The Shostakovich cycle with Vladimir Fedoseyev and the Tchaikovsky Symphony Orchestra of Moscow radio will be continued with two further episodes: the energetic fourth symphony and the enigmatic 15th symphony with the suite from the film music to "Five Day Five Nights" Op. 111. The Orchestra has premiered several works by Shostakovich, and Fedosseyev's career is closely linked to the works of the great Russian composer - the best conditions for an ideal interpretation. For nearly 40 years, Vladimir Fedoseyev has led the Tchaikovsky Symphony Orchestra of Moscow Radio in the tradition of his predecessors. His interpretations are famous for their depth, artistic passion and great sensitivity for the national character of Russian music. Maestro Fedoseyev has created in the Orchestra a specific melodious emotional style that distinguishes it from others and has helped it to earn worldwide acclaim. Fedoseyev’s paternal attitude to the musicians of the Orchestra, his aspiration to make each of them a high level musician, has allowed many of the Orchestra’s musicians to perform as soloist, both with the Tchaikovsky Symphony Orchestra of Moscow Radio and other Russian and foreign symphony orchestras.

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

Mikhail Pletnev remains a cypher. Remember how rapturously his first major recording as a conductor, Tchaikovsky's Sixth on Virgin, was greeted? Then he went on to do all the symphonies for DG, and the result was the dullest cycle in history. His Beethoven, on the other hand, was simply perverse: not interestingly perverse, but stupidly perverse. Of course this didn't stop equally stupidly perverse critics from praising it, but that's another story altogether.

Now he turns in a very fine Shostakovich 15th. It has something of the balletic grace that made his initial Pathétique so attractive. The lyrical passages in the second movement and the main theme of the finale have a poised beauty that really is quite striking. Similarly, his light textures in the first movement's "toy" music, as well as the scherzo, tickle the ear and keep the music buoyant.

There is a price, of course, in terms of sharpness of focus and power at the climaxes, not to mention emotional intensity. The xylophone and whip don't cut as they might, and the Wagner quotations in the finale lack a certain atmosphere, but the otherworldly textural clarity that Pletnev achieves in the movement's central passacaglia remains very special. In fact, his relative coolness suits this "spacey" music particularly well.

The coupled Hamlet excerpts do not come from the more familiar film score, but comprise a suite taken from the much earlier incidental music. It's typical youthful Shostakovich: pithy, bright, angular, and lots of fun. It requires little beyond sprightly tempos and a literal reading of the notes to make a fine impression, and that's just what the music receives here. PentaTone's sonics are, like the performance, clear, well-balanced, and a touch lacking in body, whether in stereo or multichannel surround formats. A very recommendable disc.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Mikhail Pletnev's Shostakovich Symphony No. 11 excels beyond the much-hyped Rostropovich version on LSO Live, which suffers from a deadening slow, heavy tread. Pletnev's urgent pacing brings the piece in at around 62 minutes (10 minutes less than Rostropovich), while his lively phrasing, attention to rhythm, and powerful dynamic contrast makes for compelling listening. Even the long, slow first movement--fatal in the wrong hands--remains interesting due to Pletnev's insistent rhythmic pulse and skillfully maintained tension. This tension gets released in the swirling winds and strings of the second movement, and even more so in the gripping march at the movement's conclusion.


The Russian National Orchestra takes on these passages with discernible enthusiasm, if not always razor-sharp articulation. In the slow movement, Pletnev's refusal to belabor the music has Shostakovich's touching theme emerge as a poignant elegy. In the finale, Pletnev drops the main theme's tempo by half--then launches full-speed into the following allegro, creating a bracing dramatic effect. The percussion section is the star of this movement (and in much else of the symphony), with bells and gongs ringing full-out from the orchestra. The brass is pretty impressive too, though occasionally the players don't project quite as they should. However, this could be due to the circumstances of the live recording. Somewhat bright and dry, it nonetheless reproduces with exceptional clarity on stereo SACD. Berglund's 1980 EMI version remains the standard reference, and there have been a number of fine new recordings of this symphony, but Pletnev's is a good choice for those desiring to hear the Eleventh played by a Russian orchestra, in modern sound.
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Billed as the start of a new complete Shostakovich symphony cycle, this initial entry holds a great deal of promise. The Eleventh Symphony has more the character of a film score than a traditional symphonic work: it thrives on atmosphere, color, and the repetition of simple tunes and motives rather than drama created by development and tonal contrast. Conductor Vasily Petrenko certainly understands this, whether in capturing the ghostly string timbres of the opening (reinforced by celesta on its many subsequent returns), in the crushing massacre sequence in the second movement, or in the splashy ending, with cymbals, bells, and tam-tam making cinematic contributions.

Petrenko's also very sensible in his handling of tempo. The first and third movements don't drag; the second and fourth have plenty of excitement with rhythms that never turn mechanical (as they have a tendency to do, what with so much militaristic march music). The Royal Liverpool Philharmonic plays very well, with distinguished contributions from all departments. My only quibble concerns the slightly backward positioning and lack of clarity afforded the timpanist, who carries much of the thematic substance of the first movement and presides over the massacre's percussion fusillades. Otherwise, this is pretty terrific on all counts. I recommend it accordingly, and look forward to the continuation of the cycle. [4/2/2009]

--David Hurwitz, ClassicssToday.com

It's a curious coincidence that so-called "second tier" U.K. orchestras, which so often play better than their London counterparts, have a lock on this particular symphony. For years my reference recording has been the sensational Berglund/Bournemouth set on EMI, outstandingly well recorded and originally coupled with an equally spectacular account of the Sixth Symphony. This new recording, even more sonically stunning both in stereo and SACD multichannel formats, might just be better still. Alexander Lazarev takes the opening movement at a much more flowing tempo than we usually hear (about 15 minutes in all, and three minutes quicker than Berglund), and since absolutely nothing noteworthy happens in it beyond the setting of mood, this strikes me as an excellent idea. Here (and throughout), the playing of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra brass section is beautifully contoured in quiet passages, only to become crushingly powerful in the climaxes that pepper the violent second movement. Lazarev's "massacre" section is one of the best (you know what I mean).


The most controversial aspect of this interpretation will be the elegiac third movement, which Lazarev conducts at almost double the tempo of some other versions. It lasts a bit less than nine minutes, and it's certainly not an adagio, but it sounds wonderful when treated this way. For once the principal theme really sings (after all, it is a genuine revolutionary song), almost like one of Tchaikovsky's soulful, Russian-style melodies, and with so much other slow music in both the first and second movements Lazarev's decision makes excellent sense. He and his Scottish players then tear into the finale with a vengeance, culminating in the most hair-raising coda yet captured on disc, with crashing cymbals and tam-tam, clangorous bells, and a floor-shaking bass drum. It will take your breath away. We can only hope that Linn continues what promises to be a very exciting partnership with this excellent orchestra. A "demonstration disc" if ever there were one. Buy it, and drive your neighbors crazy. [5/18/2005]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

The Twelfth is not Shostakovich's best symphony, but it's not as bad as its detractors would have us believe. The first two movements in particular are effectively structured and, respectively, cinematically exciting and quite atmospheric. The finale, especially its coda, is so telling an example of Socialist Realist triumph that it can only be accepted as a parody; and played without apology, as here, it works very well. Indeed, Vasily Petrenko leads a first movement that beats just about everyone in terms of sheer excitement, and the same holds true of the transitional third movement, "Aurora". As for that problematic finale, it has an appealing lightness (before the coda) that avoids any impression of facile note-spinning. If you don't like this symphony, give this performance a shot. It may change your mind.

The Sixth is far less troublesome, but Petrenko's vision is no less probing. At nearly 20 minutes the first movement is very slow, but wholly gripping. Petrenko takes the scherzo dazzlingly fast, but paces the finale moderately to give it the necessary weight (without sacrificing the music's irony and wit). Through it all the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic plays splendidly, and is excellently recorded. This Shostakovich series is shaping up as one of the best, make no mistake.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Something special would have to make me recommend a CD containing two of Shostakovich’s most popular symphonies, especially the ubiquitous Fifth. Before doing some comparisons with a few recordings of the past, I can state outright that these performances, as part of Petrenko’s continuing cycle, are more than competitive with their illustrious predecessors. Petrenko indeed has the measure of both works and he has the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic sounding a world-class ensemble. Furthermore, the recorded sound is full and vibrant, leaving little to be desired.

My introduction to the Shostakovich Fifth was sometime in 1959 or 1960 when I heard the Leonard Bernstein recording, fresh from the orchestra’s successful Moscow performances. I was blown away by that recording. What a shock, then, to hear it a number of years later as performed by the USSR State Symphony under the composer’s son. It sounded like a different work, especially the finale which I thought ridiculously slow and pompous. The orchestra sounded rough - especially next to the sleek New York Philharmonic - and the recording was frankly awful in the pressing I heard. Of course, this was before the so-called Shostakovich memoirs as related by Solomon Volkov came out. Nowadays Bernstein sounds ludicrously fast, if still brilliant. Living in the Washington, DC area I had the opportunity to get to appreciate Mstislav Rostropovich’s interpretations with the National Symphony Orchestra. Petrenko’s account of the finale reminds me of Rostropovich’s with the coda hammered out as slowly as possible and a forced “triumph” that’s hard to endure. It is extremely powerful and very convincing on its own terms. I compared this new version with three others, not having one of Rostropovich’s to hand: Bernstein’s (1959), Haitink’s, with the Concertgebouw Orchestra, Ashkenazy’s, with the Royal Philharmonic, and Maxim Shostakovich’s, with the London Symphony.

There is no consensus on tempos for the individual movements, except maybe the second movement, Scherzo. Nor should there necessarily be. This is what makes having different interpretations of the standard repertoire valuable. Tempos do not tell the whole story by far, but comparing Bernstein’s and Petrenko’s timings for the finale is very telling! Another characteristic that distinguishes this new account is the huge dynamic range, from the softest pianissimos to the loudest fortissimos I have ever heard in this symphony. Part of this may be due to the recording, but I think most of the credit must go to the conductor and orchestra. Next to Petrenko, Haitink seems rather urbane but still convincing and beautifully played. Ashkenazy, whose recording was my preferred CD version until now, presents more of a middle-of-the-road view, blessed by vivid sonics on his Decca recording. However, I now find the added horn and trumpet swoops, à la Mahler, in the second movement, irritating on repetition. Maxim Shostakovich’s account is rather odd, I think. After his unrefined, but idiomatic USSR Symphony version, he smoothed out all the edges when he recorded it with the London Symphony. It is no doubt wonderfully played, with especially gorgeous horns in the Scherzo, but leaves little impact. The recording is also more distant than the others and may contribute to this impression. I have not heard his more recent account with Prague Symphony, but others have found it an improvement over the London version. Right now, having heard the Petrenko quite a few times, I would place it at or near the top of the heap. It will be the one I will listen to now whenever I’m in the mood for this particular work, which is not all that often.

The Ninth Symphony, though, is one of my favorite Shostakovich symphonies. Here my basis for comparison, and my favored CD version, is Neeme Järvi’s with the Scottish National Orchestra on Chandos. Järvi brings out the humor in the score as well as I have ever heard it. Drawbacks are the less than perfect tuning of the trombones in the fourth movement and the reverberant recording which has a longer decay than is optimal for this symphony. Right from the beginning, I was impressed with the sound on the new Petrenko recording of this symphony. It is very clear, yet not at all clinical and with plenty of warmth where required. Also the orchestra performs here at least as well as it does in the Fifth. I should especially mention the outstanding clarinetist in the second movement, and equally outstanding trombones (with tuba) and bassoon in the fourth. No tuning problems there. Where I still have a preference for the Järvi is in the gruff humor he finds in the symphony. Petrenko’s is a more subtle, classical account without the humor being as obvious. His tempos are also more extreme. For example, his second movement Moderato takes 8:47 whereas Järvi gets through it in 6:31. It is marked moderato, after all. Still, Petrenko does not sound slow and is convincing. His third movement Presto, on the other hand, is faster than any version I have heard - truly presto. It is exhilarating and the orchestra manages to keep up miraculously well. Järvi’s is only 12 seconds longer, but seems noticeably slower. Petrenko is as light as a feather here and the music just breezes by. So again, Petrenko has given us a good alternative to other favorite versions.

To sum up: at the level of musicianship present in this new recording, we definitely need another Shostakovich Fifth and Ninth Symphony pairing, particularly at Naxos’ bargain price. I must also mention the excellent notes by Richard Whitehouse that not only discuss the works at hand, but also trace the composer’s symphonic development.

-- Leslie Wright, MusicWeb International

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.


These are two of the most brilliant and insightful Shostakovich performances to come along in quite a while, and that's saying a lot given the excellence of the recent competition. Certainly if you're looking for this coupling, which is becoming a popular one, this is the disc to have. Yakov Kreizberg's account of the Fifth Symphony is simply the most grimly intense since Sanderling's (Berlin Classics). The first movement is implacably urgent and as architecturally cogent in its monothematic single-mindedness as any conductor has ever projected it. An aptly gruff and gawky scherzo precedes a very slow, hushed, and emotionally draining account of the magnificent Largo. Have you ever noticed that this movement uses no brass instruments at all, but still manages the most powerful climax in the entire symphony?

Kreizberg, like Sanderling, is absolutely convinced that the finale does not represent a "happy" ending. After an impressively portentous opening and a brooding central interlude, he grinds out the coda with as much relentless menace as the music can take, and then some. By the time the movement heaves its lacerated carcass through the final bars, the cessation of sound comes as a positive relief. Throughout, the Russian National Orchestra plays with 100 percent conviction, and PentaTone's sonics, whether in stereo or SACD surround, are extremely natural and well-balanced.

What makes this disc even more special is the fact that the Ninth Symphony is every bit as good. The first movement's deadpan humor comes across with perfect clarity and point. The ghostly waltz that follows has the same quiet intensity as the Fifth Symphony's Largo, while the scherzo demonstrates just how well Kreizberg has the orchestra on its collective toes. His account of the finale just might be the best on disc: he goes completely nuts in the recapitulation, with a freedom of tempo that the composer surely would have applauded, and the coda breezes by at a truly startling clip. It's at once the most hilarious as well as the most satisfying account of this movement to have appeared yet. Do not miss this release.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Vasily Petrenko’s Shostakovich cycle marches on. This is volume seven. I presume there are four more to follow as and when Petrenko sets down the Fourth Symphony – to which I’m particularly looking forward – and numbers 7, 13 and 14.
 
This latest instalment pairs symphonies from the opposite chronological ends of the composer’s symphonic output. Number 2 was written to mark the tenth anniversary of the 1917 Revolution. Perhaps ominously – in terms of potential for artistic merit – it was commissioned by the Propaganda Division of the State Music Publishers’ Section. Interestingly, Richard Whitehouse relates in his notes that, initially, the work was not designated as a symphony; Shostakovich only took that step, it seems, a couple of years later. The work is in one continuous movement and in the last six minutes or so an SATB chorus is introduced. Their task is to deliver the four-stanza poem by one Alexander Bezimensky (1898-1973). Richard Whitehouse describes him as an “’official’ proletarian poet” but if this is a fair example of his work the term “party hack” might be more appropriate. Clearly, Shostakovich had no say in the choice of text and, apparently, he didn’t think much of it.
 
Richard Whitehouse observes that the symphony was composed during the most overtly modernist phase of his career. One might suggest that the term “brutalist” might also fairly apply to this score. Naxos helpfully split the piece into three separate tracks and these are reflected in the liner-notes. Shostakovich can be a forbidding composer at times but in this score we find him at his most experimental and intractable. For a start there are virtually no melodic themes in it – the trumpet tune that appears a couple of minutes into the score is more or less the only melody, as Whitehouse points out. Given the absence of themes it’s perhaps unsurprising that I struggle to discern any sort of development in the conventional sense. For example, I find it hard to see what relation the first five or six minutes of the score (track 1) bear to the music that follows, except as an unrelated introduction, perhaps. The music that opens the second section (track 2) is reminiscent of parts of the First Symphony. As this section unfolds the music becomes ever more strident. After a solo violin passage the texture becomes increasingly complex but it’s hard to see what all the activity signifies. Hereabouts the playing of the RLPO is tremendously vigorous and earlier, when the music was stirring to life from very subdued beginnings, there was no little finesse to the playing. So far as I can tell the performance is also very precise.
 
It would be kind to describe the words of the concluding choral section as banal; the poem is unmitigated Revolutionary tosh! Shostakovich “rewards” the poet with choral writing of no great distinction; these final minutes are brash and boldly coloured but, to be honest, one feels it’s a case of sound and fury signifying nothing. It’s richly ironic that when Shostakovich produced the sort of music that the authorities expected he wrote such stuff as this but when he composed music that was not in keeping with official expectations – in the Sixth or Eighth Symphonies, for instance – he produced his finest work. Vasily Petrenko and his orchestra – and choir – do their best for the score and give a colourful and committed account of it but, really, this is base metal. I find it perplexing, to say the least, to trace Shostakovich’s development as a symphonist from the precocious First Symphony through to the magnificent, complex Fourth. Indeed, the Second and Third Symphonies don’t really seem to offer much in the way of a bridge between those two tremendous scores.
 
I find the Fifteenth Symphony just as perplexing but in a very different way. Just what was Shostakovich saying this late score? What was going on behind that impassive face and those slightly owlish thick spectacles? A troubled spirit, it would seem, but what was troubling him?
 
One of the great enigmas of this score lies in the use made of quotations. Shostakovich made use of self-quotation in his music but to the best of my knowledge it was rare for him to quote other composers. Yet here, in what turned out to be his last symphony, we find him quoting from two composers – and from two radically different composers at that – as well as from himself.
 
The first movement opens deceptively with perky material on flute and then bassoon. The opening pages are reminiscent of the Ninth Symphony it seems to me. Then, at 1:57 the trumpet plays a familiar motif from Rossini’s William Tell overture. The Rossini motif has been foreshadowed in the moments leading up to its first appearance – the first of several in the movement – but what is the meaning? I confess I’m far from sure except to note that the motif is of a piece with Shostakovich’s characteristic sardonic streak and that, though the fragment of tune stands out every time we hear it, it is well integrated into the composer’s own material. The music becomes increasingly urgent, alarmed and, indeed, strident in tone and the reappearances of the Rossini quote seem to act as a brake on proceedings and to bring the music back to a less stressful, more insouciant level. Throughout this movement, whatever the mood of the music, the playing of the RLPO is crisp and characterful.
 
The second movement takes us to an altogether deeper level – though in saying that I don’t wish to imply that the first movement is superficial; it’s not. The Adagio opens with a brass chorale, which recurs at intervals as the movement unfurls. I think it’s hugely significant that this chorale is taken from the opening movement, The Palace Square, of the Eleventh Symphony, a work that I still think has yet to receive its full recognition within the composer’s output. It will be remembered that the Eleventh commemorates the failed Russian Revolution of 1905. The chorale is followed by extended glacial passages in which cello and viola solos are prominent. Here we are in the world of the string quartets. This is spare, searching music that has the character of a threnody. Petrenko and his players are excellent in maintaining the tension in these sparsely scored paragraphs, a virtue I < admired in their traversal of the first movement of the Sixth Symphony. Eventually (at 6:50) we hear an idea on the flutes but it’s not until this is taken up at some length by a solo trombone that it becomes clear that this is a funeral march. Eventually (at 11:01) the march erupts almost out of nothing into a huge climax. When this is spent the chorale returns, firstly on hushed strings and then on the brass. Now, I think, having experienced the funeral march we perhaps understand the significance of the quotation form the Eleventh. Is it that Shostakovich had unfinished business with the failed revolutionaries of 1905? Is he saying in this movement that those revolutionaries were betrayed by the Stalinist excesses in the years that followed the successful revolution of 1917?
 
The third movement, which follows attacca, is extremely brief. Richard Whitehouse rightly draws attention to the “barbed humour”. This is real nose-thumbing, sneering music and it’s adroitly done by Petrenko’s orchestra which offers some suitably pungent playing. Unless my ears deceive me the horns make a reference to the old DSCH motif one last time in a Shostakovich symphony.
 
The finale brings us the quotations from a second composer: Wagner. Right at the start the low brass intone the ‘fate’ motif from Die Walküre, followed by the soft timpani tattoo from Siegfried’s Funeral Music in Götterdämmerung. A few moments later (at 1:07) there’s surely another Wagner reference. The violins have an extended melody and as a kind of upbeat to it they play the same three notes with which Tristan begins. It’s possible that this is a coincidence but I don’t think so. The melody itself is described by Richard Whitehouse as “graceful”. I know what he means but I’m not sure that description is the full story: it sounds to me to be a spectral kind of grace; as so often with Shostakovich ambiguity is everywhere. This long, winding violin theme serves as the impetus for much of the content of the succeeding paragraphs. After another appearance of the ‘fate’ motif (5:28) what is at first a ghostly passacaglia begins. The music grows in temperature and intensity until a substantial climax is reached (10:08). This is another – and the last – of Shostakovich’s trademark towering symphonic climaxes and in it I hear definite echoes – grim ones – of the Leningrad Symphony. After the climax has subsided the music becomes wan and lean again; here the playing of the RLPO is once again most effective. The ending is enigmatic; the soft, tintinnabulating percussion over soft string chords recalls the conclusion of the Fourth Symphony, albeit the passage is longer this time. With a soft bell chime Shostakovich writes finis to his canon of symphonies.
 
The Fifteenth is a difficult symphony, not because its language is difficult in the way that the language of the Second is gratuitously difficult. It’s difficult because it’s so hard to grasp what are the composer’s intentions. I bought Maxim Shostakovich’s 1972 première recording when it came out – I still have the LP – and yet, even after all these years I’m not confident that I fully comprehend this elusive piece. I am sure, however, that it’s a fine and expressive composition and it’s the work of a mature and highly experienced symphonist whereas the Second is the work of a young, iconoclastic innovator. I don’t believe that earlier piece is genuinely symphonic in the sense of including any conventional development of ideas.
 
I doubt I shall listen often to the Second, though I’m sure that Vasily Petrenko and his choir and orchestra serve it well. I’m certain, however, that I shall return to this performance of the Fifteenth which strikes me as being excellent both in terms of the interpretation and the execution. The Naxos sound is very good: it reports the massive climaxes very well but conveys equally successfully the many quiet passages, both at the start of the Second and during the Fifteenth. As usual, Richard Whitehouse’s notes are very good at outlining the background to the works and at describing each score. However, it’s slightly disappointing that he doesn’t attempt any real discussion of the quotations in the Fifteenth beyond saying that they’re present.
 
This is another fine instalment in this important Shostakovich symphony cycle and I hope we won’t have to wait too long for the next release.
 
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

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One of the nice things about Vasily Petrenko’s ongoing Shostakovich cycle, now well past its halfway point, is that it is making me reevaluate symphonies I did not think so highly of previously. The conductor’s recent recording of the Third Symphony (with the First, on Naxos 8.572396) inspired me to comment, “Petrenko’s reading is so full of good humor—and perhaps a little sarcasm—that I found myself enjoying this symphony more than usual.” Well, the Second is, for the most part, just as good, aided and abetted by some really fun playing from the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, and exciting sound from Naxos’s engineering team. The opening pages, an extended bass drum roll, quietly played, and soon overlaid by what Shostakovich called “ultrapolyphony” (27 simultaneously played voices) create a strikingly Ivesian effect. Now, Ives was ahead of his time, and so was the young Shostakovich, who anticipated several of the 20th century’s later musical developments in this symphony. Petrenko pulls it off with impudence, and the factory whistle that introduces the chorus has never been more visceral in its impact. (Shostakovich advised that, in the absence of a factory whistle, a chord for horns and trombones could be used instead. I am not sure what is being used here—it sounds like a jet engine, actually—but it is most impressive.) The chorus is almost as idiomatic as it was in the Third Symphony, and if the singers sound a little hoarse, I can forgive them. (Shostakovich shows neither the orchestra nor the chorus much mercy in this symphony.) Perhaps that’s what singing about Lenin and communes does to one.
Few people doubt the importance of the 15th Symphony. In fact, in bolstering its stature, and its place as the terminal symphony in Shostakovich’s canon, conductors have a tendency to make it seem more funereal than perhaps is necessary. Petrenko’s reading takes 48: 35, which really is quite slow, but this is one of those times when the subjective tempos seem faster. I think this is because Petrenko plays up the chamber music-like textures that dominate this work; slow is not the same as heavy, after all. Also, he is almost maliciously funny in the first movement, and in the third. Yes, the humor is of the black variety, but Petrenko applies it delicately, and as a consequence, there is more subtlety and nuance here than one expects even in this symphony. There are many examples of particularly fine solo playing from several members of the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic, too. Surely, this is one of the best versions of the 15th Symphony currently available—right up there with one of Kondrashin’s recordings, or (for something much richer) Ormandy’s. Petrenko’s Second easily eclipses Morton Gould’s and Bernard Haitink’s (to name two of the most famous alternatives). For the Shostakovich fan, there’s every reason to get this newest release from Petrenko, and no good reason not to. Have at it.
FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

Gripping performances, reported in superb sound.

Mark Wigglesworth’s Shostakovich symphony cycle has been quite a long time in the making – over ten years, in fact – but it’s now nearly complete. I believe the Fifteenth is still to be recorded but this issue should be the penultimate release. We’ve reviewed most of the previous releases – the Fourteenth, one of the earlier releases (BIS-CD-1173) does not seem to have come our way – and each has attracted generally favourable comments. A full set of links to earlier reviews appears at the foot of this review. So far I’ve only heard a couple of the issues in this series, Symphonies Four and Eight.

Over the years when my colleague Dan Morgan and I have listened to the same recordings – including those which he’s reviewed but I haven’t – I found that generally our views have coincided quite a lot. Recently, however, unbeknownst to each other, we wrote simultaneous reviews of Vasily Petrenko’s disc of Shostakovich’s Second and Fifteenth symphonies and found ourselves taking quite different stances. I know that Dan has written admiringly of this latest Wigglesworth issue in its download format so I was intrigued to receive the CD version, though I’ve taken care not to read Dan’s review while preparing my own appraisal. The divergence of opinion over the aforementioned Petrenko release led to some interesting comments on the Message Board so it seemed to me that the arrival of this Wigglesworth CD would be a good opportunity to revisit Petrenko’s accounts of all three symphonies.

One problem for me in approaching this disc is that I’ve never thought very highly of either the Second or Third symphonies and that was reflected in my comments on Petrenko’s recording of the Third and, subsequently, of the Second. Would Mark Wigglesworth make me change my mind? To some extent he has made me more favourably disposed towards the Third though I’m afraid the Second still remains a closed book to me.

Irrespective of any issues about interpretation, I think there are two reasons why Wigglesworth is to be preferred over Petrenko in the Second and Third symphonies. One is that, as we shall see, though the sound on the Naxos discs is pretty good the BIS sound is even better. The other is that Wigglesworth has a clear advantage in using the professional voices of the Netherlands Radio Choir. Petrenko’s Liverpool choir, an amateur body, makes a good showing but the Dutch choir has more punch and their sound is better focused – I’m sure it helps that the choir is smaller than the Liverpool chorus. Naxos does enjoy one advantage, however, which may seem small but which, actually, is quite important: the sung texts are printed in transliterated form whereas BIS offer only the Cyrillic text and an English translation and as most collectors won’t read or speak Russian it’s easier to follow in the Naxos booklet what’s being sung.

The BIS booklet notes are by Mark Wigglesworth himself and he writes insightfully about the music. I was struck by a comment he makes about the First Symphony and the influence of Petrushka and, indirectly, perhaps of Pierrot Lunaire that “the disconcerting idea of human beings as puppets, with their actions manipulated by unseen string-pullers from on high, was one that stayed with the composer right the way through to his final symphony, written almost fifty years later.” In the second movement Wigglesworth’s tempo for the fast music seems very fleet but, in fact, when I compared Petrenko there’s not much to choose between them. In the third movement, however, there is quite a difference: Wigglesworth’s basic pulse is fleeter than Petrenko’s – he takes about a minute less to play the movement – but I don’t think he loses anything thereby in terms of intensity or power; quite the reverse, in fact. This may well be an instance where less means more. In passing, it’s interesting to note that in his much-admired complete cycle Rudolf Barshai is quicker than either of these younger conductors, taking just 7:43. Wigglesworth is excellent in the transition from the third movement to the fourth, bringing out the dark power in the music to perfection. The playing of the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra is razor sharp throughout the whole performance and the recording – to which I listened in conventional CD format – is stunning in its immediacy; as an example, listen to the pivotal timpani solo in the finale (track 4, 6:00). I still think the Petrenko performance is a very good one but I think Wigglesworth is even better, digging deeper.

The dynamic range of the BIS recording is such that if one plays the Second Symphony at a level that will be comfortable in the strident passages then the opening is all but inaudible, even when listening through headphones. In fact it’s only after some two minutes have passed that one can really discern what’s happening. That’s not intended as a criticism of BIS, by the way; that’s surely what Shostakovich intended and all credit to Wigglesworth and his orchestra for playing so softly. The RLPO’s playing for Petrenko, while extremely quiet, is not so hushed. BIS splits the symphony into four tracks – on Naxos there are three. Wigglesworth, having started so softly, maintains the mysterious atmosphere very successfully throughout the first section. I start to “lose the plot” with this work when we get to the Meno mosso section (track 7); much of this passage sounds simply chaotic and I can’t shake off the feeling that it’s all sound and fury signifying – well, what does it signify? Wigglesworth scores over Petrenko in having what sounds like a proper siren at the opening of the choral section – and during it; Petrenko uses the option to have the sound played by unison brass instruments. As mentioned above, the Dutch choir has more punch and body to their singing than their Liverpool rivals, valiant though the Merseysiders are.

In his note on the Third Symphony Mark Wigglesworth makes some interesting and important points. He observes that, though the symphony also concludes with a choral setting of a suitably revolutionary text it was not, unlike the Second, an official commission. In other words, the decision to write this work was Shostakovich’s and he himself selected the text that he set at the end. What does this tell us? Well Wigglesworth notes that by now Stalin was in power and, indeed, one of the composer’s own friends – the dedicatee of the First Symphony – had been liquidated. So perhaps Shostakovich was showing himself to be “on message”. However, the poem that he set in the Third Symphony is one that celebrates the revolutionary struggle of the workers rather than revolution and a leader such as Lenin – let alone Stalin – so perhaps, suggests Wigglesworth, Shostakovich is lauding the concept of proletarian revolution rather than the way it had been implemented – and perverted.

Wigglesworth’s recording is divided into seven tracks. He does the opening of this continuous, one-movement work (track 9) very well and after the surface innocence of that section there’s tremendous drive and purpose to the music that follows (tracks 10-11). Here the playing of the Dutch orchestra is very vital. The orchestra also excels in the glacial string episode (track 12) that foreshadows, I think, parts of the Fourth Symphony. Later on the climactic unisons over drum rolls towards the end of track 13 sound very impressive – the BIS recording reports the bass drum thwacks marvellously, so too the baleful tuba solo at the start of track 14. Once again Wigglesworth’s choir makes a splendid showing; I don’t care at all for the music they sing but they deliver the surface excitement with great fervour. This is the most convincing performance of the Third that I’ve heard; even so, I remain sceptical, though slightly less so than before. I note with some interest that Wigglesworth’s overall timing for the symphony is significantly shorter than Petrenko’s; he takes 27:51 against 31:10.

These are gripping performances, reported in superb sound and if you want Shostakovich’s first three symphonies in a package you shouldn’t hesitate. Perhaps it helps that Mark Wigglesworth has recorded these early works almost at the end of his slowly assembled cycle; is he able thereby to refract these scores through his experience of the later works? That must be the case. One question remains: would I have rated Vasily Petrenko’s performances differently had I heard Wigglesworth first? I think the honest answer to that is no. I still think Petrenko’s versions are very good. However, Wigglesworth’s interpretations are presented in superb sound and on balance I think he has the edge interpretatively and in terms of the quality of the singing and playing that he inspires.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

SHOSTAKOVICH: String Quartets Nos. 10, 11 and 13

SHOSTAKOVICH: String Quartets Nos. 14 and 15

Following the release of the Manderling Quartett's highly acclaimed first and second volume of the Complete String Quartets of Dmitri Shostakovich, they have now recorded a third volume containing another three. There is no doubt that Ludwig van Beethoven's legacy was fundamental in the creation of Dmitri Shostakovich's String Quartets which are outstanding both in their craftsmanship and spirituality. The Russian master approached the classicist composer via different paths, experimenting with a suite-like variety of forms and extending his expressional spectrum to great heights. The String Quartets No. 5 (1952), No. 7 (1960) and No. 9 (1964) are also convincing in their palette of forms and expressions on a chamber music level, as well as their technical demands and cyclical links between movements. The confessional character of the works is determined by three secret acknowledgements: to his beloved pupil Galina Ustvolskaya, his late wife Nina and his third wife to whom Shostakovich dedicated his ninth string quartet. The Complete Edition of all fifteen String Quartets by Shostakovich: an imposing corpus of works in which the highly decorated Soviet "model composer" maintained his inner non-conformism.