In Anticipation: Shostakovich, Valery Gergiev, and the Kirov

by NATHAN PLATTE
Graduate Student Instructor Dept. of Musicology, U of Michigan School of Music

I first saw the Kirov Orchestra perform at Hill Auditorium in 1998. A Tchaikovsky enthusiast, I was attracted by the program (the complete ballet score of The Nutcracker); I did not recognize the orchestra. Considering that The Nutcracker is piped annually from TVs and motorized Santa Clauses from October through December, it is a sad fact that the music is frequently performed and heard indifferently. This particular evening, however, was well outside the norm. Orchestral textures sparkled freshly, the famous melodies spun with intoxicating swiftness, and the pas de deux became the most breathtakingly beautiful five minutes of music ever. Above all, Valery Gergiev’s conducting and the orchestra’s rich sound was unlike anything I had seen or heard before.

Since then, I have gone to every Kirov performance in the Ann Arbor area (not to mention a road trip to D.C.) and have enjoyed more than several nights of incredible music, consistently performed to the hilt. Time and time again, it is the orchestra’s unique sound that impresses me. Writers often describe world-class orchestras’ sonorities as “transparent,” “lucid,” and “meticulously balanced,” like a “well-oiled machine.” None of these words effectively capture the Kirov’s appeal; I prefer to liken their sound to an irresistible and visceral natural phenomenon. Niagara Falls and thunder storms come first to mind as I recall the orchestra’s sound gushing and gusting forth, billowing out into the hall…

Valery Gergiev and the Kirov Orchestra return to Ann Arbor this weekend for the second half of their Shostakovich Centennial Festival. This particular visit includes six Shostakovich symphonies performed across three concerts. Each night features two symphonies that together reflect the musical breadth and depth of the composer. Performed on Friday and Saturday respectively, Symphonies 11 and 12 are commemorative works—written in memoriam of the birth pangs of communism in Russia. Symphony 11 depicts the 1905 Bloody Sunday Massacre in which Imperial guards in St. Petersburg opened fire upon a peaceful workers’ protest. Symphony 12 is a musical monument to the 1917 October Revolution. As their subject matter suggests, these works are intensely programmatic (one might even liken them to film scores). Symphonies 6 (Friday) and 8 (Sunday) are not dedicated to specific events, but reflect the social and cultural context out of which they were born during World War II. Symphony 8 is especially vivid and disturbing, at one point reenacting a military invasion through orchestral artillery explosions and screams. In Symphonies 13 and 14, Shostakovich turns to poetry of a potent and tragic nature. Symphony 13, which includes the text of Yevgeny Yevtushenko’s “Babi Yar,” memorializes the German massacre of Jews in Kiev while simultaneously criticizing the anti-Semitism rife in Soviet society. Symphony 14, perhaps the oddest Shostakovich symphony of all, sets a series of “death” poems by various authors to music that is alternately morose, blackly ironic, and strange. Taken together, the three concerts present a rich panorama of Shostakovich’s works, offering fascinating music played by St. Petersburg’s premiere conductor and orchestra: Valery Gergiev and the Kirov.