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A growing apprecition: Preludes and Fugues by Shostakovich

Melnikov and ShostakovichPerhaps it has been a deficiency in my musical education, but I have found it hard to warm to Shostakovich’s Preludes and Fugues.

Written in 1950-51 and influenced by Bach and in a lineage of prelude collections by Chopin, Scriabin, Busoni, Debussy, and Rachmaninoff, these works have generally remained on the outskirts of the repertoire.

This is changing however, in part due to the championing of Alexander Melnikov, who will give us a still rare opportunity to hear a significant portion of Shostakovich’s Preludes and Fugues on November 13. This will certainly be the first time I will hear more than one or two of the prelude-fugue pairs at one time.

Because of Melnikov’s program, and more because I am turning pages for this performance, I thought it incumbent on me to learn more about this great composer’s magnum opus.

My new appreciation began with the arrival of Robert Markow’s programme notes. He wrote: “In their vast range of textures, figurations, rhythmic devices, characterizations, compositional procedures and moods, Shostakovich’s 24 preludes and fugues rank as one of the monuments of twentieth-century piano literature.” You can read the full set of notes here.

Alexander Melnikov wrote in the liner notes to his own recording, “we hear the voice of a tormented man, finding again and again the superhuman force to face life as it is – in all its variety, ugliness, and sometimes beauty.” Hear more about Melnikov’s thoughts on Shostakovich in this video.

There is no doubt all of this is revealed in Melnikov’s 2010 recording, which has contributed to a rediscovery of the Preludes and Fugues and the next stage of my appreciation.

Played with “clarity” and “virtuosity and audacity” (The New York Times), the Neo-Classical elements of the pieces resound, and Shostakovich’s response to his self-imposed aesthetic restriction is endlessly inventive and inspired (imagine writing in a clearly defined tonal centre in the 1950s!).

Each listening of Melnikov’s recording exposes the depth and breadth of these bold works and, as suggested in The Guardian, “Alexander Melnikov makes you wonder why these works are considered monotonous or didactic.”

Indeed, I now have to wonder why it is we do not hear these works more frequently, and how it is they have been missing in my musical appreciation. That has all changed in the hands of Alexander Melnikov.

Paul Gravett
Executive Director

Alexander Melnikov performs at the Chan Centre for the Performing Arts on Sunday, November 13 at 3pm. Tickets are available from the VRS Box Office, call Cory at 604-602-0363. Tickets are also available from Ticketmaster either online at ticketmaster.ca or call 1-855-985-2787 (service charges apply).

Program Notes: Shostakovich Preludes and Fugues

Dmitri Shostakovich: 12 Preludes and Fugues from Op. 87

Like many of the great composers before him (Bach, Handel, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Liszt and Rachmaninoff, among others), Shostakovich possessed the skills of a keyboard virtuoso, and might well have sustained a successful career as such. Among his prizes was one from the First International Chopin Competition in Warsaw (1927). But Shostakovich’s compositional talent also showed itself early. His graduation exercise from the Leningrad Conservatory, the First Symphony, catapulted him at the age of twenty to worldwide attention, and he decided to devote the bulk of his efforts to composition. Significantly enough, the First Symphony contained a prominent part for the piano. Shostakovich continued to write music for his instrument throughout his twenties – about half his output during these years was for or with piano – which he also performed. Thereafter, coinciding with the sharp reduction of his performing activity, he wrote only seldom for solo piano. Among the works of his later years was the monumental set of 24 Preludes and Fugues, Op. 87, written in late 1950 and early 1951.

The inspiration came principally from Bach, as it has for similar sets from other composers: Hans Huber, Castelnuovo-Tedesco (for guitar duo) and Niels Viggo Bentzon for preludes and fugues together; Chopin, Scriabin, Busoni, Debussy, Rachmaninoff and Shostakovich himself (Op. 34) for preludes alone. In 1950, Shostakovich was sent by his government as the head of a Soviet delegation to East Germany for the ceremonies surrounding the bicentenary of the death of Johann Sebastian Bach. Among the events was a piano competition in Leipzig, where Shostakovich sat on the jury. One of the contestants was the 26-year-old Tatyana Nikolayeva, whose playing of the Well-Tempered Clavier so impressed Shostakovich that upon returning to Moscow, he undertook to create a similar work himself. Unlike Bach’s two books of preludes and fugues, each of which proceeds up the steps of the chromatic scale alternating major and minor keys (C – C-sharp – D, etc.), Shostakovich’s (like Chopin’s) move through the so-called “circle of fifths,” which begins with C major and its  relative minor (A), then adds one sharp for G major/E minor, then two sharps, etc. (at this point the flat keys take over in reverse order, decreasing in number down to one – F major/D minor – where the cycle ends).

The first performance presented what amounted only to a teaser: Shostakovich offered four of the preludes and fugues at a recital on November 18, 1951 in Leningrad’s Glinka Hall. The cycle was not given as a unit until a year later when Tatiana Nikolayeva performed it at the same venue in two sessions, on December 23 and 28, 1952. There is conflicting evidence as to Shostakovich’s feelings about whether the 2½-hour cycle should be played complete in performance. He himself never did so, though he recorded all of it. He did often perform the preludes and fugues in groups of three to six, as have many other pianists, notably Sviatoslav Richter and Emil Gilels. Selected numbers have been arranged for such diverse instruments as organ, accordion, double bass with piano and string orchestra.

In their vast range of textures, figurations, rhythmic devices, characterizations, compositional procedures and moods, Shostakovich’s 24 preludes and fugues rank as one of the monuments of  twentieth-century piano literature. To Tatiana Nikolayeva, it is music “of great depth, of unsurpassed mastery and greatness. They are 24 masterpieces, each with its own internal world. …The breadth of images and characterizations is very great: from tragedy to humor, from gaiety to the grotesque.” Musicologist Wilfrid Mellers maintains that “if there is a single work among his large output that assures us that Shostakovich is among the handful of great composers [of the twentieth century], this collection is it.” And for tonight’s pianist, Alexander Melnikov, “we hear the voice of a tormented man, finding again and again the superhuman force to face life as it is – in all its variety, ugliness, and sometimes beauty.”

In an interview accompanying his recording of the 24 Preludes and Fugues, Melnikov suggests that one of Shostakovich’s aims was to see what he could do with the forms beyond Bach, what he could do with material completely unsuitable as a fugal subject. Take for example the first fugue (C major), which employs only the white keys of the piano throughout, or the seventh (A major), whose subject is built entirely from a major triad. In the preludes too, there is in each one a sense of experimentation, of compressing a single idea into a few pages of music to see where it will go. Each one has a “message.”

NO. 1 IN C MAJOR: The cycle gets underway with a sarabande, a stately Baroque dance in slow triple meter with its characteristic rhythmic pattern. Chordal writing alternates with flowing chromatic passages. The fugal subject is built almost entirely from the intervals of the fourth and the fifth.

NO. 2 IN A MINOR: The Prelude is a toccata-like affair (“pure harpsichord textures,” says Melnikov), with a single line of rapid sixteenth-notes running in perpetual motion throughout. The Fugue has been compared to some of Shostakovich’s polkas for its jaunty, humorous mood. The five-note rhythmic cell upon which it is based recalls a jocular passage from the third movement of the Fourth Symphony.

NO. 3 IN G MAJOR: The stern Prelude sounds like its inspiration could have come from a liturgical chant, while the Fugue could not be more different in character – witty, playful, dancelike, and demanding virtuosity and crystalline clarity of execution to make its effect.

NO. 4 IN E MINOR: The Prelude is a three-part texture consisting of (1) ponderous, sustained octaves in the depths of the piano’s range; (2) a continuous, even stream of eighth notes, usually in the middle voice; and (3) a slower-moving melodic line that includes numerous “sighs.” (Bach associated E minor with the Crucifixion.) The Fugue is actually a double fugue. Two separate subjects are introduced in turn (the second in slightly faster tempo), then are combined fortissimo in a towering musical edifice.

NO. 5 IN D MAJOR: “A graceful, wistful dance-song over a lightly arpeggiated accompaniment” is how Wilfrid Mellers describes this Prelude. The Fugue consists of “a theme stuttering in repeated notes, with farcical clownish effect.”

NO. 6 IN B MINOR: A striking Prelude built on the double-dotted rhythmic figure (extra-long notes alternating with extra-short ones) flashes fire and energy in contrast to its Fugue, notable for a flowing, placid surface.

NO. 7 IN A MAJOR: The spirit of Bach hovers over the Prelude. Its meter of 12/8 (four groups of triplets) was far more common in the Baroque era than it is today. The fugal subject is based entirely on the notes of the tonic chord (A – C-sharp – E). This fugue might be considered Shostakovich’s “water music” inasmuch as the texture – glistening, sparkling, gently undulating – not to mention the continuous development of a single arpeggiated chord, bring to mind the opening scene of Wagner’s opera Das Rheingold.

NO. 8 IN F SHARP MINOR: One of the briefest preludes sits beside the longest fugue by far of the twelve we hear tonight – nearly nine minutes in Melnikov’s performance. The Prelude is written in simple two-part texture, and in Shostakovich’s inimitable fashion combines a playful ambiance with a touch of the sinister. It is also the first prelude we have encountered to feature Shostakovich’s hallmark rhythmic pattern, short-short-long. The Fugue too incorporates this rhythmic figure into its fold. The subject is exceptionally long – nine measures – and thereafter unwinds in three-part texture to an unrelenting tread and highly dissonant harmony.

NO. 9 IN E MAJOR: In a reversal of the process found in the previous Prelude and Fugue, No. 9’s focal weight rests in its Prelude – longer by far than the Fugue. This Prelude is also notable for its extremes of range, which cover nearly the entire keyboard; three staves are required to notate it. The Fugue is the only one of the 24 in two voices only, and exudes an atmosphere of joy and exuberance. Many listeners hear in it strong reverberations of a Bach two-part invention.

NO. 10 IN C SHARP MINOR: Again the spirit of Bach informs this Prelude. In fact, it, as well as its Fugue, is often regarded as the most Bachian of the set. The words of Bach biographer Philipp Spitta regarding the C sharp minor Fugue in Book I of the Well-tempered Clavier might equally apply to Shostakovich’s in the same key: “…it is as though we were drifting rapidly over a wide ocean; wave rises over wave … as far as the eye can reach, and the brooding heavens bend solemnly over the mighty scene.”

NO. 11 IN B MAJOR:  The B major Prelude suggests an orchestral conception, particularly the jocular, light-hearted movements of Symphonies Nos. 6 and 9. For sheer, unabashed joy and an almost reckless sense of abandon, the Fugue is hard to beat.

NO. 12 IN G SHARP MINOR: The Prelude is written in passacaglia form (a method of composition in which a set of variations is constructed over a repeating bass line or chord progression). As the key of G sharp minor has five sharps, the meter for the Fugue is appropriately 5/4. The intellectual rigor with which Shostakovich creates a fugue from his angular, raw-boned subject is truly awe-inspiring. Melnikov calls it “the most harmonically complex fugue of the cycle so far, played at a breakneck pace, reaching an impossible degree of emotional strain and desperation. Thus, the stage is set for the culmination of the first volume.”

Programme notes by Robert Markow, 2011.

Getting to Know: Juho Pohjonen

“I receive something valuable through music – and I hope that each listener will feel that they have too.”

On his music education:Pohjonen email
“I started to play violin in a children’s music school at the age of two-and-a-half. My brother – now also a professional pianist and a composer – was already studying piano at the Sibelius Academy, so it was a natural decision for me to play an instrument as well. When I was four, I began to study piano at the suggestion of the piano teacher in the music school.”

“I played violin for several years before I realized I would never become a violinist, the physics of it. I don’t have the flexibility for it. But piano — I have never had any trouble acquiring the techniques.”

On his major professional debut at Carnegie Hall in 2004:
“There was a cancellation at Carnegie Hall. Another Finnish pianist was going to play there, but he had to cancel because he got another concert. So I went there and got a very good tribute from the New York Times.”

Influences:
“Andràs Schiff has always been one of my favourite pianists, so I was delighted to become acquainted with him at a masterclass he gave at the Sibelius Academy in Helsinki in 2003. Since then he has invited me to his courses elsewhere in Europe, such as in Lucerne and Schwarzenberg, and I’ve also had some private lessons with him. Salonen’s music became familiar to me when I was 16 years old; I selected his piece Yta II for a national piano competition in Finland, where I was awarded a special prize for the best performance of a contemporary Finnish work. However, I didn’t get to know Salonen personally until 2004 – and it was Mr. Schiff who introduced me to him. Schiff found out that I was about to perform all Salonen’s piano works at my debut recital in New York, and he thought I should first play them to the composer. Naturally, I was excited to have a chance to meet the composer of music I had studied for nearly 10 years. Eventually, I played the pieces to him, and he liked the performance — so much so that he later brought his manager to my recital in Helsinki, and that is how I came to be with the Van Walsum agency.”

“Praise is always nice, but usually I listen to other musicians instead of critics — I can get much better feedback.”

On performing:
“Of course, every public performance has the potential to be a key moment – at least that’s how I treat it – but many key moments happen off-stage, such as inner discoveries related to piano playing: my ambitions relate above all to my development as a musician and as an individual. I receive something valuable through music – and I hope that each listener will feel that they have too.”

On Finland:
“I really like the nature in Finland and the landscape, and I guess that reflects in my playing. I think that we have a very unique culture, which is not really European and it’s not Russian or anything else. It’s very unique.”
 
“Geographic isolation has preserved many unique features of our culture, and this enables us to look at Western art from an original viewpoint and create something new from it.”

(Sources: Kalamazoo Gazette, juhopohjonen.com)

A Passing Thought

GiltburgOur 32nd season opened this past Sunday with the Russian-born, Israeli-based pianist Boris Giltburg. He may be young (27 years), and he may not be a household name, but he left no doubt he is an artist to watch.

The buzz in the lobby at intermission was great: one woman described to me his ‘magic fingers’ and the beauty of the tone Boris summoned from the piano. No bashing here.

Boris’s program avoided the crowd-pleasing, bravura works that are often the mainstay of the recital stage, but his repertoire of Prokofiev, Bartok, Franck and Liszt still would have tested the mettle of any pianist. For me, what really set his playing apart were the breathtaking, gossamer pianissimos (if you attended the performance, think of the slow movement of the Prokofiev Sonata). Anyone who has played an instrument knows, it is one thing to make a loud sound, it is entirely different to produce the quietest tones and still have your instrument ‘speak’ with clarion tones.

Boris was charming and gracious in the question-and-answer session that followed his performance. It made the afternoon all that more special to have a glimpse into Boris’s life as a touring musician and his insight into his artistic choices.

Thank you Boris – it was a great way to begin the season!

We would love to hear what you have to say about our opening recital. You can leave your comments here.

Paul Gravett
Executive Director

PS  Boris graced us with two encores: the Rachmaninoff arrangement of Kreisler’s Liebesleid, and the Prelude in C sharp minor, again by Rachmaninoff.

Serving Up Virtuosity

I read with interest a New York Times article (found here) about the plethora of virtuosi currently found on the concert stages.

According to the author, Anthony Tommasini, there are perhaps more technically gifted pianists now than at any other time. Compositions that were once the exclusive domain of the rare pianists are now commonplace on the concert stage.

Interestingly, Tommasini suggests today’s concert-goer does not necessarily appreciate the upsurge in technical prowess due to the simple fact that phenomenal technique is now expected.

Tommasini goes on to describe reasons for the increased dexterity (“learning to practice the craft better, becoming better conditioned”), as well as two types of pianistic groups: those who have the technique to play anything and those who have the technique to play the music that is most important to them.

Throughout the article many pianists are cited, almost all of whom are very familiar to the VRS audiences. We posted a link to the article on the VRS Facebook page last week. In response, David Gordon Duke wrote that the article “made me think about how remarkable our Vancouver recital diet has been over the years”.

Perhaps with a little bravura of our own, we thought it would be fun to list the pianists mentioned by Tommasini along with some of their performance dates.

Yuja Wang (November 2008, May 2010); Lang Lang (October 1999, March 2002, November 2004, October 2008, January 2011); Yundi Li (April 2004, April 2006); Pierre-Laurent Aimard (October 2003, October 2007); Nikolai Lugansky (February 2009); Piotr Anderszewski (March 2003, October 2008); Richard Goode (February 1998, April 2001, April 2005, February 2007); Jean-Yves Thibaudet (January 1999, April 2001); Evgeny Kissin (September 1996); and Stephen  Hough (February 1991, October 2000).

It reads like a VRS season made in heaven!

We are equally proud to be presenting three more mentioned pianists in our upcoming season: Kirill Gerstein, the Gilmore Artist Award-winning pianist performing on Thursday, April 19; Alfred Brendel, who offers a lecture on Friday, October 21; and pianist András Schiff, who will perform with baritone Christian Gerhaher on Monday, May 14.

The Vancouver recital diet has indeed been rich, and the Vancouver Recital Society is more the pleased to provide the menu.

Paul Gravett
Executive Director

P.S. Mr. Schiff made his Canadian debut on our series at the Arts Club on Granville Island in 1982. Leila describes it as “one of the landmark concerts of my life”.

Alfred Brendel Returns To Vancouver

alfredbrendel.070346I had the privilege of presenting Alfred Brendel three times during the past ten years and each experience was memorable for a myriad of different reasons.

The first time he came to Vancouver, I remember distinctly sitting in a state of extreme nerves at YVR waiting for his plane to arrive. I so desperately wanted to have someone with me that I called the office at least three times to complain about having to go to the airport on my own.

Mr. Brendel had flown in to Vancouver two days before his concert, to check out the piano and our piano technician, and to practice on the instrument he would be playing two days later.

He is taller than I had imagined, and a true European gentleman. His terrifying demeanour dissipates when he smiles. I had heard that he had friends in Vancouver, so I said to him, “Mr. Brendel, I understand you have friends in Vancouver, so will you want to call them to make arrangements to have dinner with them?” He said “they are not in town at the moment” and before I could stop my tongue, I said “does that mean I’m stuck with you for dinner tonight?” He said, with a large grin on his face, “Yes, my dear, I’m afraid you are”.

On a subsequent visit Alfred Brendel came to our home to practice one evening. I had explained to him that we had just had our piano rebuilt and that it hadn’t yet been voiced (a very important part of the procedure). He practiced on it for about an hour and a half and when he was done, he said “your piano sounds like an unmade bed”.

It is rare to meet someone who has such a wide range of interests and knowledge. From music to wine to food to kitsch. He answers questions in great detail and never talks down. He is NEVER boring. Only fascinating. Listening to him is like reading an encyclopedia.

I would like to conclude with a quote from his fascinating book, Alfred Brendel on Music:

“What is piano playing of genius? Playing which is at once correct and bold. Its correctness tells us: that is how it has to be. Its boldness presents us with a surprising and overwhelming realization: what we had thought impossible becomes true.

Correctness can be attained by the expert. But boldness presupposes the gift of projection, which draws the audience into the orbit of one’s personality.”

To learn more about Mr. Brendel’s thoughts on music, I urge you to attend his illustrated lecture entitled Does classical music have to be entirely serious? This is a rare opportunity to experience the reflections of a truly great mind.

The lecture takes place at Roy Barnett Hall on Friday, October 21 at 8pm. Seating is limited and unreserved.  Pleasure is unrestricted.

Leila

A dedication to die over!

When Javier Perianes dedicated his first encore to me (Chopin Nocturne in c sharp minor, Op. 20) at the Vancouver Playhouse I was rendered speechless for at least 20 minutes. What an extraordinarily wonderful thing to have happened.

There’s actually a story behind Perianes and that Nocturne.  This goes back about three years.  I had been dealing with a London Management to book a date for the young Finnish pianist, Juho Pohjonen (on the recommendation of Andras Schiff).  The particular manager with whom I was making the arrangements sent me an email telling me that he had just added another pianist to his roster and he thought that I would really like his playing.  He asked “shall I send you a CD?”….to which I replied “no, not yet, as my season is already fully booked”.  “Wait a couple of months” I said.  He then sent me an email by return which said “oops, I already put it in the mail”.

Of course, I didn’t have the willpower not to open it when it arrived and I put it on.  The Nocturne was the first piece on the CD, and it caused a major stir in the office.  Next thing, before even listening to the rest of the CD, I was frantically trying to fit him in the series for the following year.  I can’t remember displacing anyone, so maybe we just added another concert.  Oh, and because all the literature on the CD was in Spanish I went over to CBC where Gloria Macarenko translated for me.

So now Javier has appeared twice, and hopefully before long, we’ll have him back.

See what you have to do to get a return engagement with the VRS?

Her cup runneth over

Remember that iPod Touch that I confessed to stealing from my husband? Well, now that I’m back in the swing of things, I barely get time to listen to it…and in any case, I’ve been listening to Murray Perahia practising in my living room for the past few days. Murray and I have exchanged quite a few stories (I told him he should write a book when he retires) and one of the items of conversation that came up was concerts in Italy. So, I told him the story of an Italian pianist who played on our series a number of years ago. She is one of my favourites and I loaded this iPod with her recording of Scarlatti Sonatas, which is think is one of the very best. If you know your Scarlatti, you may know whom I’m talking about!  In any case, she performed on our series at the Vancouver Playhouse, and she insisted on being paid in cash at intermission.  This was generally the custom in the country from which she originated.

It was not an insignificant amount of cash, and I asked her manager from Columbia Artists, who was traveling with her, to come with me to the bank to collect the cash. At intermission, both of us went backstage at the Playhouse to deliver the money.  I told her that I was very nervous about giving her the money, because even though we could lock the door to her dressing room, I felt that it still wasn’t safe to leave cash like that lying around.  “Oh no”, she said “you don’t understand!”  Pulling open the front of her blouse, she stuffed the money in her bra and played the second half of the concert with the money on her person, as it were.

Murray Perahia has some wild fans!

A few weeks ago, I was sitting at YVR waiting for a flight to Seattle – Frankfurt – Johannesburg – Cape Town for a reunion with my friends from the College of Music in Cape Town.  My husband recently won an iPod Touch which I quickly appropriated, so now I have finally joined the iPod world, and I’m loving it.  In any case, there I was at the airport listening to Mozart, having downloaded Murray Perahia’s complete recording of the concerti, and I was reminded of an incident on a trip to South Africa about 18 years ago involving Murray Perahia.  Books and CDs cost an absolute fortune in South Africa, so I usually travel with CDs to give friends.  I, and my then-teenage daughter, Sara, were driving from Cape Town to Hermanus (a coastal town about 80 miles from Cape Town) to spend a week with some friends.

The route winds over a very beautiful mountain pass with a lookout at the top.  We parked the car and locked the doors…but forgot to close the rear window.  There are signs all over the place warning of baboons and to keep car windows closed and food out of sight, but we hadn’t noticed that we had left the window open.  So there we were, a few yards away from the car with our cameras in hand, when, all of a sudden a baboon entered the car through the open rear window.  I watched in horror as it rummaged through my handbag which I had left in the back seat.  Out came my wallet.  He tasted it and threw it out of the window.  Next, the passport, which couldn’t have tasted very nice either because it soon followed the wallet (thanks heavens!).  I stood shrieking, much to my daughter’s embarrassment and drew a crowd of onlookers.  Next, the baboon, getting fed up with the fact that he couldn’t find anything edible, seized a Murray Perahia CD, climbed out of the window and ran around the parking lot with it in his hands.  I followed, shouting “oh what a publicity shot!”   The baboon disappeared into the bushes and I’m sure that generations of baboons in the area of Sir Lowry’s pass have grown up listening to Mozart.  My friends in Hermanus never got their gift.

And whilst on the subject of Murray Perahia, it is he who introduced me to YouTube on his last visit to Vancouver. He wanted me to see Dudley Moore doing an imitation of Peter Pears singing Benjamin Britten songs (if you haven’t seen it you really should check it out…you’ll find it under Benjamin Britten).  I have to confess that after that introduction, I spent hours glued to my computer exploring the great musicians of the past and present on YouTube.  And now I’ve even found another weakness of mine, Tony Hancock!

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