March 2013 - Queensland Symphony Orchestra

chromaticism continue to accumulate;
eventually a whole extra brass section (held
in reserve until this point) is brought in, with
a startling change of key. Finally the march
rhythm comes to a halt; the symphony’s
opening music returns, this time in the minor
key, in what Richard Taruskin has described as
a ‘horripilating climax’. Perhaps the real climax
of the movement, however, is not a sound
but a silence: after several pages of fortissimo
struggle there are two one-beat rests for the
whole orchestra. After these, the struggle
abruptly ceases, dying down into the more
lyrical music heard before. A distant reminder
of the march concludes the movement.
At the time, the march episode was held to
represent specifically the siege of Leningrad.
Some years after the event, the conductor
Yevgeny Mravinsky saw the march as ‘a
universalised image of stupidity and crass
tastelessness’, while another Soviet critic saw
it as a ‘generalised image of evil’, albeit with
‘German colouring’.
The remaining movements do not feature
such concrete imagery, and so have been
unfortunately neglected, despite containing
some of Shostakovich’s most deeply felt
music. Shostakovich described the second
movement as an ‘intermezzo’; the third is
dominated by a chorale from the winds, and a
recitative-like section from the violins.
The finale follows without a break, and returns
to the grander scale of the first movement.
A Beethovenian climb out of its suspenseful
beginning passes through a variety of
textures, culminating in the reappearance
of the music which opened the symphony.
As in Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony, the
final climax is spectacular; it is also far from
unequivocal, with some searing chromaticism
on the high trumpets clouding the harmony
to unsettling and ambivalent effect.
Within a few years of its premiere,
the furore surrounding the Leningrad
Symphony had begun to die down, and a
backlash commenced. Performances were
comparatively infrequent until the appearance
in 1979 of Testimony, Shostakovich’s
purported memoirs. We read there: ‘The
“invasion theme” has nothing to do with the
attack. I was thinking of other enemies of
humanity… I feel eternal pain for those who
were killed by Hitler, but I feel no less pain
for those who were killed on Stalin’s orders.’
Thus the symphony began to be rehabilitated.
The same notes which had been dismissed as
tired platitudes when seen as a tool of heroic
anti-Hitler propaganda found a new (if no less
musically dubious) lease of life as a tool of
heroic anti-Stalin propaganda.
Right from its appearance, controversy
has raged over the literal authenticity of
Testimony, although even those who doubt
the literal authenticity of these ‘memoirs’
acknowledge that there seems to be much
truth behind them. The issue does, however,
bring to the foreground one disturbing feature
of the reception of Shostakovich’s music: we
seem to prefer to be told ‘what the music
means’. As with most music of any enduring
interest, there is no simple answer. And
as the history of the Leningrad Symphony
demonstrates, once an ‘answer’ has been
found the work loses much of its interest:
it is the continuing reassessment of the
layers of meaning that has given this work
a comparatively secure place on the
concert platform.
Abridged from a note by Carl Rosman © 2000
Backstage Pass
PIERS LANE, PIANO
You performed with the QSO in July last
year. After that you were travelling to
Alaska for the first time. What was the
highlight of that trip?
I was only in Anchorage on that trip, but am
going again this June and shall also visit magical
Sitka. The concerts were great fun though – a
standing ovation for the newly commissioned
piece we presented. We had been concerned
about how something so contemporary and
hard-hitting would go down, but somebody
said during the interval that it was the most
exciting thing to happen in Alaska for fifteen
years – that sort of reaction thrills a performer!
This year you will be performing Mozart’s
Piano Concerto No.21 with the QSO.
Mozart composed 27 concertos for piano
and orchestra. How many of these have you
performed and which is your favourite?
I’ve only performed ten or eleven of them,
though some of those many times. But how
could I choose a favourite? They’re all sublime!
The first concerto I ever learned was the A
major K488 and that, of course, has a special
place in my heart.
Can you describe the significance of the
silver badge you wear when you perform?
Some years ago, when I was playing at the Blair
Atholl Festival in Scotland, all of the artists were
asked to wear Malcolm Appleby’s jewellery.
He’s a famous silversmith and goldsmith
– does wondrous things! The soprano had
on a necklace worth thousands, but I wore
Pianohead (it has a grand piano for a head),
one of thirty heads Malcolm had done as pins
and brooches. I kept it and it has lived on my
tails ever since – it’s become a sort of talisman
I guess.
Last time you were here we noticed some
very bright socks! When did this signature
fashion style form?
I was touring with Brett Dean and other friends
for Musica Viva back in 2004 and needed to
buy a black shirt for a lunchtime concert. Miki
Tsunoda the violinist and I went into a shop in
Sydney and there was a dazzling pair of socks
in the window. She encouraged me to buy them
(it’s all her fault!) and I subsequently wore them
under my tails when I gave the Opening Recital
of the Sydney Piano Competition that year.
They went down a treat and loud socks have
been a feature of my concert attire ever since,
for better or for worse! The New York Sun once
gave me a review which said ‘Mr Lane came on
stage in his conservative British tails, but when
he sat down, he revealed a startling pair of
socks. His playing was more like his socks! ‘
After that, I couldn’t go back to black, could I?
18 2013 | QSO MARCH PROGRAM 2013 | QSO MARCH PROGRAM 19