priority addition to your collection. The Nose is truly an outstanding work, albeit a harshly challenging audio-sensory experience (the faint-hearted are hereby warned). The only downside is the absence of libretti, but Sigrid Neef's summaries and CD notes are extremely thought-provoking and perceptive - I daresay one of the best I have ever read. And do not believe Shostakovich when he told Nikolai Smolich in 1929 that the music "loses all meaning if it is seen just as a musical composition" divorced from the stage action - again I believe he was, in his usual style, saying just the reverse. CH Loh DSCH No. 11. |
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