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Shostakovich, Dmitry (Dmitriyevich)locked

  • Laurel Fay
  •  and David Fanning

(b St Petersburg, 12/Sept 25, 1906; d Moscow, Aug 9, 1975). Russian composer. He is generally regarded as the greatest symphonist of the mid-20th century, and many of his string quartets, concertos, instrumental and vocal works are also firmly established in the repertory. His numerous film scores, extensive incidental theatre music and three ballets are of more variable quality. In 1936, political intervention cut short his potentially outstanding operatic output; such interference continued to blight his career, belying the outward signs of official favour and recognition that increasingly came his way. Amid the conflicting pressures of official requirements, the mass suffering of his fellow countrymen, and his personal ideals of humanitarianism and public service, he succeeded in forging a musical language of colossal emotional power. The music of his middle period is often epic in scale and content; it has been understood by many Russians, and in more recent years also by Westerners, as chronicling his society and times, conveying moods and, as some would argue, experiences and even political messages in notes, at a time when to do so in words was proscribed. Since the appearance in 1979 of his purported memoirs, which expressed profound disaffection from the Soviet regime, his works have been intensely scrutinized for evidence of such explicit communication. However, his intentions in this respect continue to provoke disagreement, not least because of the problematic status of the sources involved. He published articles and made speeches under varying degrees of duress; for much of his life his correspondence was liable to be read by censors; he destroyed almost all letters sent to him; he kept no diary; and his reported confidences to friends and family are of varying reliability. Meanwhile, the musical dimensions of his works remain comparatively little examined. He played a decisive role in the musical life of the former Soviet Union, as teacher, writer and administrator. He was also an active pianist, frequently performing his own works until disability prevented him. His last concert appearance was in 1966.

1. Up to 1926.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

Shostakovich’s family on his father’s side had Polish roots. These are reflected in the orthography of the name common until 1904, which was Shestakovich. His great-grandfather on his father’s side, Pyotr Mikhaylovich Shostakovich (1808–71), took part in the Polish and Lithuanian uprisings of 1831, later settling in Yekaterinburg where Shostakovich’s grandfather Boleslav Petrovich (1845–1919) was born. Implicated in the assassination attempt on Tsar Aleksandr II in 1866, Boleslav was arrested, tried and sentenced to exile in Tomsk, some 1300 km east of the Urals. Following a further denunciation for revolutionary activities he was sent north to Narïm, deeper in the Siberian lowlands, where his second son, Dmitry Boleslavovich (1875–1922), Shostakovich’s father, was born.

Shostakovich’s grandfather on his mother’s side, Vasily Kokoulin (1850–1911), rose from a humble background to become manager of the gold mines at Bodaybo in Eastern Siberia, north-east of the Baykal Sea. His daughter Sof′ya Vasil′yevna (1878–1955), Shostakovich’s mother, studied languages and piano in Irkutsk, and went on to be a pupil of Aleksandra Rozanova at the St Petersburg Conservatory. Here she met Dmitry Boleslavovich Shostakovich, who was studying histology at St Petersburg University and was a respectable amateur singer. After his graduation in 1899, Dmitry Boleslavovich joined the Palace of Weights and Measures. He was promoted to the rank of senior inspector in 1902 and married Sof′ya Kokoulin the following year. Dmitry Dmitriyevich was the second of their three children; his elder sister Mariya (1903–73) became a pianist, his younger sister Zoya (1908–90) a veterinary scientist. In these immediate pre-Revolutionary years, the young Dmitry Dmitriyevich grew up in comparatively privileged surroundings. The family had the use of two cars and a dacha, owned a Diderichs piano, and employed a German tutor, servants and a nanny. Shostakovich reportedly inherited from his father a liking for clownish behaviour and for early rising (habitually around 6 a.m.).

A quiet boy with a liking for nature and walking, he attended the private Mariya Shidlovskaya Commercial School from 1915 to 1919, along with children of the intelligentsia, such as those of Trotsky, Kustodiyev, Kamenev and Kerensky. Close to the school was the Finland Station, where Shostakovich and some school friends reportedly witnessed Lenin’s historic arrival and speech on 3/16 April 1917. In 1919, he moved on to Gymnasium no.13, which he attended at the same time as pursuing his musical studies at the Conservatory.

His parents and his elder sister all made music in the house. Shostakovich enjoyed the gypsy songs his father sang and by the age of nine was well acquainted with Tchaikovsky’s Yevgeny Onegin, even before seeing it staged. In 1915, he saw his first opera, Rimsky-Korsakov’s Tale of Tsar Saltan. He had resisted the idea of musical instruction until that year, and his mother had had to persuade him to take piano lessons. As soon as these began, however, his musical gifts blossomed. He had absolute pitch and within a month was playing simple pieces by Mozart and Haydn. At about the same time he started to compose, and he liked to improvise illustrative pieces with verbal running commentaries. Later in 1915 he enrolled at Ignaty Glyasser’s private music school, and initially studied with the director’s wife, Olga Federovna. Within a year, Shostakovich was studying with Glyasser himself and progressed to Bach’s preludes and fugues; by the end of 1917 he could reportedly play the entire Das wohltemperirte Clavier. He also composed short piano pieces, most of which were later destroyed. Those that survive, in various gift albums, include The Soldier, a Hymn to Freedom, and a Funeral March for Victims of the Revolution strongly reminiscent of the first movement of Beethoven’s Sonata op.26. Evidence of the Shostakovich family’s political interests at this time is scant, but it seems that they greeted the Revolutions of 1917 with enthusiasm, as did the majority of the intelligentsia.

Glyasser showed little or no interest in his pupil’s compositions, and sometime in 1917 or 1918 Shostakovich became dissatisfied and eager to leave the school. His mother took him to her former teacher Rozanova for preparatory lessons before entrance to the Petrograd Conservatory; in the summer of 1919 she sent him to Glazunov to have his compositions assessed. He entered the Conservatory in autumn 1919, studying harmony, orchestration, fugue, form and composition with Rimsky-Korsakov’s son-in-law and pupil Maximilian Steinberg, and counterpoint and fugue with Nikolay Sokolov; he also attended the history classes of Aleksandr Ossovsky and towards the end of his studies took violin and conducting lessons. Some of his orchestration exercises from this time survive, notably his scoring of Beethoven sonata movements and of Rimsky-Korsakov’s song I waited for thee in the grotto op.40 no.4. His prodigious gifts of aural perception, sight-reading and memory quickly became famous, and he absorbed the orchestral repertory by playing piano duets with his student friends. His op.1, a Scherzo for orchestra, was composed in late 1919 during his first year at the Conservatory.

In his second year, Shostakovich moved to Leonid Nikolayev’s piano class, where his fellow-students included Mariya Yudina and Vladimir Sofronitsky. Yudina spurred him on to tackle such repertory as Beethoven’s ‘Hammerklavier’ Sonata, which he performed in spring 1922, and encouraged him in his exploration of the latest works of Hindemith, Bartók and Krenek which were filtering into Russia after the period of post-Revolutionary cultural isolation.

The tradition established by Rimsky-Korsakov of rule-bound training in basic theoretical disciplines still prevailed. The arrival on the staff of composer-teacher Vladimir Shcherbachyov (in 1923) and of scholar-composer Boris Asaf′yev (in 1925) eventually provoked reforms, but these were instituted only near the end of Shostakovich’s formal studies. He was ambivalent about Steinberg’s teaching. He expressed respectful appreciation, but in later life did not hesitate to criticize his teacher for academic short-sightedness; Steinberg in turn was vexed by his pupil’s interest in Western-inspired grotesquerie. Unlike Prokofiev a decade earlier, Shostakovich did not rebel as a student, however, and his determination to combine a degree of experimental freedom with strong compositional discipline laid the foundations for a multi-faceted musical idiom, capable of rapid modulations of tone and style. At the same time as going through the prescribed academic hoops, most obviously in the Theme and Variations op.3, he participated in the ‘Circle of Young Composers’, consisting of students meeting in the conservatory cafeteria (1921–4), and in the Anna Fogt Circle (1921–5), where he made contact with Asaf′yev, Shcherbachyov and conductor Nikolay Malko, all of them keen followers of contemporary musical trends in the West. It was in the Fogt Circle that Shostakovich introduced his Two Fables of Krïlov op.4 and his Three Fantastic Dances op.5.

During the years following the Revolution and leading up to the end of Civil War and the introduction of Lenin’s New Economic Policy in 1921, most artistic institutions were severely under-funded. The Conservatory was no exception and classes often took place in icy conditions. Shostakovich’s once comfortably-off family also shared in the deprivations of the ‘War-Communism’ era. On several occasions Glazunov appealed to higher authorities, including the Commissar for Enlightenment Anatoly Lunacharsky and the writer Maksim Gorky, for ration cards and funds for his outstanding student; he eventually arranged for a stipend from the Borodin fund. When Shostakovich’s father died of pneumonia in February 1922, his mother had to take up typing, and his sister gave private piano lessons. For the time being the 15-year-old Dmitry continued his studies, composing his Suite for two pianos, op.6, in the following month and dedicating it to the memory of his father.

Ever a sickly child, he developed tuberculosis of the lymph glands and in spring 1923 had to have an operation. He completed his final piano examinations at the conservatory in June with his neck still bandaged, including in his programmes Beethoven’s ‘Waldstein’ Sonata, Liszt’s ‘Venezia e Napoli’ from the Années de pèlerinage, and the Schumann Concerto. He then continued work on his second orchestral Scherzo op.7 and began to sketch ideas for what would eventually become his First Symphony. He was then sent for a summer sanatorium cure at Gaspra in the Crimea. This trip stimulated a love for travel that lasted most of his life (he generally preferred to travel south in the spring but to spend the summer months in the north of Russia). In Gaspra he met Tat′yana Glivenko, daughter of a well-known Moscow philologist, and some would say the greatest love of his life. He composed his Piano Trio op.8 with his feelings for her very much in mind; he wrote to his mother in praise of free love, only defending the institution of marriage as a safeguard for family life. Over the next years he backed away from full commitment to Glivenko, but he continued to see her, even trying to persuade her to be with him after her marriage in 1929; he only ceased to court her after the birth of her first child in 1932. His letters to her, now in private hands, are a rare source of information concerning his political views. They reveal a balanced attitude to the issues of the day, generally supportive of the communist regime but sceptical of some of its practical manifestations.

In March 1924 Shostakovich was excluded from the post graduate piano course, officially because of ‘insufficient maturity’; he came close to transferring to the Moscow Conservatory, where he already had a number of friendly contacts, to study piano with Konstantin Igumnov and composition with Nikolay Myaskovsky. After he had enjoyed a second rest-cure in the Crimea he was reinstated with Nikolayev in Leningrad. He set to work in earnest on his symphony, now a prescribed graduation task. In October 1924, he began to earn pin-money playing the piano for silent films, having previously passed a qualifying exam. This gave him an outlet for his natural sense of fun and talent for lampooning, but the work itself was irksome and energy-sapping, not least when he had to take one of the cinema-owners to court for non-payment of wages.

In March 1925, when he was having difficulties with the last movement of the symphony, Shostakovich presented a selection of his music in Moscow. On this occasion the young Vissarion Shebalin made the bigger impression, but the visit at least helped Shostakovich to develop and inaugurate some important friendships – with Shebalin, with the theorist Boleslav Yavorsky, and with the music-loving marshal Mikhail Tukhachevsky. The latter helped the Shostakovich family financially and put his protégé in touch with the composer and theorist Nikolay Zhilyayev, who became another important mentor. Tukhachevsky would be shot at Stalin’s behest in the Red Army purge of 1937; Zhilyayev, implicated by his friendship with the marshal, was arrested in November that year and executed the following January.

By April 1925, the symphony was complete in piano score, and the orchestration was finished by 2 July. Shostakovich dedicated the score to his Moscow student friend Mikhail Kvadri, who in 1929 would become the first of his close acquaintances to perish in the Stalinist repressions. The 12 May performance, coincidentally the first radio broadcast from the Great Hall of the Leningrad Philharmonic, was a major public and professional success. Critical reaction, however, was measured rather than ecstatic.

The success of Shostakovich’s First Symphony catapulted him to international fame. The piece was taken up in rapid succession by Walter, Toscanini, Klemperer, Stokowski and others in the West, and it drew congratulatory letters from Milhaud and Berg. Its cachet lay partly in the fact that it was the first symphony composed in the Soviet Union to win a place in the general repertory and partly in that it had been composed by a teenager.

However, Shostakovich had tried and tested many of its ingredients in preceding compositions, beginning with his op.1, a Scherzo in F♯ minor composed in 1919 at the age of 13 and dedicated to Steinberg. Tchaikovskian in its balletic character, in construction the Scherzo already shows some ingenuity in its contrapuntal combination of themes, and it has a sophisticated retransition in which the climax of the central lyrical trio section and the return of the scherzo are telescoped together. Like the young Stravinsky, Shostakovich composed an exceptional number of scherzos in his apprentice years and used the form to develop facility in musical characterization and structure in tandem. The op.7 Scherzo shows an awareness of Stravinsky’s rhythmic innovations and features the first of Shostakovich’s irresistibly daft polkas. In addition to these self-sufficient scherzos, three of the symphony’s four movements and the last of the Three Fantastic Dances for piano op.5 are predominantly scherzo-like in character; the second of the two String Octet pieces op.11, completed immediately after the symphony, is yet another scherzo. By contrast, the Romantic tone of the symphony’s slow movement is foreshadowed in the Piano Trio op.8, composed at the time of his love affair with Glivenko, while the fateful gloom which descends on this movement and on much of the finale was foreshadowed in the Suite for two pianos op.6, in which the example of Rachmaninoff is evident.

The first of Shostakovich’s surviving songs are the Two Fables of Krïlov op.4, the second of which ends with a characteristic ‘false triumph’. Concluding the tale of the ass who offends the nightingale by suggesting she should go to the cockerel for singing lessons, the singer remarks, ‘Deliver us, O God, from judgments of this kind’. The accompaniment swaggers off in a philistine victory-march, powerfully echoed 30 years later at the end of the Tenth Symphony.

The First Symphony itself covers an extraordinary range of character, from its introduction in which the forlorn search for a stable key and tempo is reminiscent of Petrushka, through to an almost epic sense of resistance to fate at the end of the Finale. It maintains a fascinating tension between the progressivist interests Shostakovich had developed – in the music of Stravinsky, Hindemith and Krenek – and the restrictive conservatory disciplines to which he submitted more or less willingly. For these reasons, the music’s progress is constantly surprising, yet in its very volatility consistent and true to itself. It manages to steer a course around the two most influential attitudes to large-scale form current in 1920s Russia: form as architecture, as preached and practised by Rimsky-Korsakov’s pupils Steinberg and Myaskovsky, and form as process, as preached by Asaf′yev and both preached and practised by Shcherbachyov and his pupils.

2. 1926–36.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

(i) Life.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

In the ten years between the triumph of his First Symphony and his first fall from official grace Shostakovich pursued several different avenues. His initial instinct was to sow some musical wild oats by composing in the latest avant-garde styles imported from the West. But the need to earn money, not least to support his mother, increasingly dictated the nature of the work he took on. This was especially the case from 1928 when he undertook a succession of commissions for incidental music, film scores and ballets, all of which had to conform to external requirements. Otherwise his income consisted of a mixture of honoraria from sporadic piano performances and publications (notably of the First Symphony and First Piano Sonata), some teaching (two days a week score reading at the Central Musical Technical College from October 1926 to at least May 1927), similar work at the Choreographic Technical College from January to April 1929, and stipends in respect of his postgraduate status at the Conservatory which continued until 1 January 1930, although his studies had effectively ended by 1926. By the end of 1932 dissatisfaction with the procrustean demands of theatre and film studio provoked a return to instrumental music, but now in a more restrained and thoughtful idiom.

One of his first priorities in this period was to test out his proficiency as a pianist. In January 1927 he took part in the first Chopin Piano Competition in Warsaw, where he was one of eight finalists but not a prizewinner (his Moscow friend Lev Oborin won first prize, Grigory Ginzburg came fourth). He put this disappointment down to pain from appendicitis (he eventually had his appendix removed in April) and to the national pride of an all-Polish jury. The competition marked the end of Shostakovich’s serious aspirations as a professional concert soloist, although later in 1927 he played Mozart’s Concerto for Two Pianos with Gavriil Popov, and he kept the first concertos of Prokofiev and Tchaikovsky in his repertory until the end of 1930. After that he still played his own works but otherwise confined himself to chamber music.

1927 was a particularly eventful year. He used his honorarium from Warsaw to finance a return trip via Berlin. Soon afterwards, he met Prokofiev who was making the first of many visits to Russia before his definitive return nine years later. Shostakovich played his own recently completed First Piano Sonata, which was one of the few works by the younger generation of Soviet composers to impress Prokofiev. In the aftermath of this visit, and with the encouragement of Yavorsky, Shostakovich produced his even more extreme Aforizmï (‘Aphorisms’) op.13, a series of perversely mistreated genre pieces that seem like attempts to out-scandalize Prokofiev’s Sarcasms. The Leningrad première of Berg’s Wozzeck in June gave a further impetus to Shostakovich’s avant-garde inclinations. Although he tried to play down the notion, the influence of this opera’s tragic-satirical tone and expressionist style was decisive. Its influence can be found in the Symphonic Dedication to October (later retitled Symphony no.2, ‘To October’) on which he had just embarked as a commission from the Propaganda Department of the State Music Publishing House for the tenth anniversary of the October Revolution; it pervades the opera based on Gogol’s Nos (‘The Nose’), then in the planning stages; it also remains a powerful force behind his second opera, Lėdi Makbet Mtsenskogo uyezda (‘Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District’), composed between October 1930 and December 1932. In the symphony, he also amused himself with the idea of introducing factory hooters into the score; their parts are optionally performable by unison brass. The later stages of composition proved an uphill struggle as he wrestled with the final chorus, to a propagandistic text by Aleksandr Bezïmensky which he found contemptible.

2. Arrest of Katerina and Sergey (Act 3 scene viii) in Shostakovich’s ‘Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District’, Malïy Opera Theatre, Leningrad, 22 January 1934; set by Vladimir Dimitriyev

Novosti (London) / SCR Photo Library, London

His work on The Nose received another stimulus from a new friendship with Ivan Sollertinsky, beginning in May 1927. Four years the composer’s senior, this polymath intellectual soon became his mentor, confidant, correspondent and champion in succession to Yavorsky. Sollertinsky’s forceful views on the symphonic tradition were vital factors in Shostakovich’s development. He was already taken with the post-Mahlerian Germanic neo-classicism of Hindemith and Krenek. With Sollertinsky’s encouragement he now made a deep study of Mahler’s music and in so doing discovered the most important composerly affinity of his career.

In the summer of 1927 Shostakovich met Nina Varzar, an 18-year-old physics student, whom he would marry in May 1932 after a courtship complicated by their mothers’ resistance and by his own continued feelings for Tat′yana Glivenko. In September 1927, he encountered the theatre director, Vsevolod Meyerhold, who invited the composer to work with him in Moscow and to stay at his apartment. Shostakovich accepted in early 1928, and worked on The Nose as well as performing in Meyerhold’s theatre. Meanwhile, in December he was elected secretary of the Conservatory’s Postgraduate Society, the first of numerous professional and public service posts he would occupy.

The second half of 1927 and the first half of 1928 were largely taken up with work on The Nose, interrupted by a spell of two months as pianist in the Meyerhold Theatre. Having originally intended to write the entire libretto himself, Shostakovich soon enlisted the help of Georgy Ionin, Aleksandr Preys and, to a lesser and contested extent, Yevgeny Zamyatin. The actual process of composition was extremely swift, as it would be routinely throughout the remainder of his career. He rarely made sketches beyond an aide-mémoire of salient themes; it is, however, likely that he destroyed a good deal of draft material and it is known that several of his major works had false starts (such as the fourth and ninth symphonies) or were entirely recomposed (Symphony no.12, String Quartet no.9).

Having passed the newly required compulsory examination in Marxist ideology in December 1926, Shostakovich contrived to extend his postgraduate registration at the Conservatory until New Year 1930. Fulfilling student requirements, he submitted his Third Symphony, subtitled ‘Pervomayskaya’ (‘The First of May’), composed in mid-1929. Its impact was overshadowed, however, by the fuss surrounding The Nose. By the time the opera was finally given its first performance, at the Malïy Theatre on 18 January 1930, the critical climate had changed. Although questionnaires proved that the audience was responsive, reviews were largely hostile, even from former supporters of the opera. Shostakovich was accused for the first time in his life of ‘formalism’, a word that by now had lost its former connotations, either of conservative academic routine or of a radical foregrounding of formal devices, and had become an all-purpose insult to be directed at any artistic production that was deemed either incomprehensible to the ‘People’ or in any way ideologically wrong-headed.

As a student, Shostakovich had benefited from the relative pluralism and liberalism in the Soviet arts world, results of policies enshrined in a Party resolution of 1925. This favourable situation was, however, gradually giving way to monopolistic state control. By 1929 the Russian Association of Proletarian Musicians (RAPM) achieved hegemony over the Western-orientated Association for Contemporary Music (ASM), only to be swept aside in turn by another Party decree in 1932. Some RAPM members later allied themselves with Shostakovich (Daniil Zhitomirsky, Lev Lebedinsky); others remained a thorn in his flesh (Vladimir Zakharov, Marian Koval, Klavdiya Uspenskaya). The ascendancy of RAPM was brief but intimidating. While Shostakovich’s compositions were lambasted in the press, his own official pronouncements, including self-assessments for the Conservatory, became defensive in tone and voiced concerns to create music ‘for the People’. When he gave his first interview for the foreign press in 1931, he voiced orthodox Leninist views on the association of music and ideology and on the special place of Soviet music in the ‘struggle’; where his actual convictions stood at this time is still a matter for debate.

The Union of Soviet Composers replaced the RAPM after the three-year hegemony of this independent organization. The Union was, supposedly, broadly-based and centrist in outlook, relatively tolerant in its policy and with a remit to rationalize the entire infrastructure of Soviet musical education, composition and criticism. As such, it was welcomed by Shostakovich and most of his fellow-composers, but its additional function as an instrument of Party control soon became evident. The dogma behind that control was the doctrine of Socialist Realism, officially defined in 1934 as ‘the truthful and historically concrete representation of reality in its revolutionary development’. In practice, it meant almost precisely the opposite. Unsurprisingly, Soviet ideologues never succeeded in spelling out the implications for music, beyond the desirability of lyricism, a heroic tone and popular appeal based on the language of the 19th-century Russian classics. It could be argued that, to a certain extent, Shostakovich was ready to move in these directions anyway. Shostakovich had briefly been associated with the Leningrad branch of the ASM and other groups for the discussion and dissemination of new music, but he had held aloof from overt propagandizing of modernism. With regard to the support he professed from about 1930 for more traditional musical values, it is impossible to separate the expression of genuine belief from expediency. He contradicted one or the other of these points of view in many instances. In 1930, for instance, he sounded off in RAPM-ist fashion against the supposed bourgeois delinquency of jazz and ‘light genres’ and ‘apologized’ for his own contributions, such as his famous arrangement of ‘Tea for Two’, tossed off for a bet in 45 minutes in October 1928. Yet he continued to indulge in such things himself, and when the Party line allowed a relative permissiveness, he produced his First Jazz Suite (February 1934) and took part in a jazz competition and commission in Leningrad.

In these years Shostakovich produced incidental music for some ten films, eight theatre pieces and three ballets, all of them either downright propagandist or at least thinly disguised allegories of capitalist vice and communist virtue. In later life, the evident association of their subject matter with the brutal Stalinist policies of agricultural collectivization, the industrialization of the first Five-Year Plan, class war and its associated purges, was a severe embarrassment to him. His unease was not lessened by the lack of evidence that he had been ideologically committed to the subject matter: if anything, his letters express contempt for the simplistic plots. At the time Shostakovich defined ideology in music in terms not of the subject matter alone but of the composer’s attitude to it, which at least allows his motives in these works to be read in more than one way.

The stage and screen works were first and foremost a lucrative proposition – Shostakovich’s first film project, the 90-minute score for Kozintsev and Trauberg’s silent film Novïy Vavilon (‘The New Babylon’) of 1929 – netted him 2000 rubles; this payment enabled him to holiday that summer in the Crimea (the return flight to Moscow cost 54 rubles). In these scores he was able also to indulge his predilection for grotesque humour, at the expense of caricatured bourgeois-capitalist figures. However, the thin plots and crass production values made these projects frustrating to work on, and in the case of The New Babylon the participation of a live orchestra, playing from defective parts, produced a fiasco. Nor did political correctness guarantee the approval of the proletarian-dominated press. Regrettably, Shostakovich was obviously more fluent in producing satirical caricatures than affirmative paeans, so that the music representing the decadent bourgeoisie tended to be more enjoyable than that portraying the heroic-revolutionary, positive role-models.

1929 also saw Shostakovich’s first commission for a ballet score. Zolotoy vek (‘The Golden Age’) came about as the result of a competition for a ballet on contemporary ideological themes, and the results were as keenly scrutinized as The Nose had been. Aleksandr Ivanovsky’s storyline, concerning a group of Soviet sportsmen foiling capitalist opponents during an industrial exhibition in ‘Fasch-landia’, went through many variants at the committee stage, and its progress through rehearsal was fraught with difficulties, reflected in the complex picture presented by surviving scores. The eventual première in October 1930 was a public success; despite savage reviews, productions followed in Kiev and Odessa. Shostakovich’s dissatisfaction with the piece focussed primarily on the theatrical and visual aspects of the production. He publicly resolved to commit himself in future only to projects that excited him and over which he could exert a measure of artistic control; Lady Macbeth was already at the back of his mind. In the meantime, however, he had further commissions which were hardly in line with this resolution, including a second ballet, Bolt (‘The Bolt’) which was composed during the period 1930–31 and concerned the topical subject of industrial ‘wreckers’. In the summer of 1931, he was persuaded to provide music for a vaudeville show at the Leningrad Musical Hall, entitled Uslovno ubitïy (‘Declared Dead’). The story, loosely based around the topic of civil defence, features a character who is ‘declared dead’ during an air raid drill, but it also contrives to work in a dizzying array of circus acts. As with several of Shostakovich’s theatre projects of this time, the fun and games seem to be the main point of the exercise, the ideological dimension just a pretext. This at least is how many such projects were received at the time, which makes the outrage they provoked in some quarters the more understandable.

Shostakovich was initially excited by the prospect of working with directors of the calibre of Meyerhold – on Mayakovsky’s Klop (‘The Bedbug’) in 1929 – and Mikhail Sokolovsky at the Leningrad Theatre of Young Workers (known usually by its Russian acronym TRAM). Originally a forum for amateur performances of agit-prop plays, TRAM had turned professional by the time Shostakovich became associated with it (from 1929 to late 1932). After some initial enthusiasm on Shostakovich’s part, disillusion soon set in. As soon as he sensed the official line turning against the proletarian wing, he distanced himself from the theatre.

Near the end of 1931, he reflected on three years of work mainly in the service of theatre and film. He rated only his Third Symphony and The Nose as worthy contributions to Soviet art, and with the exception of the planned production of Hamlet at the Vakhtangov Theatre he resolved to abstain from theatrical commissions for five years. He took the opportunity to lament the ‘catastrophic’ state of Soviet music in general. This duly brought forth a vituperative response from RAPM, but his views chimed in with official reasons given for the shakeup the following year with the creation of the Composers’ Union. Whether Shostakovich had foreknowledge of the impending reorganization is not known, but he was certainly in the select consultation group that met in April 1932 with Lunacharsky’s successor Andrey Bubnov to discuss the formation of the new Union. Shostakovich served on the governing body of the Leningrad branch from its inception in August.

The Nose had been a conspicuous exception to the tacit requirement that stage works should display positive ideological commitment, and as such, it had demanded special pleading from the composer. Notwithstanding the negative reactions in the press, Shostakovich had now become the focus of hopes for the future of Soviet opera, which in the past 15 years had failed to produce a single new repertory piece. Having turned down various proposed projects, Shostakovich plumped for his own idea to adapt Nikolay Leskov’s short story Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk District. With the help of Aleksandr Preys he fashioned a libretto and worked on the composition on and off between September 1931 and December 1932. So confident was he of its quality that he had negotiated productions in both Moscow and Leningrad with only half of the music composed.

Completion of Lady Macbeth was delayed by work on the incidental music Shostakovich had promised for the unconventional production of Hamlet and by a film score for Vstrechnïy (‘Counterplan’), set in a Leningrad turbine factory and dealing with workers’ determination to meet production quotas despite lazy management. For the film he took unusual pains to perfect the theme-tune, ‘Song of the Counterplan’, which became immensely popular and won international recognition from 1942 when it was published with a new text by Harold F. Rome as ‘The United Nations’. Shostakovich continued to provide incidental theatre and film music even after the completion of Lady Macbeth in December 1932. He tried his hand at operetta (the incomplete Bol′shaya molniya (‘The Great Lightning’) to a libretto by Nikolay Aseyev) and even cartoon-film-opera – Skazka o pope i rabotnike yego Balde (‘The Tale of the Priest and his Worker, Blockhead’), after a story by Pushkin. He also made a decisive return to instrumental composition. He had reportedly composed the first movement of a Symphony Ot Karla Marksa do nashikhdney (‘From Karl Marx to Our Days’) in February 1932 (now missing). There followed 24 Preludes, composed December 1932 to January 1933, still Prokofievian in spirit, but emulating the latter’s Visions fugitives and hence much milder in tone than Shostakovich’s previous piano works. Next came the First Piano Concerto, an uproarious piece studded with in-joke quotations and including an obbligato trumpet part designed for the Leningrad PO’s Aleksandr Shmidt, followed by a Sonata for cello and piano composed at the suggestion of his cellist friend and recital partner Viktor Kubatsky. For several years, Shostakovich had been advocating that Soviet composers should not neglect chamber music, and in its outwardly traditional four-movement layout the Cello Sonata was his first significant attempt to lead by example. It also presaged a new restrained classicism in his style. A suite for bassoon and orchestra, a violin concerto and a quartet were among works planned at this time that never came to fruition.

On 13 May 1932, Shostakovich married Nina Varzar (1910–54), without initially informing his mother and sisters. Nina moved into the family’s communal apartment until early 1934 when he used honoraria from performances of Lady Macbeth to purchase a private apartment. In the summer of that year the marriage was shaken when Shostakovich fell in love with a 20-year-old translator, Yelena Konstantinovskaya (who was to be anonymously denounced and arrested in 1935, shortly after the end of her relationship with Shostakovich). Although the Shostakoviches had agreed that their marriage would be open, this affair nearly ended it. After separation and, according to Nina, an official divorce, the marriage was patched up; with the conception of their first child (Galina, born May 1936) it was definitively stabilized, even though both partners later pursued extra-marital relationships.

The two premières of Lady Macbeth – in Leningrad on 22 January 1934, in Moscow two days later – turned the spotlight on Shostakovich as never before. The opera was a resounding popular and critical success, and prominent musicians were lavish in their praise. Negative reaction came from the conservative wing of the Composers’ Union, but at this stage Shostakovich was able to shrug it off with confidence. In a little over two years the two productions ran up 177 performances at near-capacity attendance, and productions were mounted in the provinces and abroad. His position at the cutting-edge of Soviet operatic composition was now unchallenged and his views were sought in all sorts of deliberations on the state of the art. He announced plans for a Ring-style tetralogy on Russian heroines, with Lady Macbeth as its Rheingold, and he assisted the young Ivan Dzerzhinsky with his opera Tikhiy Don (‘Quiet Flows the Don’).

He made one final effort at producing a successful ballet score with Svetlïy ruchey (‘The Limpid Stream’), composed mostly in late 1934. This insipid tale of Soviet artists and farmers who reach comradely understanding on a kolkhoz in the Kuban region, was a characteristic product of the early Socialist Realist era. Whatever enthusiasm for the project Shostakovich may initially have had soon evaporated during his work on it. He pressed into service numbers from The Golden Age and The Bolt, and even the devoted Sollertinsky was less than thrilled with the result.

Stalin’s unleashing of mass purges (the Great Terror) following the murder of Sergey Kirov in December 1934 touched musicians less than writers, but only in the sense that no more than a handful were actually deported or murdered. At the time, they enjoyed no such reassuring hindsight, and in any case, it was readily apparent that their careers, if not their lives, were threatened. Whatever his private or publicly expressed beliefs, Shostakovich’s role as the most prominent and internationally renowned Soviet composer made him an obvious target when the clampdown came. On 17 January 1936, Stalin and a group of high-ranking officials attended a performance of Dzerzhinsky’s Quiet Flows the Don at the Leningrad Malïy Theatre, and their approval was widely reported. Nine days later they went to the new Bolshoy production of Lady Macbeth, and the upshot was an unsigned condemnatory article which appeared in Pravda on 28 January. This now notorious article was headed ‘Muddle instead of music’. It castigated Shostakovich for ‘“leftist” confusion instead of natural, human music’ and warned him plainly of the consequences if he failed to mend his ways. The judgment was reinforced on 6 February when a further unsigned article damned The Limpid Stream as ‘balletic falsity’. The shock to the cultural establishment was profound and Shostakovich was toppled almost overnight from his position as the leading light of Soviet music. He would eventually recover his position but it would be a long time before he again felt secure in it. This reduction of Shostakovich’s stature and the warning to his musician colleagues was probably the main point of the exercise. These colleagues joined in the ‘discussions’ which followed amid the atmosphere of fear which characterized the Great Terror. With the honourable exceptions of Andria Balanchivadze, Vladimir Shcherbachyov, Shebalin and Sollertinsky, all of these colleagues spoke in favour of the censorious official resolutions; even Sollertinsky was soon forced to change his tune. Asaf′yev was particularly quick to condemn, thereby earning Shostakovich’s undying scorn. It should, however, be remembered that the risks of not falling into line were dire. Virtually every family in Moscow and St Petersburg would be touched by the ongoing purges. Shostakovich’s own brother-in-law, mother-in-law and uncle were among those arrested, as was his former lover Konstantinovskaya. Artists associated with Shostakovich who were arrested included Meyerhold, the poet Boris Kornïlov (author of ‘The Song of the Counterplan’) and Adrian Pyotrovsky (librettist of The Limpid Stream).

In the wake of the Pravda denunciations Shostakovich instructed his friend, correspondent and, for a while, unofficial secretary, the young literary historian Isaak Glikman, to compile a scrapbook of those statements in the press which castigated him. According to several witnesses, he contemplated suicide at this time. He turned to Tukhachevsky for advice, and the prominent marshal wrote to Stalin personally to intercede, as did Gorky, who attributed the tone of the article to jealous rivals of Shostakovich and deplored its effect on the still young composer. But Tukhachevsky’s days were numbered; he perished the following year in Stalin’s purge of the Red Army generals. Gorky predeceased him in still unclarified circumstances. Unconfirmed stories have circulated of Shostakovich being interrogated as an associate of Tukhachevsky; the NKVD apparently had him down as a Trotskyite.

What kept Shostakovich going was the imminent birth of his first child (Galina, born on 30 May 1936) and a major ongoing composing project. In May 1934, Shostakovich had been planning a symphony ostensibly about the defence of the homeland. In November he had made some sketches, expanding these to drafts in the following year and producing Five Fragments for orchestra, which seem like further preliminary studies for the Fourth Symphony. His work was interrupted by a trip to Turkey in April–May 1935, by rehearsals for The Limpid Stream, by his contributions to discussions about Meyerhold’s production of Tchaikovsky’s The Queen of Spades, and finally by the Pravda affair and its repercussions. He eventually completed the piano score of the symphony in April 1936, and the orchestration in May. In November, shortly before the scheduled première, Shostakovich bowed to official pressure and withdrew the work. It was published in duet form in 1946, shortly before his second fall from grace, but not performed until 1961 as part of his final rehabilitation during the post-Stalin thaw.

(ii) Works.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

On 16 June 1926, two months after being admitted to the postgraduate course in composition at the conservatory and one month after the première of his First Symphony, Shostakovich compiled his first curriculum vitae. A drily factual document, excepting the stated determination not to go back to ‘hack-work’ as a cinema accompanist, it gave no indication of the crisis of creative confidence he had been undergoing since completing the symphony. This crisis had led him to burn a number of manuscripts, including a juvenile piano sonata, a ballet on Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid, and an opera on Pushkin’s The Gypsies (the poem also set by Rachmaninoff as Aleko). For a while his future creative direction seemed unclear; plans for a piano concerto and a second symphony were abandoned.

The crisis passed, and during the next two years Shostakovich struck out in the most modernistic manner he would ever adopt, composing at high speed and without apparent inhibition. Much influenced by the ‘linear counterpoint’ of Krenek and Hindemith, which his friends and mentors Yudina, Asaf′yev and Yavorsky had put his way, the grotesque-scherzo vein of his undergraduate years hardened into wilful experimentation in his next four works. The Romantic lyricism of the First Piano Trio went underground, to be glimpsed only in the form of vaporous mysticism (as in the First Piano Sonata) or vicious parody (as in the Aphorisms). The Sonata’s angular brutalism is indebted to Prokofiev, whose Third Sonata and Third Concerto supply the principal models, while its torpid lyrical interludes recall Skryabin. The ten Aphorisms are even more extreme. Ronald Stevenson’s suggested alternative designation, Graffiti, seems entirely appropriate.

5. Shostakovich (centre) with Prokofiev (left) and Khachaturian, Moscow, 1945

Novosti (London)

Armed with his newly forged modernist idiom, Shostakovich then returned to orchestral writing. The ‘Symphonic Dedication to October’ – later designated the Second Symphony – is a single-movement oratorio-symphony. The work is notorious for its miasmic opening, with layered polyrhythms prophetic of 1960s Ligetian micropolyphony, and for a passage of manic 13-part free-association counterpoint as anarchic as anything in Schnittke. The influence of Berg’s Wozzeck pervades this part of the work. Both of these passages appear to have a programmatic function as representations of the oppression and chaos of life under tsarist rule, before the redemptive appearance of Lenin and the Bolshevik Revolution is heralded in an agitprop-style final chorus. So vivid is Shostakovich’s thematic invention that this stylistic disparity may be viewed not as weak composition but as a kind of bold objectivity, a thesis and antithesis denied culminatory synthesis, expressing a dichotomous world-view; later symphonies explore similar creative possibilities, albeit with more subtlety, over multi-movement cycles. In its broad outline of modernistic first half and bombastic final chorus, the Third Symphony follows the same pattern as the Second. This time, however, the themes and textures are more traditional in cut, and the structural premise is one of non-repetition. In this work Shostakovich seems to quarry out enough thematic and textural raw material for the rest of his symphonic career.

With the exception of his two operas and the theatre music for Hamlet, the 20 or so scores for stage and screen Shostakovich reeled off between 1928 and 1936 give the impression of hasty, off-the-top-of-the-head composition, largely indifferent to their propagandistic textual content. None of them is without intrinsic interest, however, and many contain pointers to the future. This is the heyday of Shostakovich’s waltzes, marches, polkas and galops, learned largely from Offenbach with Sollertinsky’s encouragement, but also from Tchaikovsky, Lehár, Johann Strauss and other operetta composers. A significant musical pointer to the future is Shostakovich’s first passacaglia, albeit a rather timid affair, for the eighth scene of New Babylon, depicting the tragic aftermath of the violent overthrow of the Commune. After this and Odna (‘Alone’) the style of Shostakovich’s film and theatre scores gradually becomes more conventional. The score of Hamlet stands out for its memorable material and exceptionally light touch, and the suite of 13 numbers compiled by the composer from it has won a place in the concert repertory.

Just as there is nothing like the sustained inspiration of Prokofiev’s Lieutenant Kijé or Ivan the Terrible in Shostakovich’s film scores, so his three ballets cannot compare with Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. Next to the operas they are, however, the most substantial of his stage works. By 1930 Soviet choreographers were faced by the problem of producing scenarios of contemporary relevance while still using classical steps and ensemble routines which had changed little since Tchaikovsky. The musical interest of Shostakovich’s ballet scores is sporadic and relies heavily on linear counterpoint blended from Hindemith and Stravinsky. The Golden Age, however, has some finely sustained composition in its finales and in the whole of act three. Each ballet features a half dozen or so memorable numbers, later collected into concert suites. The cheeky, wrong-note Polka from The Golden Age, originally intended for a send-up of a Geneva international disarmament conference, was an instant hit; it was subsequently arranged by the composer for piano and for string quartet, and by others for all manner of ensembles. The Bureaucrat’s Polka from The Bolt is another memorable cameo, its malevolent bassoon writing anticipating the characterization of Katerina’s father-in-law in Lady Macbeth. Among the other highlights in this score are a spoof-Tchaikovsky opening, a naughty habañera, music for radio gymnastic exercises and some coy Soviet ragtime. The Limpid Stream pales by comparison, thanks largely to the virtual elimination of grotesquerie and satire. Unable or unwilling to indulge in such antics since around the middle of 1934, Shostakovich produced a farrago of pretty polkas, chaste waltzes, oom-cha café music and low-pressure Tchaikovskian adagios.

His film, theatre and ballet scores may have been composed at breakneck speed and with no heed for the verdict of posterity, but Shostakovich spared no effort with his operas. Inspired by the example of Meyerhold, Shostakovich made The Nose the most uncompromisingly modernist of all his stage-works, its language pushed to extremes in most conceivable respects. Its reception was therefore always going to be problematic, and thanks to bad timing, it became caught up additionally in heated debates over the desirability of satire. Even the most negative reviews were not wrong in detecting wilful extremism and indebtedness to Western models. Nor would they have been wrong had they confined their censure to complaints of artistic one-sidedness, since the unremitting shock tactics of the tactics of the instrumentation (for chamber orchestra but with a large percussion section) and of the vocal writing (for a cast of around 80 soloists) are excessive by almost any standards. With hindsight, Shostakovich’s arguments for the fundamental seriousness of his setting, its faithfulness to Gogol’s text, and its attempt to fashion each act as a ‘Theatre Symphony’ on the lines of Meyerhold’s 1926 production of The Government Inspector, seem to have an element of defensive special pleading. At the time they were made, however, the future of Soviet opera the general direction of the country’s artistic policies were impossible to foresee, so experimentation of this kind was by no means foredoomed to failure. More to the point is the phenomenal energy of the writing – be it the hilarious onomatopoeia of Kovalyov’s waking scene (outdoing the snoring scene in Wozzeck) or the relentless accumulation of the preceding percussion-only interlude (by no means the first percussion-only composition, but still three years before Varèse’s often-cited Ionisation).

Shostakovich began work on Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District hard on the heels of the controversies which removed The Nose from the stage. Where in The Nose Shostakovich professed maximum fidelity to Gogol, here he deliberately inverted Leskov’s attitude to his heroine, Katerina Izmaylova, excusing her murders and laying the blame on the surrounding social order. There is nothing to stop us reading the indictment in Lady Macbeth as allegorically applicable to other societies, including Shostakovich’s own. Since the rehabilitation of the original version of the opera in the late 1970s, this possibility has been much exploited by producers and commentators in the West. But the thrust of the infamous ‘Muddle instead of music’ article was precisely against the opera’s lack of political commitments and the tastelessness of its sex scenes. Such evidence as there is, beyond Shostakovich’s official statements which may contain an unquantifiable element of camouflage, suggests that the Pravda writer was not entirely misguided in those respects, since Shostakovich was concerned with Katerina’s embodiment of reckless passion more than with any contemporary relevance. The dehumanization of her oppressors, which some now read as complicity with Stalin’s de-kulakization and others as coded anti-Stalinism, may have been mainly an outlet for the composer’s barbed sense of humour and his enthusiasm for the work of Berg and Krenek. Whether or not contemporary relevance figured in Shostakovich’s initial artistic intentions it certainly did so in his later calculations. In various essays and interviews, he stressed the point of Katerina’s oppressors being akin to 1930s ‘kulaks’. Yet nothing in his correspondence or reported views suggests he was doing anything more thereby than covering himself. Nor, at the other ideological extreme, is there evidence that the depiction of the police was an allegorical dig aimed at Stalin’s security forces. At least equally plausible is the supposition that the various elements of the story simply allowed Shostakovich to make a compelling large-scale drama, deploying his own over-riding interest in blending tragedy and satire, on the lines of the ‘Dostoyevsky narrated in the language of Charlie Chaplin’ Sollertinsky identified in Mahler’s symphonies.

In retrospect, virtually all Shostakovich’s music for stage and screen from these years seems like a preliminary study for Lady Macbeth. Some of it he transferred almost note-for-note, such as the ‘Bacchanale’ from Declared Dead which became the music for Aksinya’s molestation in scene ii of the opera. Some of it established a mood-archetype that could easily be adapted, such as the ‘Music for the Strolling Players’ from Hamlet, which was adapted to express Katerina’s outrage in Act 4. Even the lyrical and fateful tone of Lady Macbeth is prepared for in the Six Romances on Words of Japanese Poets op.21. More generally, both The Golden Age and The Bolt had been testing-grounds for the portrayal of positive and negative characters by means of genuine-lyrical and artificially decadent, Western-orientated music respectively. In Lady Macbeth the decadent music is used to highlight the cruelty of the father-in-law, the husband and eventually even the lover, all of whom oppress Katerina, in addition to the ineffectuality of the priest, police and farm-hands. The ‘genuine’ lyricism is reserved for Katerina herself and the prisoners in Act 4, symbols of the oppressed individual and the oppressed community respectively.

Shostakovich’s involvement with the theatre had forced him to neglect instrumental composition and performing. In 1933 and 1934 he addressed both aspects with three works for his own concert use, all of which would become repertory favourites. They show him at a stylistic crossroads. The 24 Preludes, composed between December 1932 and March 1933, follow Chopin’s ordering of major and relative-minor arranged in an ascending circle of fifths, while their style emulates the comparatively restrained manner of Prokofiev’s Visions fugitives. Prokofiev is again behind the Piano Concerto, which takes over much more of the theatrical element from Shostakovich’s stage works, complete with galops, can-cans and hilarious quotations. Critics singled out the lyricism of the score for comment, which may seem strange given its preponderance of circus-act tumbling routines. But they were right to see the lyricism as a significant development. Whether as a result of self-evaluation, or from a need for self-preservation, or simply with an ear to a general international spirit of the times, Shostakovich had been voicing his personal concern about the need for a new lyricism and had begun to put it into practice in Lady Macbeth. He took it a crucial stage further in his Cello Sonata of 1934. This was his first large-scale piece of chamber music. It was without programme, relatively conservative in idiom and cast in the four traditional movements, including, for the first time in his life, a repeated first movement exposition. Yet for all the Sonata’s restrained exterior, Shostakovich’s personal experiences never seem far from the surface. It would not be difficult to find echoes of his stormy love-life in the alternately troubled and amorous first movement, while the intense climax to the elegiac slow movement seems to reach out compassionately towards the suffering around him. It is ironic that Shostakovich was performing the Cello Sonata on the very day the Pravda article appeared, since it puts into practice many of the principles he was accused of neglecting. But at least he had the experience of this work to fall back on when it came to writing the classically proportioned large-scale works necessary for his rehabilitation.

Before he could follow that path, he was faced with the task of completing the Fourth Symphony, which he had embarked on as a kind of ‘symphonic credo’. Unusually, abortive sketches for the first movement survive, and the Five Fragments seem like further preliminary studies for its themes. What finally emerged in its three-movement 60-minute span was a colossal synthesis of Shostakovich’s musical development to date and a range of character and style from grotesquerie to high tragedy, all carried along on waves of delirious enthusiasm. The massive structure is drawn together largely by lessons learned from his recent Sollertinsky-inspired study of Mahler. Musical imagery from Mahler’s Second and Fifth Symphonies and Das Lied von der Erde went almost directly into Shostakovich’s symphonies from the Fourth onwards; the emulation of Mahler’s tone of sustained ambivalence offered him a survival strategy when ideological pressures narrowed his options.

3. 1936–53.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

(i) Life.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

The curriculum vitae Shostakovich wrote for the December 1936 edition of La revue musicale made no mention of the traumas of the earlier part of the year, and it ended with an orthodox Stalinist statement of his commitment to ‘the development of socialism in my country’. In reality, having survived the immediate aftermath of the Pravda denunciations, he now had to find means of surviving creatively. He needed a formula for balancing his artistic conscience with requirements handed down from above, which could be as unpredictable as they were imperative. He found the solution largely by continuing to moderate his style in the direction of ‘acceptable’ lyrical and heroic intonations, while at the same time devising an interplay of contextual and intertextual meanings which could modify or even contradict the surface impression.

The cycle of Pushkin Romances he composed mainly in December 1936 for the poet’s upcoming centenary celebrations, opens with a setting of ‘Rebirth’. It is tempting to read this as an emblem for Shostakovich’s personal situation: its text refers to the permanence of art despite the interference of a ‘barbarian’. When the characteristic accompaniment figure to this song, and the opening motif of its vocal line, reappear in the finale of the Fifth Symphony, on which he worked between April and June 1937, the strong inference is that the symphony is, at least at one significant level, another document of creative survival and rebirth. Such possibly veiled statements in Shostakovich’s works are commonly referred to as ‘aesopian’, and their frequency increases rapidly from this time. By definition the subtext is partly left to the imagination of the listener; it is never so blatantly spelled out as to endanger the composer’s safety or to make his intention verifiable except on a balance of probabilities which may always remain contentious.

The première of the Fifth Symphony on 21 November 1937 was the scene of extraordinary public acclamation. There was open weeping in the slow movement and a half-hour ovation at the end, suggesting a mixture of jubilation at the composer’s presumed imminent rehabilitation and recognition of a channel for a mass grieving at the height of the Great Terror, impossible otherwise to express openly. Well versed by now in politically correct jargon and able to use it with masterly ambivalence, Shostakovich approved what he claimed was a journalist’s description of the work as ‘a Soviet artist’s practical creative reply to just criticism’; since the source of this description has never been located, it is possible that the composer himself coined it, or was advised to, as a subterfuge to assist in his rehabilitation. A few negative criticisms of the new symphony were heard, including some perceptive ones that pointed to unresolved tensions in the Finale. The overwhelming consensus, however, was positive.

In spring 1937, at the instigation of a group of students, the director of the Leningrad Conservatory Boris Zagursky had invited Shostakovich to join the teaching staff, at the same time as Sollertinsky and Sofronitsky were taken on. In the aftermath of his fall from grace, with fewer commissions and a new baby daughter to support, Shostakovich accepted with alacrity. The post, to teach instrumentation and composition, was also a useful sign of his commitment, undoubtedly genuine, to the fostering of musical education in the country. He began work in September 1937, taking on Georgy Sviridov and Orest Yevlakhov, whose teacher Pyotr Ryazanov was on leave. They were soon joined by eight other pupils, of whom the best known were Yury Levitin, Veniamin Fleischmann [Fleyshman] and Galina Ustvol′skaya. Shostakovich taught in two sessions of five to seven hours each per week and had two assistants working under him. Apart from overseeing his students’ compositions, he supervised duet performances of masterworks, including some that he himself had transcribed, such as Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms. He aired questions of aesthetics and the sociological function of music and led group discussions of work in progress. In class, he most often analysed works of Beethoven, Brahms, Mahler and Tchaikovsky, and he claimed that he often turned to Tchaikovsky for solving formal problems.

His pupils attended rehearsals of his new works and many of them naturally gravitated towards his style. But he also occasionally took the cue from them, especially from the ascetic intensity of Ustvol′skaya, whose 1949 Clarinet Trio he quoted in his Fifth Quartet and Michelangelo Suite, but also in various ways from Fleischmann and in later years from Boris Chaykovsky, Karen Khachaturyan, Kara Karayev and Boris Tishchenko. Most importantly perhaps, the analysis and supervision he had to carry out on a regular basis underpinned his own move in the direction of classical restraint that had been partly enforced, partly voluntary.

Shostakovich was made a full professor in June 1939. His conservatory teaching career was interrupted in mid-1941 by the siege of Leningrad and his evacuation, but was resumed officially in June 1943 in Moscow and in February 1947 in Leningrad. His teaching broke off again with his fall from grace in 1948, resumed again in 1961 with a postgraduate seminar in Leningrad, and finally concluded around 1966–8.

His teaching activity, combined with the relief of rehabilitation, made it temporarily difficult for him to contemplate major creative enterprises. In the year following the Fifth Symphony he abandoned a large number of projects, including plans for a Lenin Symphony, which he mentioned repeatedly in interviews over a number of years, but which he may never have seriously intended to write until circumstances eventually forced him to in 1962, resulting in the Twelfth Symphony. Those works he completed were generally undemanding: a succession of film scores, a second Jazz Suite for the recently formed State Jazz Orchestra (not to be confused with the suite for variety stage orchestra sometimes heard under that title, which is merely a compilation of tunes from various film scores), and his First String Quartet, the most easy-going of all his instrumental works, composed at the behest of the Glazunov Quartet. Between 1939 and Russia’s entry into the war in June 1941 he added to these a Piano Quintet for himself to play with the Beethoven Quartet, produced more film scores, toyed with but abandoned more ideas for operas and ballets, and produced his own instrumentation of Musorgsky’s Boris Godunov, a spin-off from his involvement in that composer’s centenary celebrations. His professional activities were many and varied, and these years were generally outwardly free from strife. For many artists in the Soviet Union there was a certain superficial truth in Stalin’s maxim ‘life is getting better, life is getting happier’. Material rewards for approved activity were considerable, the price being conformity, constant fear of denunciation and silence about the misery in which the vast majority of the population were living. Shostakovich’s most significant work from these times was the Sixth Symphony, composed between April and October 1939. This work disappointed those who were expecting something on the lines of the Fifth, but its bizarre succession of apparently unrelated moods parallels the profoundly contradictory spirit of the times.

On 22 June 1941, when Shostakovich was involved with piano examinations at the Conservatory, the Nazis invaded Russia. Within a month he had begun work on the Seventh Symphony, which was to become an icon of resistance to the siege of his home city and one of the most widely discussed documents in the history of music. The known details of his activity in the second half of this year suggest that he was caught up in the general wave of patriotic fervour which Stalin astutely orchestrated by appealing for loyalty not to the Communist State but to the Russian Nation. Before embarking on the Symphony, Shostakovich completed Klyatva Narkomu (‘Oath to the People’s Commissar’) in mass-song style and made 27 arrangements mainly of Russian art songs, for use at Leningrad frontline concerts. He served on firewatch duty at the Conservatory and on 16 August refused a first offer of evacuation from the besieged city. The Seventh Symphony was initially conceived as a single-movement tone poem, but he rapidly completed three movements before agreeing to leave Leningrad. On 1 October he flew to Moscow and two weeks later went by train to Kuybïshev (now Samara), 800 km to the east in the southern Urals. There he completed the symphony on 27 December.

The work was first performed in Kuybïshev on 5 March 1942, and its propaganda value was immediately realized. A microfilm of the score was flown to the West, where Toscanini and Stokowski were vying for the Western première; they were narrowly beaten to it by Sir Henry Wood at the London Proms. Other Russian orchestras took up the work, and on the day Hitler had decreed Leningrad should fall the besieged city itself mustered a historic performance from its few remaining musicians, reinforced by others recalled from the front; this was broadcast to the German troops in a show of defiance. Anti-Fascist and communist sympathizers in the West now took up Shostakovich’s cause with renewed vigour. Alan Bush and others organized lectures in London, and in September 1942 Charlie Chaplin, Paul Robeson, Toscanini and Stokowski sent him 36th birthday greetings from a San Francisco Festival devoted to his music. In 1942 Shostakovich travelled between Moscow, Kuybïshev and other provincial Russian cities. He worked on an opera to Gogol’s Igroki (‘The Gamblers’), but gave it up as impractical at the end of the year, having completed some 45–50 minutes of music. Also in 1942 he composed his Six Romances op.62, orchestrating them the following year, and assembled a suite of patriotic pieces entitled Native Leningrad for a concert play spectacle Otchizna (‘Native Country’). He also wrote the first of three scores for the Ensemble of Song and Dance of the NKVD, headed by Lavrenty Beriya; its successors were Russkaya reka (‘Russian River’) of 1944, and Vesna pobednaya (‘Victorious Spring’) of 1946, the last of which included another popular hit song, ‘Torches’.

In early 1943 Shostakovich settled in Moscow, and from June he resumed teaching when he was appointed by Shebalin to work at the Moscow Conservatory. Here his best-known pupils included Karen Khachaturyan (nephew of Aram), Kara Karayev, German Galïnin and Boris Chaykovsky. From 1 February 1947 he also taught at the Leningrad Conservatory, commuting there one day a week, but he decided not to return to live in his former home town. Late in 1943 he met Stalin for the first time when the latter judged a competition for a new national anthem. His main work in this year was on the Eighth Symphony, at the newly established Composers’ Rest Home at Ivanovo, 240 km north-east of Moscow. As with the Sixth Symphony, expectations aroused by its enormously successful predecessor were dashed. Shostakovich had tried to gloss over the symphony’s prevailing gloom in a newspaper article, describing it as ‘on the whole … an optimistic life-asserting work’, whose ‘philosophical conception … can be summed up in three words: life is beautiful. All that is dark and evil will rot away, and beauty will triumph’. The critics were not fooled, and the more hostile ones hastened to point out that he had produced an optimistic symphony (the Seventh) when the country was under dire threat and now a pessimistic one when victory was in sight. From this time, compositions conceived as memorials became an increasingly common feature of Shostakovich’s output. If the Seventh Symphony commemorated the sufferings of the population of Leningrad, then the Eighth seemed more like a memorial to the whole nation. The Second Piano Sonata was composed in early 1943 in memory of his piano teacher, Nikolayev. A year later, the Second Piano Trio was dedicated to the memory of the recently deceased Sollertinsky, and also paid concealed homage not only to his pupil Fleischmann, who had died at the Leningrad battlefront, but also to the victims of the Holocaust. Shostakovich began work early in 1944, around the time he finished the orchestration and completion of Fleischmann’s opera Rothchild’s Violin, whose memorable Jewish dance themes are echoed in the finale of Shostakovich’s Trio; this inaugurated a significant strand of musical imagery in his work. The Trio was not completed until August, and he followed on almost immediately with the Second String Quartet.

The great memorial work expected of him was the Ninth Symphony, which was scheduled to appear in the victory year of 1945. Having announced and, according to some sources, composed parts of a heroic victory symphony, he produced instead a deceptively lightweight score that caused some consternation. The wartime years had been a paradoxical window of opportunity for Russian composers. It had been possible to compose overtly tragic music on the pretext of referring to oppression from outside (which at one level it no doubt did), as well as private, relatively complex music, in the knowledge that the authorities had other calls on their watchfulness. After the war, close official scrutiny rapidly returned. Celebration of victory, and especially the role of Stalin and the Party in it, was now de rigueur, and vigilance against Western contamination was all the more stringent given the contact that Russians had had with the West during the war. One consequence of this renewed zealotry was that there was an eight-year gap before Shostakovich’s next symphony; in the meantime the symphonic urge was deflected into concertos and string quartets.

1946 was a relatively quiet year, with the highly symphonic Third Quartet being the main project. Shostakovich was still sufficiently in favour for his Fourth Symphony to be published in piano duet form. That year he began a family routine of spending the summer in Kellomäki, a village outside Leningrad, known as Komarovo from 1948. In February 1947, he took on administrative posts in addition to his teaching work, including chairmanship of the Leningrad Composers’ Organization and deputy for Leningrad to the Supreme Council of the RSFSR. This offered him little protection from the oppression to come, however. In July 1947, inspired by the artistry of David Oistrakh, he began the First Violin Concerto, another crypto-symphony, and he was working on it when the storm finally broke. The renewed clampdown in the arts, which had already affected writers and film-makers, reached composers in January 1948, courtesy of Andrey Zhdanov, Politburo member with responsibility for the arts. It was enshrined in a Party Decree on 10 February, which, while criticizing the opera The Great Friendship by the modestly talented conformist Vano Muradeli, mainly targeted Shostakovich along with Myaskovsky, Popov, Prokofiev, Shaporin and Shebalin, all of whom were accused of leading Soviet music astray and of other sins under the catch-all heading of ‘formalism’. Zhdanov’s January speech provided material for Shostakovich’s lampoon, Antiformalisticheskiy Rayok, a satirical chamber cantata conceived at the time but probably notated mainly in 1957 and further elaborated in the 1960s. For obvious reasons, this piece was not made public in the composer’s lifetime; its first performance was in 1989, in the era of glasnost′.

As in 1936, former colleagues and friends queued up to denounce him. This time Shostakovich felt compelled to join in, and he ritually abased himself, following the example of the poetess Anna Akhmatova two years earlier. His speech of contrition was probably written by Leo Arnshtam. He still had some tried and tested coping strategies – including card games, alcohol, cigarettes, chess, and watching football – but to his few loyal friends he complained of rapid aging. He was again faced with acute material difficulty, having been dismissed from his teaching posts and with his music effectively having been placed on a blacklist. After completing the Violin Concerto he wrote scores for a number of films, some of them involving the obligatory hailing of Stalin as military genius and hero (Encounter at the Elbe, The Fall of Berlin, The Unforgettable Year 1919). These brought him much needed income. In 1947, before the Zhdanov inquisition, he had offered only a tokenist cantata for the 30th anniversary of the Revolution – Poėma o rodine (‘Poem of the Motherland’) op.74, consisting largely of arrangements of others’ music. Now he composed full-blown vocal and choral works to unimpeachable texts by the conformist poet Yevgeny Dolmatovsky. The oratorio Pesn′ o lesakh (‘The Song of the Forests’) eulogized Stalin’s ill-fated campaign for reafforestation (the references of Stalin were expunged in later editions of the score). This won him a Stalin Prize and 100,000 rubles (the entire production costs of Muradeli’s The Great Friendship had been reckoned unusually lavish at 600,000 rubles). This was followed by the cantata Nad rodinoy nashey solntse svetit (‘The Sun Shines over our Motherland’). Similar strategies of appeasement were probably behind the Ten Poems (on texts by Revolutionary poets) and Two Russian Folksong Arrangements for unaccompanied chorus. However little effort Shostakovich may have expended on these works, his technique was such that they stand up as respectable compositions, and they were well received in the Soviet Union. The first of the op.86 Dolmatovsky songs (1950–51) was used as a signature tune on Soviet news broadcasts and was sung by Yury Gagarin on the first manned space-flight in 1961. Shostakovich continued to set Dolmatovsky’s banal patriotic verses as late as the 1970 male-voice cycle Vernost′ (‘Loyalty’) for the Lenin centenary celebrations.

Meanwhile his more serious works joined the Violin Concerto ‘in the drawer’. These included the Fourth String Quartet, which occupied him for much of 1949, the Fifth Quartet and a second cycle of Pushkin romances (both in 1952). More ambiguous was the case of the song-cycle Iz yevreyskoy narodnoy poėziy (‘From Jewish Folk Poetry’) of 1948. Although an anti-Semitic campaign was well under way in the Soviet Union, official policy statements asserted the contrary, and Shostakovich may well have been trying to have it both ways – composing a piece which fulfilled official desiderata for folkloristic composition, yet speaking obliquely of solidarity with oppressed communities. When the penultimate song proclaims ‘I am happy on my kolkhoz’, for instance, the character of the music seems to assert the exact opposite. This putative subtext came strongly to the fore when the selective persecution of Soviet Jewry became more open from early 1949. This was another work that could not be publicly performed at the time, although it was heard in private.

A major role in Shostakovich’s post-1948 rehabilitation was played by his duties as part of various delegations to international congresses, in which he was a mouthpiece for the supposed humanitarian progressiveness of the post-war Soviet Union. After a personal phone call during which Stalin promised to ensure his music was not blacklisted, Shostakovich was sent in March 1949 to a Peace Conference in New York, where he had to endure being forced to voice agreement with the constrictions of the Soviet system. His reward for this charade was a State dacha in Bolshevo. He went on similar missions to Vienna in December 1952 and June 1953. His membership of a Soviet delegation in summer 1950 to East Germany to take part in the Bach bicentenary celebrations bore significant creative fruit. Between October 1950 and February 1951, he composed a cycle of 24 Preludes and Fugues for piano. Even this had to run the gauntlet of hostile criticism at the Composers’ Union. Similarly, the Tenth Symphony, which develops musical implications from the Preludes and Fugues and on which he worked mainly in the summer of 1953, would be the subject of four days of official deliberation in March–April 1954. By this time, however, following the death of Stalin on 5 March 1953, the artistic climate was discernibly beginning to relax, and voices openly supporting Shostakovich’s creative stance were heard again.

(ii) Works.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

As early as the Second Symphony, with its confrontation of avant-garde and mass song styles, a phenomenon known to Russians as ‘the two Shostakoviches’ had been apparent. The ‘real’ Shostakovich would remain an altogether elusive concept, by no means tied to stylistic uniformity or ideological one-sidedness. The ‘official’ Shostakovich had to be mindful of expectations from above, without wholly selling out. The dichotomy between these musical personas increased markedly after 1936.

At the official extreme stands a 1937 orchestration of the ‘Internationale’ which the Soviet Union adopted as a national anthem between 1917 and 1944. Then came wartime arrangements for performances at the battlefront, a Solemn March for Military Band, and arrangements of Russian, English, American and Greek folksongs. Patriotism, both voluntary and enforced, dictated a new emphasis on choral works, none of which now remain in the repertory (opp.63, 66, 72, 74). Shostakovich’s music for another dozen or so films in these years is of little intrinsic interest, though on occasion it helped him discover useful material for later ‘serious’ use; parts of The Fall of Berlin are taken up in the Tenth Symphony, for instance.

At the other extreme were works where his private thoughts were close to the surface, such as the Four Pushkin Romances, op.46 and the Six Romances to Words by English Poets, op.62. The latter cycle includes a setting of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 66, whose original contains the suggestive line ‘And art made tongue-tied by authority’. Although this sentiment is disguised in Pasternak’s translation it was almost certainly known to the composer and to the song’s dedicatee, Sollertinsky. From the time of the two completed operas, Shostakovich had a convenient excuse for what might otherwise be interpreted as anti-Soviet critical social comment; he could pass it off as referring either to Tsarist Russia or to an external enemy such as capitalism or fascism. This applied equally to the cycle From Jewish Folk Poetry. Whatever the ideological force may be of the Jewish themes found here and in the Second Piano Trio, the Fourth Quartet and First Violin Concerto, they are fitted without incongruity into a language already saturated in expressive ambiguity and characterized by modal alterations (especially flattened seconds, fifths, sevenths and octaves, and fourths both flattened and raised).

The First Violin Concerto is in several respects a parallel work to the Fourth Symphony. Both summarize Shostakovich’s compositional explorations over the preceding decade without detectable aesthetic compromise; in both cases work on the Finale was interrupted by a cultural purge; in both the première was long delayed because of that purge. The Concerto’s many structural and idiomatic similarities to Britten’s Violin Concerto of 1938–9 may be coincidental (Britten knew Shostakovich’s music from the mid-1930s; but there is no evidence for Shostakovich having encountered Britten’s before their first meeting in 1960). The Nocturne first movement is repressed in tone, allowing the devilishly driven Scherzo to unfold at imposing length, followed by a shock-absorbing Passacaglia and a massive Cadenza accumulating dramatic tension towards the Finale. The range and complexity of mood makes this work at least as worthy the title of Symphony-Concerto as Prokofiev’s 1950–52 reworking of his Cello Concerto which carries that designation.

Part of the reason for the Violin Concerto’s highly concentrated invention may rest with Shostakovich’s experience of chamber composition in the preceding years. The gradual introduction of chamber music into his oeuvre opened up a field in which he could compose with maximum seriousness and minimum external pressure. The string quartets in particular are arenas for concentrated musical thought, exemplified in the habitual cyclic recalls in the Finales, which feed back into several later symphonies. This development, however, is by no means entirely a retreat into ‘pure’ music. The artless C major which frames the outer movements of the First Quartet is as suggestive of rebirth as anything in the Fifth Symphony, and Shostakovich himself claimed that the work was associated with images of spring; it also established a tone of watchful neutrality which was new in his music. The movements of the Second Quartet carry the generic titles Overture, Recitative and Romance, Waltz, Theme and Variations. According to members of the Borodin Quartet, the five movements of the imposing Third Quartet once carried programmatic subtitles connected with World War II. The Fourth contains a prominent Jewish dance theme. The Fifth has thought-provoking quotations from Ustvol′skaya’s Trio for clarinet, violin and piano; the hard-edged intransigence and severe economy of means of this work is also emulated. Virtually every one of the Quartets has at least one prominent muted passage, often in the scherzo, suggestive of the appearance of an especially intimate tone of voice.

Until 1945, the public voice was mainly embodied in epic symphonies. The fourth to ninth symphonies appeared at roughly two-year intervals from 1936–45; the Tenth Symphony followed after a gap of eight years. All these have won a firm place in the repertory, and together they might be taken as evidence for the paradox that the greatest music can be written under the greatest political pressure.

As propounded by the apparatchiks of the Composers’ Union from 1934 on, the doctrine of Socialist Realism presented composers with the task of representing contemporary reality in a musical language comprehensible to ‘the People’. Shostakovich found a remarkable solution to this conundrum. His intention apropos the Tenth Symphony was ‘to convey human emotions and passions’. This apparently anodyne phrase carries extraordinary implications in the heyday of Stalinism. Obeying it to the letter meant, in effect, providing an outlet for mass emotional needs – to mourn and to commemorate – which were too dangerous to vent in words or through any other art form.

The nature of instrumental music offered some protection: although the nature of the real-life causes of such emotions might be hinted at in inter-textual references for those in the know, they could never be incriminatingly specified. At the same time those emotions were refracted through Shostakovich’s long-established mastery of satire and the grotesque, which were no longer admissible tones of voice in a theatrical context but which were certainly compatible with his friend Sollertinsky’s theories of the ‘Shakespearean’ symphony. The result was that the boundary between genuine and ironic statement would always be open to debate. In all this, Shostakovich drew on the formidable resources of his training, his previous compositional experience and his teaching activity, creating musical structures more highly integrated than any he had previously attempted.

Where the Fourth Symphony relied heavily on thematic transformation and cinematographic (dis)continuity, with tonal and formal features providing a relatively passive framework, symphonies five to ten maintain a more traditional balance between these elements, especially in the four-movement cycles of the Fifth, Seventh and Tenth. Their first movements are all masterly examples of large-scale tonal and modal construction, to which the Tenth adds a particularly skilful handling of transitional passages and interdependent structural idiosyncrasies. Their finales share an apparent triumphalism, complicated in the case of the Fifth by allusions to the first Pushkin Romance, and in the Tenth by disturbing disjunctions of mood which open the way for reference back to the oppressive second movement, countered in turn by the composer’s musical signature (D–S–C–H = D–E♭–C–B). This signature appears overtly for the first time in Shostakovich’s music in the third movement of the Tenth Symphony, alongside an encrypted version of the first name of Elmira Nazirova, pupil, confidante and object of affection at the time of composition. Such covert allusions increase in frequency in his late works. In some cases, their function is fairly explicit; in others it is a moot point whether the allusion is pointing at a significant level of concrete meaning or whether it is serving as a means to a musically articulated sense of mystery.

The sixth and eighth symphonies evolve their symphonic dramas from deliberately unbalanced movement-schemes. The three-movement Sixth appears to lack a first movement altogether. It starts with an ABA slow movement in declamatory Bachian contrapuntal style and virtually goes into hibernation in its middle section; the following movements are a spectral scherzo and a manic galop. The opening movement of the five-movement Eighth Symphony reaches a frightening climax early in its development section, which it sustains and surpasses to awesome effect before collapsing into a mournful cor anglais recitative at the recapitulation. There follow two brutal scherzos, a mournful passacaglia slow movement and a shell-shocked C major Finale, whose striving for and failure to achieve straightforward jollity is its most disconcerting yet moving aspect. The exhausted coda allows the merest glimmer of hope. This mood was adumbrated in the Piano Quintet and was soon to feature powerfully again in the Third String Quartet.

The fourth, seventh and eighth symphonies all work with the C minor/C major frame established in Beethoven’s Fifth. The Fourth, nominally in C minor, has a double coda, proposing a C major apotheosis but negating it with C minor tragedy. The ‘Leningrad’ uses the major/minor opposition both structurally and emblematically. The initial C major seems to symbolize the heroism of the Russian people, in a striding theme closely related to Shostakovich’s ‘Oath to the People’s Commissar’. Some 15 minutes later this theme is recapitulated in the tonic minor, as a kind of requiem, after the notorious prolonged ‘Invasion’ episode (never so called by the composer) that substitutes for the development section. The finale works its way from C minor back to a C major of terrifying balanced tensions, conveying inner resistance all the more powerfully for leaving the political colours of the oppressive force to the imagination. The Eighth Symphony, nominally a C minor work, bases its entire Finale in C major, but employs apparently inconsequential anti-heroic material, as though simultaneously questioning the Beethovenian archetype it invokes.

In its time Shostakovich’s Ninth Symphony was perceived as referring back to Haydn rather than to Beethoven. Certainly it sidestepped the role of crowning glory of a ‘War Trilogy’ (symphonies seven to nine) which many expected it to fulfil. The rough playfulness of its first and third movements shows this clearly enough. Yet its darkness, especially when the Finale frog-marches its polka-like main theme into forced celebration, should not be underestimated. Russian commentators were quicker to detect this subtext than were their counterparts in the West, who for the most part found the symphony simply lightweight.

Shostakovich habitually turned to contrapuntal composition when he experienced a creative block (as for instance in mid-1934). Part of his rehabilitation strategy after his fall from grace in 1936 had a Bachian aspect, evident in three of the five movements of the Piano Quintet and the opening movement of the Sixth Symphony. With the cycle of 24 Preludes and Fugues for piano of 1950–51 he confirmed his second return to creative life in the most monumental of his Bachian homages. As with the First String Quartet, the purity of the C major Prelude and Fugue suggests a tabula rasa, a new beginning from untainted sources. Like the Third Symphony, this work quarries out all sorts of musical gestures and motifs which would sustain him in his following works, most notably a ubiquitous 1–5–6–5 melodic shape, which he may have subconsciously remembered from Glazunov’s Seventh Symphony, which he had prefigured in Song of the Forests, and which he went on to use in the Ten Poems for unaccompanied chorus, the Pushkin Monologues, and the Finale of the Tenth Symphony. The last Prelude and Fugue, in D minor, not only makes an impressively defiant culmination to the cycle; it also adumbrates motifs and textures crucial to the first movement of the symphony.

4. 1953–62.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

(i) Life.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

The post-Stalin era in Russian history up to the accession of Leonid Brezhnev in 1964 is usually characterized after the title of Ilya Ehrenburg’s 1954 novel as the ‘Thaw’. During this period, extreme social and cultural oppression slowly gave way to more normal conditions, albeit within the framework of continued political conformism. In February 1956 Nikita Khrushchyov, who had emerged with effective power early the previous year, made a famous ‘secret’ speech denouncing Stalin. The outward signs of Shostakovich’s life suggest that he shared in some of the benefits of the Thaw. Most of his previously withheld or banned works were performed. The Fifth String Quartet was first performed in November 1953 and the Fourth Quartet a month later, soon to be followed by the new Tenth Symphony. The Violin Concerto and the song cycle From Jewish Folk Poetry had to wait until 1955, the Fourth Symphony until 1961 and the revised Lady Macbeth until 1963. On 28 May 1958, the 1948 anti-formalism decree was partially rescinded. Shostakovich was increasingly garlanded with honours at home and abroad. In August 1954 he was made People’s Artist of the USSR, and in September 1956 he received the Order of Lenin. Numerous international awards, mainly honorary doctorates and membership of academies, came his way in this period.

Along with tentative de-Stalinization came renewed contact with artists from the West. The First Tchaikovsky International Competition, held in Moscow in 1958, of which Shostakovich was president, was symptomatic, and it was followed by highly publicized visits by composers from America and elsewhere, culminating in that of Stravinsky in 1962. Shostakovich himself travelled widely, making his first visit to England in June 1958 and his second visit to the United States in November 1959. During his second visit to England, in 1960, he began what was to be a significant artistic friendship with Britten.

The price for the Soviet Union’s tentative liberalization, however, was to be increased adherence to the Party line; Khrushchyov sought every opportunity to bolster his never-solid political position with support from prominent members of the intelligentsia. Shostakovich’s capacity for resistance was by now greatly reduced and his yearning for a peaceful working environment all the greater. He accepted all manner of official posts and duties. He was on the committee for the Glinka centenary in 1957 and contributed three variations to a collective set with seven other composers. In the same year, he was voted secretary of the Union of Composers of the USSR (as the Union of Soviet Composers had just been renamed). He took part in regional musical organizations in L′viv, Sverdlovsk and Azerbaijan; in April 1960, he became First Secretary of the Composers’ Union of the RSFSR.

In the mid-1950s he appears to have been striving to compose more straightforward and cheerful music, as in the Sixth String Quartet, the tuneful film score to Ovod (‘The Gadfly’), the Concertino for Two Pianos and the Second Piano Concerto (both for his aspiring concert-pianist son Maxim), and the operetta Moskva, Cheryomushki (‘Moscow, Cheryomushki’). Far from cheerful, but presenting a façade of conformity, were his Eleventh and Twelfth Symphonies (1957, 1961), commemorating the Tsarist ‘Bloody Sunday’ atrocity of 1905 and the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917 respectively.

In reality, Shostakovich’s artistic freedom was still severely limited. In 1956, he attended an unsuccessful re-auditioning of Lady Macbeth, at which Kabalevsky and others impressed on him the continued validity of the 1936 Pravda criticisms. His scorn for the continued philistinism on display at the second Composers’ Union Congress in March/April 1957 was expressed in the satirical cantata Rayok, which he had begun after the 1948 denunciations and to which he added through the 1960s.

His personal life was far from happy. On 4 December 1954 his wife died unexpectedly of cancer, leaving him more vulnerable than before to outside pressures. His distress increased when his mother died in November 1955. His proposal of marriage to his former pupil Galina Ustvol′skaya was turned down, and he eventually married Margarita Kaynova, a worker at the Komsomol (Communist Youth League) in July 1956. For reasons not entirely clarified, the relationship proved unviable and the marriage ended in divorce in August 1959. Shostakovich again proposed to Ustvol′skaya who again turned him down.

Early signs of physical decline were by now becoming evident. Since the war he had had attacks of diphtheria, angina and inflammation of the lungs. In 1958 he began to experience symptoms of what was eventually diagnosed as a form of polio. In August–September 1958 he underwent his first hospital treatment for the condition. Initially his right hand was affected, leading to severe difficulties in piano playing, which he first experienced when he had to perform and record his two Piano Concertos in Paris. He had been recording a number of his works since the late 1940s, and it is ironic that just as recording technology was making huge advances his health prevented him from capitalizing on them. In 1960 and 1967 he suffered leg fractures as a result of falls. The increasing tendency of his late works to reflect on the career of the artist may have much to do with enforced inactivity during his ever more frequent stays in hospital.

Shostakovich was physically ailing and without domestic support when he came under intense pressure to join the Communist Party in 1960. He yielded, and his membership was confirmed in stages over the next two years, but he experienced acute feelings of shame. Against this background, he composed his Eighth String Quartet, reportedly as a kind of obituary for himself, incorporating quotations from and allusions to some of his most fateful works.

He now had to make the best of a bad job as a confirmed establishment figure, trying to hold to his ideals and to be a force for good without jeopardizing his position within the system. He was relatively free to compose and able to exert some beneficial influence, not least as a teacher. He resumed his teaching duties at the Leningrad Conservatory in December 1961 with a class of postgraduate students, of whom his favourite was Boris Tishchenko. Given his personal circumstances it is difficult to see how he could have adopted a more confrontational political stance. However, his refusal to oppose officialdom openly exposed him to the contempt of some of the younger generation who were, in any case, caught up in the excitement of discovering progressive musical trends from the West and therefore increasingly inclined to look on him as an anachronism.

His Party membership seems to have been part of a complex quid pro quo with authority. He had already been fulfilling an increasing number of official duties. Now he finally produced the ‘Lenin’ Symphony he had been promising since the 1930s (the Twelfth, subtitled ‘The Year 1917’), and he allowed his name to be used for all sorts of Party propaganda declarations, sometimes reading speeches others had written for him, sometimes having articles and letters published under his name but written by friends or functionaries. In return for this, he was allowed performances of the banned Fourth Symphony (30 December 1961) and of Lady Macbeth, which he revised as Katerina Izmaylova (8 January 1963). The first performance of the Fourth Symphony took place 25 years after its aborted première. The score, which had been lost in the war, had to be reconstructed from the orchestral parts. According to its conductor, Kirill Kondrashin, not a note was changed, and the performance was an overwhelming success, as was the Western première the following September at the Edinburgh Festival under Gennady Rozhdestvensky, with the composer present. Along with his Thirteenth Symphony (‘Babiy Yar’, 1962) the Fourth reminded Russians of the ‘real’ Shostakovich, and it opened the way for new developments in the Soviet symphony: Vaynberg [Weinberg], Shchedrin, Kancheli, Salmanov and later Schnittke and others, all responded.

Excoriating Russia’s social evils under the flimsiest of allegorical disguises, the Thirteenth Symphony again strained his relationship with officialdom, and the première on 18 December 1962 was nearly sabotaged by official pressure. This was the last of Shostakovich’s major brushes with authority, however.

In 1960 he had met the young literary editor Irina Antonovna Supinskaya, and after she had obtained a divorce he married her in November 1962, the same month in which he made his only public appearance as conductor, in his First Cello Concerto and Festive Overture. At a time of steadily deteriorating health his third marriage provided him with invaluable support, and Irina continued to devote herself to his music after his death, preserving a family archive in the house in Moscow’s Nezhdanova Street where she and Shostakovich lived from April 1962.

(ii) Works

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

By 1961 the phenomenon of ‘The Two Shostakoviches’ had become so familiar it was the subject of an article in Time magazine. The reference was prompted by the recently completed Twelfth Symphony, ‘the most banal of his works to date’, but the supposed split personality was dated to 1948. The article provoked disclaimers from the composer and from Soviet musicologists, but in reality its concept was not so much misguided as insufficiently subtle. Certainly, there were works such as the Twelfth Symphony whose political conformism was almost devoid of discernible subtext and whose artistic value is now generally considered to be minimal, suggesting as near disdain for the task on the composer’s part as he could risk. Yet, other ‘official’ or trivial-seeming works may reflect a genuine need to alternate between works of highly passionate or tragic content and ones that could be tossed off in a relatively light-hearted way. In fact, some of the lighter works composed in the wake of the Tenth Symphony, for instance the Festive Overture and the ‘National Holiday’ movement from The Gadfly, though of scant intrinsic interest, help throw into relief the often overlooked complexities of the symphony’s finale. Immediately after the Tenth Symphony Shostakovich composed an undemanding Concertino for two pianos for his son Maxim, followed three years later by the Second Piano Concerto which he considered of little artistic worth but which nevertheless has a deeply felt slow movement. In between came more Dolmatovsky Romances, the Spanish Songs and the deceptively innocent Sixth Quartet – deceptive because the naive G major of the opening keeps slipping from view, to be reinstated as if nothing had happened.

7. Dmitry Shostakovich with his son Maxim

Camera Press Ltd, London / photo Novosti (London)

Shostakovich’s interest in light music culminated in the opera-comedy Moscow, Cheryomushki, composed in 1957–8. This gentle send-up of urban mores on a newly built overspill housing estate was the belated fulfilment of plans to compose an operetta, plans he had cherished since the early 1930s. Its numerous cross-references to earlier scores might conceivably suggest a hidden commentary on the machinations of officialdom, but, on the whole, its succession of easy-going waltzes and innocuous polkas, most of them marked allegretto, represents a considerable dilution from the heyday of his stage music in the early 1930s.

For his 50th birthday in September 1956, Shostakovich published an article in Sovetskaya muzïka reflecting on his career. Its mixture of straight fact and evasive generalization is symptomatic of the position of Soviet artists in the Thaw years. Even the seemingly conformist clichés invite reading between the lines. After mentioning his ‘naive attempts to reflect “real life”’ in his earliest piano pieces, he continued: ‘the same desire to write pithy music, reflecting the experiences of my contemporaries, runs through everything I have written’. If Lady Macbeth, the Fourth Symphony, the Six Romances op.62, From Jewish Folk Poetry and works to come such as the song cycle Satires of 1960 and the Thirteenth Symphony of 1962 are indeed intended to reflect the ‘real life’ experiences of his contemporaries, they must be counted as profoundly subversive.

The Eleventh Symphony was composed for the 40th Anniversary of the October Revolution and programmatically represented the 1905 Bloody Sunday Massacre; yet appearing as it did in October 1957, its message concerning the abuse of dictatorial power invited aesopian reading as a comment on the Soviet repression of the Hungarian uprising. Although Shostakovich himself later encouraged this interpretation, the publication of his intent to write such a symphony had actually preceded the Soviet invasion of October 1956, and the programmatic scenario is extremely closely wedded to the events of 1905 – unimpeachable subject matter for a good communist.

Since the Tenth Symphony, the death of Nina and the difficulties of his second marriage, Shostakovich had been in something of a creative trough, and despite his careful integration of a dozen revolutionary songs in the Eleventh Symphony, this work remains a crudely constructed tapestry compared with its predecessor. It was not until the summer of 1959 that he produced a work to match the concentration and complexity of the Tenth. This was the First Cello Concerto, composed for Rostropovich. Here pithy motifs, pared-down textures and obstinate forward motion are grafted on to familiar Shostakovichian gestural archetypes, establishing a lexicon of devices for his late instrumental works. Fiercely intense invention is equally a feature of the Seventh String Quartet, dedicated to the memory of Nina. Here, metrical transformations, motivic economy and cyclic recalls all feature in greater concentration than ever before.

The array of song quotations in the Eleventh Symphony prepared the way for the self-quotations in the Eighth Quartet, including the ubiquitous D–S–C–H. This piece became inordinately famous, inspiring transcriptions for various media, especially string orchestra, sanctioned by the composer. Every one of its quoted themes acquires either a sadder or a more violent character than it had in its source-work. The moment of most heart-stopping plangency comes in the fourth movement when Shostakovich quotes Katerina’s aria of longing for her lover from the fourth act of Lady Macbeth, mirroring the composer’s own personal loneliness at a time of intense need.

Patriotic film scores and other commissioned work continued to occupy Shostakovich, but to an ever-decreasing extent. The Twelfth Symphony represents an unhappy infiltration of that official manner into the main oeuvre. The naivety of its programme, structure and thematic invention lends weight to claims that the composition had to be quickly thrown together after the abandonment of an earlier, possibly rashly satirical project. As in the Eleventh Symphony, there are four continuous movements, but instead of a kind of newsreel commentary, the music unfolds as a series of static tableaux or reflections; the first movement is more academically conformist than anything in Shostakovich’s symphonic output, as is the thoroughgoing cyclic unity between movements.

As if to cleanse himself of this apparent act of appeasement, Shostakovich ensured that his next two projects – the Thirteenth Symphony and the already largely completed revised version of Lady Macbeth – would be as near as possible to the real thing. In the Thirteenth Symphony, Yevgeny Yevtushenko’s poems pointed to egregious social ills in Soviet Russia, from anti-semitism through the suppression of humour, oppression of women, and the climate of fear, to the dilemma of maintaining integrity in an artistic career.

Katerina Izmaylova, as he entitled the revised version of Lady Macbeth, is a source of ongoing controversy. Shostakovich’s revisions, involving two re-composed interludes, confirmation of the trimmed version of the notorious seduction scene (it had already been cut for the 1935 publication of the score), and a large number of rewordings and vocal transpositions, were carried out for a mixture of motives. Some were practical considerations, reflecting the experience of staging the opera in the 1930s. Others, such as the toning down of sexual imagery and the addition of an ideological element to the prisoners’ music in Act 4, may have been a compromise with the criticisms of the 1936 article, or may reflect the composer’s own preferred shift of emphasis.

5. 1963–75.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

(i) Life.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

The première of Katerina Izmaylova took place on 8 January 1963, two months after the appearance of Solzhenitsyn’s One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, a story of life in a Kazakhstan prison camp in the last years of Stalin’s rule. Approved by Khrushchyov, this publication represented a high-water mark of de-Stalinization in the arts. But a backlash against Soviet authors soon followed and the climate of gradual liberalization itself came under increasing threat when Khrushchyov was ousted and replaced by Leonid Brezhnev in October 1964. The invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968 and the increasing profile of the dissident movement intensified the reactionary pressure; Shostakovich put his name to political documents such as the condemnation of the nuclear physicist turned human-rights campaigner, Andrey Sakharov, on 3 September 1973. If his distaste for such things was not always perceptible to those who looked to him for moral example, that may indicate the effectiveness of the pretence. His music came close to contradicting his actions, as in the setting ‘To the Exile’ from the Michelangelo Suite, composed in 1974 immediately after Solzhenitsyn’s enforced move to the West.

Shostakovich’s declining health made a more openly defiant stance hardly possible. His hand weakness worsened and he gave his last performance as pianist on 28 May 1966, suffering a heart attack later that night. The polio-related condition responded to treatment at an orthopaedic clinic in Kurgan in 1970 and 1971 and deterioration was partially arrested. Shortly after completing his Fifteenth Symphony, on 17 September 1971, he had a second heart attack. This forced him to give up smoking, but for the last two and a half years of his life he suffered from lung cancer, which spread to the kidneys and liver and eventually to the artery between heart and lungs.

Outwardly, his career was again marked by steadily increasing recognition and success. He continued to travel extensively within the Soviet Union and abroad, especially for the numerous premières of Katerina Izmaylova, meeting composers and collecting honours. Coinciding with his 60th birthday in September 1966, he was made Hero of Socialist Labour and received a second Order of Lenin as well as the Gold Medal of the Hammer and Sickle. Earlier that year a collected edition of his music was mooted (a rare honour for any composer in his lifetime), and he composed a sardonic Preface to the Complete Edition of my Works and a Brief Reflection apropos of this Preface, the title mimicking verbose Russian officialese. His own text for this song remarks ironically but accurately on his title of ‘People’s Artist of the USSR’ (conferred in 1954), his ‘many other honorary titles’, his position as First Secretary of the Composers’ Union of the RSFSR (since 1960) and ordinary Secretary of the Composers’ Union of the USSR (since 1957) and ‘very many other highly responsible duties’.

With Rostropovich, Oistrakh, Richter, and conductors Mravinsky and Kondrashin in the forefront, his works were now performed and recorded with increasing regularity. In February 1964, the town of Gor′kiy mounted a festival with 43 concerts of his music. Seemingly encouraged, Shostakovich came out of a comparatively fallow creative period since the Thirteenth Symphony and produced the Ninth and Tenth Quartets in quick succession (a previous Ninth Quartet composed in 1961 was destroyed), followed by the Yevtushenko cantata Kazn′ Stepana Razina (‘The Execution of Stepan Razin’).

Inwardly his thoughts and creative projects turned increasingly to the topic of death; at the same time he became interested in 12-note composition, still the subject of official disapproval. In this he was inspired by the example of Britten, whose The Turn of the Screw he had seen in Edinburgh in 1962, and by his own pupils. In May 1965 he got to know Karayev’s Third Symphony and in the following year Tishchenko’s Third Symphony. In 1968 he himself built his Twelfth Quartet around 12-note themes, and such themes also appear in the Violin Sonata, Thirteenth Quartet and Fourteenth and Fifteenth Symphonies. He never applied the technique in the manner of the Second Viennese School; rather, themes of this kind took on symbolic associations with death or stasis.

From the Second Cello Concerto of 1966, each of Shostakovich’s last ten years with the exception of 1972 saw at least one major composition. The Second Violin Concerto was composed in 1967 for Oistrakh, and in the following year the Violin Sonata (also for Oistrakh) and 12th Quartet. In 1969 came the 14th Symphony, a vocal symphony consisting of 11 settings on the subject of death, in 1970 the 13th String Quartet, which catches much the same mood, and in 1971 the enigmatic 15th Symphony. His second heart attack just after completion of this symphony put a temporary halt to his output, and he spent the remainder of that year in hospital and sanatorium. 1972 was a year of travel, to East and West Germany in May and June, to London and Dublin in July, returning via Copenhagen, and a further visit to England in November before another extended stay in hospital. 1973 saw return trips to Berlin and Copenhagen and the USA (chiefly Chicago), around which Shostakovich fitted the Fourteenth Quartet and the Tsvetayeva settings op.143. In 1974 he produced the 15th Quartet and Michelangelo Suite, whose orchestrated version, completed later in the year, is tantamount to a Sixteenth Symphony. Also this year The Nose was finally restaged in Russia, the last of his effectively banned works to be rehabilitated. The Moscow production was masterminded and conducted by Gennady Rozhdestvensky, marking the advent of a new generation of musicians committed to his music. By now, Maxim Shostakovich was conducting extensively, and Rozhdestvensky himself was unearthing and recording numerous obscure and almost forgotten works. In 1975 Shostakovich orchestrated Musorgsky’s ‘Song of the Flea’ and composed his Viola Sonata, for which he was reading proofs only days before his death on the evening of 9 August 1975 in hospital at Kuntsevo. He was buried five days later in the Novodevichy Cemetery.

(ii) Works.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

The musical trends established over the previous decade continued, the only significant new features being exploration of 12-note themes. That there was no fundamental evolution in Shostakovich’s style is suggested by the fact that his last major work, the Viola Sonata, could quote extensively from the overture to his unfinished opera The Gambler of 1941–2, without any stylistic discrepancy being apparent. By the same token the Violin Sonata of 1968 owes much to the example of Prokofiev’s First Violin Sonata of 1938–46, both in its gestural character and its layout of movements.

In these years, very few ‘official’ works were demanded of him, and in those that were it is increasingly tempting to read subtexts and in-jokes. Oktyabr′ (‘October’), his symphonic poem for the 50th anniversary of the Revolution, feels like no more than a grudging discharge of duty, for instance, and the March of the Soviet Militia is reputedly dedicated to the memory of Zoshchenko, himself a one-time Red Army officer but best known as a trenchant satirist. Shostakovich did agree to undertake two film scores of more or less official stamp for friends (Leo Arnshtam’s Sof′ya Perovskaya on the life of an activist associated with the assassination of Tsar Aleksandr II, and A Year is Like a Lifetime to Galina Serebryakova’s scenario on the life of Marx). But he took considerably more seriously his work on Grigory Kozintsev’s Hamlet and King Lear, producing music of a starkness of texture to match the ascetic qualities of the cinematography.

The symphonic impulse continued to shift away from symphonies to quartets (especially Nos.9, 10 and 12), concertos, sonatas and song cycles. The Second Cello Concerto, Second Violin Concerto and Violin and Viola Sonatas have much in common, in particular a sense of familiar territory being traversed but in a wan, alienated manner, as though experienced by a lost soul. Moments of tonal clarification register increasingly as out-of-body experiences, and they are surrounded by paroxysms of pain, inscrutable soliloquies and ghostly revisitings of the past. Themes containing eleven or all twelve notes of the scale are contrasted with blank oscillating perfect fourths which often conclude movements in anxious stasis. To all this the finale of the Viola Sonata adds an extremely dark-hued tribute to Beethoven, brooding on the affinity between the repeated-note motif of the first movement of the ‘Moonlight’ Sonata and Shostakovich’s own favourite dotted-rhythm funeral march gestures. This world of purgatorial numbness was passed on to the following generation of Schnittke and others.

Quartets 11 to 14 were dedicated to each member of the Beethoven Quartet in turn, in recognition of a partnership of more than 30 years’ standing; the Fifteenth Quartet bears no dedication but could easily be read as a requiem for the composer himself. Quartets 13 and 15 in particular abound in stark musical imagery, while the Fifteenth echoes the black humour of the early piano Aphorisms, with contorted re-interpretations of innocent-seeming movement titles such as Serenade and Nocturne.

The vocal works focus ever more intently on the subject matter of love, death, and the role of the artist (especially in the Blok cycle, the Fourteenth Symphony and the Tsvetayeva settings respectively). The last cycle, Four Verses of Captain Lebyadkin, from Dostoyevsky’s novel The Devils, ends Shostakovich’s vocal output on a note of sour vituperation. The importance he attached to the Tsvetayeva and Michelangelo cycles is reflected in the orchestral versions he made of them, and the same is indicated by his re-orchestrating the Six Romances, op.62. In general the importance he attached to texts in his later years is reflected in his renunciation of the title romansï (‘romances’): the Blok, Lebyadkin and Tsvetayeva cycles are dubbed stikhotvoreniya (‘poems’ or ‘verses’) while the proper full title for the Michelangelo settings is Syuita na slova Mikelangelo (‘Suite on Words of Michelangelo’). The instrumentation of the Blok verses, for violin, cello and piano, prepares the ground for the Fourteenth Symphony (soprano and bass soloists, strings and percussion), and, in general, the borderline between symphonic and vocal works is blurred at this time. The Fourteenth Symphony itself consists of eleven settings of poems, subtly arranged to suggest outrage at the imposition of death by human hand.

The Fifteenth Symphony is haunted by a legion of ghosts – subtle allusions to Shostakovich’s own past works and to musical styles that had influenced him. Paradoxically, these allusions make the overall tone of the work all the more difficult to define. The last pages gaze back over the past with unfathomable sadness, and the coda is probably the most desolate music ever to have been written in A major. The end of the Viola Sonata is no less poignant; it is yet another extraordinary reinterpretation of C major, with the rocking fourths so often associated with death in Shostakovich’s late work now suggesting a measure of calm and reconciliation.

6. Posthumous reputation.

  • David Fanning
  • David Fanning

25 years on, Shostakovich’s obituary notices make bizarre reading. Pravda, in an article with 85 signatories from the country’s political and musical élite, described him as ‘a true son of the Communist Party, outstanding public and state activist, an artist – citizen Shostakovich devoted his entire life to the development of Soviet music, to asserting the ideals of Soviet humanism and internationalism, the struggle for peace and friendship of nations’. The Times called him ‘a committed believer in Communism and Soviet power’; the New York Times referred to him as ‘a committed Communist who accepted sometimes harsh ideological criticism’. Suggestions to the contrary in books by émigrés such as Yury Jelagin and Yury Olkhovsky as early as the 1950s had been little heeded and were even dismissed as embodying biassed Cold War tactics.

For many years, serious scholars in the West had scarcely bothered with Shostakovich, being seemingly unable to hear past the surface conservatism of language, which Stravinsky, Adorno, Boulez and others equated with reactionary conformism and attributed to a combination of weak-mindedness and force majeure. The evaporation of avant-garde prejudices had already cleared the way for a more realistic assessment when Solomon Volkov’s Testimony: the Memoirs of Dmitry Shostakovich as Related to and Edited by Solomon Volkov made its sensational appearance in 1979. This presented a picture of Shostakovich’s profound disaffection with the communist system, stretching back at least to the mid-1930s. This book continues to be a source of controversy, mainly because it was shown to contain substantial passages – appearing on seven of the eight pages signed by Shostakovich – drawn almost verbatim from Shostakovich’s articles and speeches. The editor declined to explain how the situation might have come about or how it might be reconciled with the title of the book. Further doubt has been expressed as to whether Shostakovich, in so far as the book may contain his actual words and thoughts, might not have been reinventing his own past. Friends, family and musical associates of the composer expressed conflicting opinions on the book’s authenticity and the veracity of the opinions it contains, although a substantial and increasing majority have spoken in its favour. Accusations and counter-accusations have made the question of Shostakovich’s relationship with the Communist regime one of the most bitterly fought musicological controversies in the late 20th century. This issue has overshadowed efforts to understand the non-ideological dimensions of his music, to disentangle those aspects of the Soviet system he approved of from those he abominated and to identify when and how his attitudes changed. Scholarly interest in the music has gained new impetus, but at the expense of concentration on a vulgarized, mono-dimensional view of its meaning.

Unlike that of many composers, Shostakovich’s reputation with the musical public has grown steadily since his death, fuelled by post-glasnost′ revelations about the society in which he lived. By most conceivable measurements, he has become the most popular composer of serious art music in the middle years of the 20th century.

8. Dmitry Shostakovich

Novosti (London)

His influence on composers spread through the work of his most gifted pupils and protégés (Vaynberg, Boris Chaykovsky, Tishchenko) and kindred spirits abroad (such as Britten, who however, died only a year after him). Others in the Soviet Union emancipated themselves from his style but took up some of the deeper implications of his work, especially his fondness for mixing styles and tones of voice, his use of musical ciphers, his exploration of the no-man’s-land between dynamism and stasis and his compulsion to question the same things as he affirms. In these respects, Alfred Schnittke has the strongest claim to being the ‘true successor’, though the musical quality of his invention rarely reaches comparable heights. The doctrinaire rump of the Western avant garde never became reconciled to Shostakovich’s importance, although some who started in that camp have at least come to recognize the multi-faceted complexity of his music. On the other hand, natural conservatives in Russia, Scandinavia, Britain and the United States acknowledged the influence but generally failed to grasp the underlying complexities of tone. Those complexities could only have taken the shape they did under the unique coercions of Stalin’s Russia. As the most talented Soviet composer of his cursed generation Shostakovich was uniquely equipped to transcend those pressures, and as such his achievement is unrivalled.

Works

  • Laurel Fay
  • Laurel Fay

Operas and ballets

op.

15

Nos [The Nose] (op, 3, Shostakovich, A. Preys, G. Ionin and Ye. Zamyatin, after N.V. Gogol), 1927–8, Leningrad, Malïy, 18 Jan 1930

22

Zolotoy vek [The Golden Age] (ballet, 3, A. Ivanovsky), 1929–30, Leningrad, State Academic, 27 Oct 1930

27

Bolt [The Bolt] (ballet, 3, V. Smirnov), 1930–31, Leningrad, State Academic, 8 April 1931

Bol′shaya molniya [The Great Lightning] (comic op, N. Aseyev), ?1931–2, unfinished, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 11 Feb 1981

29

Lėdi Makbet Mtsenskogo uyezda [Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District] (op, 4, Shostakovich and Preys, after N. Leskov), 1930–32, Leningrad, Malïy, 22 Jan 1934; rev. as Katerina Izmaylova, op.114, 1955–63

39

Svetlïy ruchey [The Limpid Stream] (ballet, 3, F. Lopukhov and A. Pyotrovsky), 1934–5, Leningrad, Malïy, 4 June 1935

Igroki [The Gamblers] (op, after Gogol), 1941–2, unfinished, concert perf., Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 18 Sept 1978, staged Moscow, Chamber Musical Theatre, 24 Jan 1990; completed by K. Meyer (3), Wuppertal, Opernhaus, 12 June 1983

105

Moskva, Cheryomushki [Moscow, Cheryomushki] (operetta, 3, V. Mass and M. Chervinsky), 1957–8, Moscow, Operetta, 24 Jan 1959

114

Katerina Izmaylova, 1954–63, Moscow, Stanislavsky–Nemirovich-Danchenko Music Theatre, 8 Jan 1963 [rev. of op.29]

Other dramatic works

Incidental music

19

Klop [The Bedbug] (V. Mayakovsky), 1929, Moscow, Meyerhold, 13 Feb 1929

24

Vïstrel [The Shot] (A. Bezïmensky), 1929, Leningrad, Working Youth Theatre, 14 Dec 1929

25

Tselina [Virgin Soil] (A. Gorbenko and N. L′vov), 1930, lost, Leningrad, Working Youth Theatre, 9 May 1930

28

Prav′, Britaniya [Rule, Britannia] (A. Pyotrovsky), 1931, Leningrad, Working Youth Theatre, 9 May 1931

31

Uslovno ubitïy [Declared Dead] (stage revue, V. Voyevodin and Ye. Rïss), 1931, Leningrad, Music Hall, 2 Oct 1931

32

Gamlet [Hamlet] (W. Shakespeare), 1931–2, Moscow, Vakhtangov, 19 May 1932

37

Chelovecheskaya komediya [The Human Comedy] (P. Sukhotin, after H. de Balzac), 1933–4, Moscow, Vakhtangov, 1 April 1934

44

Salyut, Ispaniya [Hail, Spain] (A. Afinogenov), 1936, Leningrad, Pushkin Theatre of Drama, 23 Nov 1936

58a

Korol′ Lir [King Lear] (Shakespeare), 1941, Leningrad, Gor′ky Bol′shoy, 24 March 1941

63

Otchizna [Native Country] (spectacle), 1942, Moscow, Dzerzhinsky Central Club, 7 Nov 1942

66

Russkaya reka [Russian River] (spectacle), 1944, Moscow, Dzerzhinsky Central Club, 17 April 1944

72

Vesna pobednaya [Victorious Spring] (spectacle), 2 songs (M. Svetlov), 1946, Moscow, Dzerzhinsky Central Club, 8 May 1946

Gamlet [Hamlet] (Shakespeare), 1954, Leningrad, Pushkin Theatre of Drama, 31 March 1954 [from op.58a]

Film scores

18

Novïy Vavilon [New Babylon] (dir. G. Kozintsev and L. Trauberg), 1928–9 [for live perf. with silent film]

26

Odna [Alone] (dir. Kozintsev and Trauberg), 1930–31

30

Zlatïye gorï [Golden mountains] (dir. S. Yutkevich), 1931

33

Vstrechnïy [Counterplan] (dir. F. Ermler and Yutkevich), 1932

36

Skazka o pope i rabotnike yego Balde [The Tale of the Priest and his Worker, Blockhead] (dir. M. Tsekhanovsky), 1933–4, unfinished, rev. as comic op by S. Khentova, 1980

38

Lyubov′ i nenavist′ [Love and Hate] (dir. A. Gendel′shteyn), 1934

41

Yunost′ Maksima [The Youth of Maxim] (dir. Kozintsev and Trauberg), 1934 [no.1 of Maxim trilogy]

41a

Podrugi [Girl Friends] (dir. L. Arnshtam), 1934–5

45

Vozvrashcheniye Maksima [The Return of Maxim] (dir. Kozintsev and Trauberg), 1936–7 [no.2 of Maxim trilogy]

48

Volochayevskiye dni [Volochayev Days] (dir. G. and S. Vasil′yev), 1936–7

50

Vïborgskaya storona [Vïborg District] (dir. Kozintsev and Trauberg), 1938 [no.3 of Maxim trilogy]

51

Druz′ya [Friends] (dir. Arnshtam), 1938

52

Velikiy grazhdanin [The Great Citizen] (dir. Ermler), 1st ser., 1937

53

Chelovek s ruzh′yom [The Man with a Gun] (dir. Yutkevich), 1938

55

Velikiy grazhdanin [The Great Citizen] (dir. Ermler), 2nd ser., 1938–9

56

Glupïy mïshonok [The Silly Little Mouse] (dir. Tsekhanovsky), 1939

59

Priklyucheniya Korzinkinoy [The Adventures of Korzinkina] (dir. K. Mints), 1940–41

64

Zoya (dir. Arnshtam), 1944

71

Prostïye lyudi [Simple People] (dir. Kozintsev and Trauberg), 1945

75

Molodaya gvardiya [The Young Guard] (A.A. Fadeyev, dir. S. Gerasimov), 1947–8

76

Pirogov (dir. Kozintsev), 1947

78

Michurin (dir. A. Dovzhenko), 1948

80

Vstrecha na El′be [Encounter at the Elbe] (dir. G. Aleksandrov), 1948

82

Padeniye Berlina [The Fall of Berlin] (dir. M. Chiaureli), 1949

85

Belinsky (dir. Kozintsev), 1950

89

Nezabïvayemïy 1919-y [The Unforgettable Year 1919] (dir. Chiaureli), 1951

95

Pesnya velikikh rek (Yedinstvo) [Song of the Great Rivers/Unity] (dir. Y. Ivens), 1954

97

Ovod [The Gadfly] (E.L. Voynich, dir. A. Faintsimmer), 1955

99

Pervïy eshelon [The First Echelon] (dir. Faintsimmer), 1955–6

106

Khovanshchina, 1958–9 [orch of op by M. Musorgsky]: see orchestrations [Khovanshchina, 1958–9]

111

Pyat′ dney – pyat′ nochey [Five Days – Five Nights] (dir. Arnshtam), 1960

Cheryomushki (dir. G. Rappaport), 1962 [arr. of op.105]

116

Gamlet [Hamlet] (Shakespeare, trans. B. Pasternak, dir. Kozintsev), 1963–4

120

God, kak zhizn′ [A Year is Like a Lifetime] (dir. G. Roshal′), 1965

Katerina Izmaylova (dir. M. Shapiro), 1966 [arr. of op.114]

132

Sof′ya Perovskaya (dir. Arnshtam), 1967

137

Korol′ Lir [King Lear] (Shakespeare, dir. Kozintsev), 1970

Orchestral

Symphonies

10

Symphony no.1, f, 1924–5, Leningrad PO, cond. N. Malko, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 12 May 1926

14

Symphony no.2 ‘Oktyabryu’ [To October] (A. Bezïmensky), B, with chorus in finale, 1927, Leningrad PO and Academic Choir, cond. Malko, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 5 Nov 1927

20

Symphony no.3 ‘Pervomayskaya’ [The First of May] (S. Kirsanov), E♭, with chorus in finale, 1929, Leningrad PO and State Academic Choir, cond. A. Gauk, Leningrad, Moscow-Narva House of Culture, 21 Jan 1930

43

Symphony no.4, c, 1935–6, Moscow PO, cond. K. Kondrashin, Moscow, Conservatory Bol′shoy Hall, 30 Dec 1961

47

Symphony no.5, d, 1937, Leningrad PO, cond. Ye. Mravinsky, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 21 Nov 1937

54

Symphony no.6, b, 1939, Leningrad PO, cond. Mravinsky, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 21 Nov 1939

60

Symphony no.7 ‘Leningrad’, C, 1941, Bol′shoy Theatre Orch, cond. S. Samosud, Kuybïshev, House of Culture, 5 March 1942

65

Symphony no.8, c, 1943, USSR State SO, cond. Mravinsky, Moscow, Conservatory Bol′shoy Hall, 4 Nov 1943

70

Symphony no.9, E♭, 1945, Leningrad PO, cond. Mravinsky, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 3 Nov 1945

93

Symphony no.10, e, 1953, Leningrad PO, cond. Mravinsky, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 17 Dec 1953

103

Symphony no.11 ‘1905 god’ [The Year 1905], g, 1956–7, USSR State SO, cond. N. Rakhlin, Moscow, Conservatory Bol′shoy Hall, 30 Oct 1957

112

Symphony no.12 ‘1917 god’ [The Year 1917], d, 1959–61, Leningrad PO, cond. Mravinsky, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 1 Oct 1961 [ded. to the memory of Lenin]

113

Symphony no.13 ‘Babiy Yar’ (Ye. Yevtushenko), b♭, B, B chorus, orch, 1962, V. Gromadsky, Republican State and Gnesin Institute Choirs, Moscow PO, cond. Kondrashin, Moscow, Conservatory Bol′shoy Hall, 18 Dec 1962

135

Symphony no.14 (F.G. Lorca, G. Apollinaire, W. Küchelbecker, R.M. Rilke), S, B, str, perc, 1969, G. Vishnevskaya, Ye. Vladimirov, Moscow CO, cond. R. Barshay, Leningrad, Hall of the Glinka Academy Choir, 29 Sept 1969

141

Symphony no.15, A, 1971, All-Union Radio and Television SO, cond. M. Shostakovich, Moscow, Conservatory Bol′shoy Hall, 8 Jan 1972

Other

1

Scherzo, f♯, 1919

3

Theme and Variations, B♭, 1921–2

7

Scherzo, E♭, 1923–4

15a

Nos [The Nose], suite, T, Bar, orch, 1928 [from op]

22a

Zolotoy vek [The Golden Age], suite, 1930 [from ballet]

23

Two pieces for E. Dressel’s opera Der arme Columbus, 1929

27a

Bolt (Ballet Suite no.5), 1931 [from ballet]

30a

Zlatïye gorï [Golden Mountains], suite, 1931 [from film score]

32a

Gamlet [Hamlet], suite, 1932 [from incid music]

35

Piano Concerto no.1, c, pf, tpt, str, 1933, D. Shostakovich, A. Shmidt, Leningrad PO, cond. F. Stiedry, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 15 Oct 1933

Suite no.1, jazz orch, 1934

42

Five Fragments, 1935

Suite no.2, jazz orch, 1938

50a

Suite with chorus, arr. L. Atovm′yan, 1961 [from Maxim trilogy]

Solemn March, military band, 1942

64a

Zoya, suite, with chorus, arr. Atovm′yan, ?1944 [from film score]

75a

Molodaya gvardiya [The Young Guard], suite, arr. Atovm′yan, 1951 [from film score]

76a

Pirogov, suite, arr. Atovm′yan, 1951 [from film score]

77

Violin Concerto no.1, a, 1947–8, D. Oistrakh, Leningrad PO, cond. Mravinsky, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 29 Oct 1955

78a

Michurin, suite, with chorus, arr. Atovm′yan, 1964 [from film score]

80a

Vstrecha na El′be [Encounter at the Elbe], suite, with vv, arr. Atovm′yan, 1948 [from film score]

Ballet Suite no.1, arr. Atovm′yan, 1949

82a

Padeniye Berlina [The Fall of Berlin], suite, with chorus, arr. Atovm′yan, 1950 [from film score]

85a

Belinsky, suite, with chorus, arr. Atovm′yan, 1960 [from film scores]

89a

Nezabïvayemïy 1919–y [The Unforgettable Year 1919], suite, arr. Atovm′yan, 1952 [from film score]

Ballet Suite no.2, arr. Atovm′yan, 1951

Ballet Suite no.3, arr. Atovm′yan, 1951

Ballet Suite no.4, arr. Atovm′yan, 1953

96

Festive Overture, A, 1954

97a

Ovod [The Gadfly], suite, arr. Atovm′yan, 1956 [from film score]

99a

Pervïy eshelon [The First Echelon], with chorus, arr. Atovm′yan, 1956

102

Piano Concerto no.2, F, 1957, M. Shostakovich, USSR State SO, cond. N. Anosov, Moscow Conservatory Bol′shoy Hall, 10 May 1957

107

Cello Concerto no.1, E♭, 1959, M. Rostropovich, Leningrad PO, cond. Mravinsky, Leningrad, Philharmonic Bol′shoy Hall, 4 Oct 1959

Novorossiyskiye kurantï/Ogon′vechnoy slavï [Novorossiisk Chimes/The Flame of Eternal Glory], 1960

111a

Pyat′dney–pyat′ nochey [Five Days – Five Nights], suite, arr. Atovm′yan, 1961 [after film score]

114a

Suite from Katerina Izmaylova, S, orch, 1962

115

Overture on Russian and Kyrgyz Folk Themes, 1963

116a

Gamlet [Hamlet], suite, arr. Atovm′yan, 1964 [from film score]

120a

God kak zhízn′ [A Year is Like a Lifetime], suite, arr. Atovm′yan, ?1969 [from film score]

126

Cello Concerto no.2, G, 1966, Rostropovich, USSR State SO, cond. Ye. Svetlanov, Moscow, Conservatory Bol′shoy Hall, 25 Sept 1966

129

Violin Concerto no.2, c♯, 1967, Oistrakh, Moscow PO, cond. Kondrashin, Moscow, Conservatory Bol′shoy Hall, 26 Sept 1967

130

Traurno-triumfal′naya prelyudiya pamyati geroyev stalingradskoy bitvï [Funeral-Triumphal Prelude in Memory of the Heroes of the Battle of Stalingrad], 1967

131

Oktyabr′ [October], sym. poem, 1967

139

March of the Soviet Militia, military band, 1970

Choral

Ot Karla Marksa do nashikh dney [From Karl Marx to Our Days] (sym. poem, N. Aseyev), solo vv, chorus, orch, 1932, unfinished, lost

Klyatva Narkomu [Oath to the People’s Commissar], (V. Sayanov), B, chorus, pf, 1941

Pesnya gvardeyskoy divizii/Idut besstrashnïye gvardeyskiye polki [Song of a Guard’s Division/The Fearless Guard’s Regiments are on the Move] (Rakhmilevich), B, chorus, pf, 1941

Slav′sya otchizna sovetov [Glory to our Soviet Homeland] (Ye. Dolmatovsky), chorus, pf, 1943

Chornoye more [The Black Sea] (S. Alïmov and N. Verkhovsky), B, male chorus, pf, 1944

Zazdravnaya pesnya o Rodine [A Toast to our Motherland] (I. Utkin), T, chorus, pf, 1944

74

Poėma o rodine [Poem of the Motherland] (cant.), Mez, T, 2 Bar, B, chorus, orch, 1947

Antiformalisticheskiy Rayok [Antiformalist Rayok], 4 B, spkr, chorus, pf, ?1948–?1968

81

Pesn′ o lesakh [Song of the Forests] (orat, Ye. Dolmatovsky], T, B, boys’ chorus, chorus, orch, 1949

Nasha pesnya [Our Song] (K. Simonov), B, chorus, pf, 1950

Marsh storonnikov mira [March of the Defenders of Peace] (Simonov), T, chorus, pf, ?1950

88

Ten Poems (turn-of-the-century revolutionary poets), SATB, 1951

90

Nad rodinoy nashey solntse siyayet [The Sun Shines over our Motherland] (cant., Dolmatovsky), boys’ chorus, chorus, orch, 1952

Mï rodinu slavim [We Sing Glory to our Motherland] (V. Sidorov), chorus, pf, 1957

Mï v serdtse oktyabr′skiye zori khranim [We Cherish October Dawns in our Hearts] (Sidorov), chorus, pf, 1957

104

Two Russian Folksong Arrangements, SATB, 1957

Zarya oktyabrya [Dawn of October] (V. Kharitonov), chorus, pf, 1957

119

Kazn′ Stepana Razina [The Execution of Stepan Razin] (vocal-sym. poem Ye. Yevtushenko), B, chorus, orch, 1964

136

Vernost′ [Loyalty] (8 ballads, Dolmatovsky), male chorus, 1970

Solo vocal

4

Two Fables of Krïlov, Mez, chorus, orch, 1922

21

Six Romances (Jap. poets), T, orch, 1928–32

46

Four Romances (A.S. Pushkin), B, pf, 1936–7, nos.1–3 orchd, n.d.

Impromptu-Madrigal, Musical Joke for the New Year, S, pf, in 1930s

62

Six Romances (W. Raleigh, R. Burns, W. Shakespeare, trans. B. Pasternak, S. Marshak), B, pf, 1942, orchd as op.62a, 1943, reorchd as op.140, 1971

62a

Six Romances, B, orch, 1943 [after op.62]

Patrioticheskaya pesnya [Patriotic Song] (Dolmatovsky), 1943

Pesn′ o Krasnoy Armii [Song about the Red Army] (M. Golodny), 1943, collab. A. Khatchaturyan

79

Iz yevreyskoy narodnoy poėzii [From Jewish Folk Poetry], S, A, T, pf, 1948

79a

Iz yevreyskoy narodnoy poėzii, S, A, T, orch, 1948–?64 [after op.79]

84

Two Romances (M. Lermontov), 1v, pf, 1950

86

Four Songs (Dolmatovsky), 1v, pf, 1950–51

91

Four Monologues (Pushkin), B, pf, 1952

Grecheskiye pesni [Greek Songs] (trans. S. Bolotin and T. Sikorskaya), 1v, pf, 1952–3

98

Five Romances ‘Songs of Our Days’ (Dolmatovsky), B, pf, 1954

Bïli potselui [There Were Kisses] (Dolmatovsky), romance, 1v, pf, ?1954

100

Ispanskiye pesni [Spanish Songs] (anon., trans. Bolotin, Sikorskaya), Mez, pf, 1956

109

Satirï [Satires] ‘Pictures of the Past’ (S. Chorny), 5 romances, S, pf, 1960

121

Five Romances (texts from the journal Krokodil), B, pf, 1965

123

Preface to the Complete Edition of my Works and a Brief Reflection apropos of this Preface, B, pf, 1966

127

Seven Verses (A. Blok), S, pf trio, 1967

128

Vesna, vesna [Spring, Spring] (Pushkin), romance, B, pf, 1967

140

Six Romances, B, chbr, orch, 1971 [after op.62]

143

Six Verses (M. Tsvetayeva), A, pf, 1973

143a

Six Verses (Tsvetayeva), A, chbr orch, 1974 [after op.143]

145

Suite (M. Buonarroti, trans. A. Efros), B, pf, 1974

145a

Suite, B, orch, 1975 [after op.145]

146

Four Verses of Captain Lebyadkin (F.M. Dostoyevsky: Besï [The Devils]), B, pf, 1974

Chamber and solo instrumental

8

Piano Trio no.1, 1923

9

Three Pieces, vc, pf, 1923–4, unpubd, lost

11

Two Pieces, str octet, 1924–5

Moderato, vc, pf, in 1930s

40

Sonata, d, vc, pf, 1934, V. Kubatsky, D. Shostakovich, Leningrad, 25 Dec 1934

49

String Quartet no.1, C, 1938, Glazunov Qt, Leningrad, 10 Oct 1938

Three Pieces, vn, 1940, ?lost

57

Piano Quintet, g, 1940, Beethoven Qt, D. Shostakovich, Moscow, 23 Nov 1940

67

Piano Trio no.2, e, 1944, D. Tsïganov, S. Shirinsky, D. Shostakovich, Leningrad, 14 Nov 1944

68

String Quartet no.2, A, 1944, Beethoven Qt, Leningrad, 14 Nov 1944

73

String Quartet no.3, F, 1946, Beethoven Qt, Moscow, 16 Dec 1946

83

String Quartet no.4, D, 1949, Beethoven Qt, Moscow, 3 Dec 1953

92

String Quartet no.5, B♭, 1952, Beethoven Qt, Moscow, 13 Nov 1953

101

String Quartet no.6, G, 1956, Beethoven Qt, Leningrad, 7 Oct 1956

108

String Quartet no.7, f♯, 1960, Beethoven Qt, Leningrad, 15 May 1960

110

String Quartet no.8, c, 1960, Beethoven Qt, Leningrad, 2 Oct 1960

117

String Quartet no.9, E♭, 1964, Beethoven Qt, Moscow, 20 Nov 1964

118

String Quartet no.10, A♭, 1964, Beethoven Qt, Moscow, 20 Nov 1964

122

String Quartet no.11, f, 1966, Beethoven Qt, Leningrad, 28 May 1966

133

String Quartet no.12, D♭, 1968, Beethoven Qt, Moscow, 14 Sept 1968

134

Sonata, vn, pf, 1968, D. Oistrakh, S. Richter, Moscow, 3 May 1969

138

String Quartet no.13, b♭, 1970, Beethoven Qt, Leningrad, 13 Dec 1970

142

String Quartet no.14, F♯, 1973, Beethoven Qt, Leningrad, 12 Nov 1973

144

String Quartet no.15, e♭, 1974, Taneyev Qt, Leningrad, 15 Nov 1974

147

Sonata, va, pf, 1975, F. Druzhinin, M. Muntyan, Leningrad, 1 Oct 1975

Piano

2

Eight Preludes, 1918–20, unpubd

Minuet, Prelude and Intermezzo, unfinished, ?1919–20

Murzilka, n.d.

Five Preludes, 1919–21, collab. P. Fel′dt and G. Klements [from group of 24]

5

Three Fantastic Dances, 1920–22

6

Suite, f♯, 2 pf, 1922

12

Piano Sonata no.1, 1926, D, Shostakovich, Leningrad, 12 Dec 1926

13

Aforizmï [Aphorisms], 10 pieces, 1927

34

24 Preludes, 1932–3

61

Piano Sonata no.2, b, 1943, D. Shostakovich, Moscow, 6 June 1943

69

Detskaya tetrad′ [Children’s notebook], 7 pieces, 1944–5

Vesyolïy marsh [Merry March], 2 pf, 1949

87

24 Preludes and Fugues, 1950–51, T. Nikolayeva, Leningrad, 23 and 28 Dec 1952

Sem′ tantsï kukol [7 Dolls’ Dances], 1952 [arr. from ballet suites]

94

Concertino, 2 pf, 1954

Tarantella, 2 pf, ?1954

Extensive juvenilia incl. Funeral March in Memory of the Victims of the Revolution, ?1917–?1918

Orchestrations

N.A. Rimsky-Korsakov: Ya v grote zhdal [I Waited for Thee in the Grotto], 1921

16

V. Youmans: Tea for Two, orchd as Taiti Trot [Tahiti Trot], 1927

17

Two pieces by D. Scarlatti, wind band, 1928

P. Degeyter: Internationale, 1937

58

M. Musorgsky: Boris Godunov, 1939–40

Mephistopheles’ Song in Auerbach’s Tavern, 1940 [orch of Musorgsky song]

J. Strauss: The Excursion Train Polka, 1941

27 romances and songs, 1941 [transcrs. of classical and popular songs]

Eight British and American Folksongs (trans. S. Marshak, S. Bolotin, T. Sikorskaya), B, chbr orch, 1943

V. Fleischmann: Skripka Rotshil′da [Rothchild’s Violin] (chbr op, after A. Chekov), completed and orchd 1944

106

M. Musorgsky: Khovanshchina, 1958–9; see film scores [Khovanshchina, 1958–9]

M. Musorgsky: Songs and Dances of Death, 1962

124

Two choruses by A. Davidenko, 1963

125

R. Schumann: Cello Concerto, 1963

B. Tischenko: Cello Concerto No.1, 1969

L. van Beethoven: Aus Goethe’s Faust, op.75 no.3, orchd as Mephistopheles Song of the Flea, 1975

Principal publishers: State Music Publishing House, Moscow; DSCH Publishers, Moscow

Writings

  • ‘K prem′ere “Nosa”’ [On the occasion of the première of ‘The Nose’], Rabochiy i teatr (1929), no.24, p.12 only
  • ‘Pochemu “Nos”?’ [Why ‘The Nose’?], Rabochiy i teatr (1930), no.3, p.11 only
  • ‘Deklaratisya obyazannostey kompozitora’ [Declaration of a composer’s responsibilities], Rabochiy i teatr (1931), no.31, p.6 only
  • ‘Sovetskaya muzïkal′naya kritika otstayot’ [Soviet musical criticism is lagging], SovM (1933), no.3, pp.120–21
  • ‘Tragediya-satira’ [A tragedy-satire], Sovetskoye iskusstvo (16 Oct 1933); repr. in Dmitry Shostakovich, ed. L. Danilevich (Moscow, 1967), 13–14
  • ‘My Opera “Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk”’, MM, 12 (1934–5), 23–30
  • ‘Moy tvorcheskiy put′’ [My creative path], Izvestiya (3 April 1935), p.4 only
  • ‘Autobiographie’, ReM, nos.167–70 (1936), 432–3
  • ‘Moi blizhayshchiye rabotï’ [My next works], Rabochiy i teatr (1937), no.11, p.24 only
  • ‘Moy tvorcheskiy otvet’ [My creative answer], Vechernyaya Moskva (25 Jan 1938), p.3 only
  • ‘Moya sed′maya simfoniya’ [My seventh symphony], Vechernyaya Moskva (8 Oct 1941); repr. in Izvestiya (13 Feb 1942), p.3 only
  • ‘Sovetskaya muzïka v dni voynï’ [Soviet music in the days of war], Literatura i iskusstvo (1 April 1944); repr. in SovM (1975), no.11, pp.64–77
  • ‘Vospominaniya ob I.I Sollertinskom’ [Recollections of Sollertinsky], Informatsionnïy byulleten′ SK SSSR (1944), nos.5–6; repr. in Muzïkal′ nïy sovremennik, i, (1973), 338–40
  • ‘Nasha rabota v godï Otechestvennoy voynï’ [Our work during the years of World War II], Rabota kompozitorov i muzïkovedov Leningrada v godï Velikoy Otechestvennoy voynï (Leningrad, 1946), 61–70
  • ‘Thoughts about Tchaikovsky’, Russian Symphony (New York, 1947), 1–5
  • ‘Vïstupleniye na sobranii kompozitorov i muzïkovedov g. Moskvï’ [Speech at the gathering of composers and musicologists of the city of Moscow], SovM (1948), no.1, pp.78–9
  • ‘Mï dolzhnï ob″ yedinit′ nashi usiliya’ [We should unite our efforts], Vechernyaya Moskva (29 March 1949); repr. in Literaturnaya gazeta (30 March 1949), Kul′tura i zhizn′ (31 March 1949), Sovetskoye iskusstvo (2 April 1949) [speech at New York Peace Congress]
  • ‘O podlinnoy i mnimoy programmnosti’ [On genuine and imaginary programme music], SovM (1951), no.5, pp.76–8
  • ‘Po puti narodnosti i realizma’ [Along the road of national character and realism], SovM (1952), no.11, pp.6–11
  • ‘Pesni gneva i bor′bï’ [Songs of rage and struggle], SovM (1953), no.6, pp.33–6
  • ‘Radost′ tvorcheskikh iskaniy’ [The joy of creative quests], SovM (1954), no.1, pp.40–42
  • ‘Dumï o proydyonnom puti’ [Thoughts about the path traversed], SovM (1956), no.9, pp.9–15
  • ‘Novoye o Mayakovskom’ [Some news about Mayakovsky], Literaturnaya gazeta (9 Oct 1956); repr. in Dmitry Shostakovich, ed. L. Danilevich (Moscow, 1967), 25–6
  • ‘O nekotorïkh nasushchnïkh voprosakh muzïkal′nogo tvorchestva’ [On some vital questions of musical creativity], Pravda (17 June 1956); repr. in Dmitry Shostakovich, ed. L. Danilevich (Moscow, 1967), 16–24
  • ‘Otvet amerikanskomu muzïkal′nomu kritiku’ [Answer to an American music critic], SovM (1956), no.3, pp.142–3; see also New York Times (8 Jan 1956)
  • ‘Po puti ukazannomu partiyey’ [On the path shown by the party], Sovetskaya kul′tura (10 Sept 1957); repr. in SovM (1957), no.10, p.10 only
  • ‘Mirovoy avtoritet sovetskogo iskusstva’ [The worldwide authority of Soviet art], Pravda (13 June 1958); repr. in Sovetskaya kul′tura (14 June 1958)
  • Znat′ i lyubit′ muzïku: beseda s molodyozh′yu [To know and love music: a conversation with youth] (Moscow, 1958)
  • ‘Bit′ na vïsote velikikh zadach’ [Being equal to great tasks], SovM (1959), no.1, pp.7–10
  • Foreword to A.S. Rabinovich : Izbrannïye stat′i i materialï [Selected essays and materials] (Moscow, 1959)
  • ‘Shirokiye massï vernï nastoyashchey muzïke’ [The general public is faithful to real music], SovM (1959), no.11, pp.6–9
  • ‘Bol′shoy talant, bol′shoy master’ [A great talent, a great master]: foreword to I.O. Dunayevsky: Vïstupleniya, stat′i, pis′ma, vospominaniya, ed. Ė. Grosheva (Moscow, 1961), pp.ix–xii
  • ‘Moya Alma Mater’, SovM (1962), no.9, pp.101–4
  • ‘Nas vdokhnovlyayet partiya’ [The party inspires us], Muzïkal′naya zhizn′ (1962), no.2, pp.1–3; repr. in SovM (1962), no.3, pp.3–15
  • ‘Stranitsï vospominaniy’ [Pages of recollections], Leningradskaya konservatoriya v vospominaniyakh, ed. G. Tigranov (Leningrad, 1962, 2/1987), 94–8
  • ‘Iz vospominaniy o Mayakovskom’ [Recollections about Mayakovsky], V. Mayakovskiy v vospominaniyakh sovremennikov (Moscow, 1963), 315–17
  • I.I. Sollertinsky’ : foreword to I.I. Sollertinskiy: Istoricheskiye etyudï, ed. M. Druskin (Leningrad, 2/1963), pp.iii–xi
  • Foreword to B. Yavorskiy Vospominaniya, stat′i i pis′ma [Reminiscences, essays and letters], ed. D. Shostakovich, 1 (Moscow, 1964, rev. 2/1972)
  • Foreword to Gustav Maler [Mahler], ed. I. Barsova (Moscow, 1964, 2/1968)
  • ‘Kak rozhdayetsya muzïka’ [How music is born], Literaturnaya gazeta (21 Dec 1965); repr. in Dmitry Shostakovich, ed. L. Danilevich (Moscow, 1967), 35–9
  • ‘Avtobiografiya’ [Autobiography], SovM (1966), no.9, pp.24–5
  • The Power of Music (New York, 1968) [9 essays orig. pubd in The Music Journal, 1962–8]
  • ‘Natsional′nïye traditsii i zakonomernosti ikh razvitiya’ [National traditions and the laws of their development], SovM (1971), no.12, pp.34–6; Eng. trans. in Composer, no.42 (1971–2), 1–4
  • ‘Iz vospominaniy’ [Recollections], SovM (1974), no.3, pp.54–5
  • ‘V 1928 gody …’ [In 1928], Teatr (1974), no.2, pp.52–4
  • ‘Muzïka i vremya: zametki kompozitora’ [Music and time: remarks of a composer], Kommunist (1975), no.7, pp.38–44; repr. in Muzïka i sovremennost′, x (1976), 5–16
  • ‘Grand Slam’, Music and Musicians, 24/1 (1975–6), 24–6
  • with A. Abramova and V. Stroyeva : ‘K istorii rabotï nad fil′mom “Khovanshchina”’ [A sketch of the history of work on the film ‘Khovanshchina’], Zhizn′ v kino: veteranï o sebe i svoikh tovarishchakh, ed. O.T. Nesterovich, 2 (Moscow, 1979), 290–313
  • ed. G. Pribegina : D. Shostakovich o vremeni i o sebe: 1926–1975 [Shostakovich about himself and his times] (Moscow, 1980; Eng. trans., ed. L. Grigoryev and Ya. Platek, Moscow, 1981)
  • ed. C. Helmundt and K. Meyer : Erfahrungen: Aufsätze, Erinnerungen, Reden, Diskussionsbeiträge, Interviews, Briefe (Leipzig, 1983)
  • ‘O sovetskoy pesne i ėstradnoy muzïke’ [On the Soviet song and variety music], SovM (1986), no.10, pp.47–51
  • ‘… Ya pïtalsya peredat′ pafos bor′bï i pobedï’ [I tried to convey the pathos of struggle and victory], SovM (1986), no.10, pp.52–7
  • Many articles in Eng. trans. in The Current Digest of the Soviet Press, VOKS Bulletins, Information Bulletin of the Union of Soviet Composers, Music Section Bulletins of the Society for Cultural Relations with the USSR
  • Several articles in Ger. trans. in MG; for list and some articles, see Brockhaus (2/1963)
  • For list (inc.) of Russ. articles to 1964 see Sadovnikov (2/1965), 178

Bibliography

    A Catalogues. B Collections of essays. C Life and works. D Style. E Dramatic works. F Orchestral works. G Vocal works. H Chamber works.

    A: Catalogues
    • E. Sadovnikov : D.D. Shostakovich: notograficheskiy spravochnik [Catalogue of works] (Moscow, 1961; enlarged with bibliography, 2/1965)
    • D.C. Hulme : Dmitri Shostakovich: Catalogue, Bibliography & Discography (Muir of Ord, 1982, 2/1991)
    • E. Meskhishvili : Dmitry Shostakovich: notograficheskiy spravochnik (Moscow, 1995)
    B: Collections of essays
    • L.G. Berger, ed.: Chertï stilya D. Shostakovicha [Shostakovich’s stylistic traits] (Moscow, 1962)
    • L. Danilevich, ed.: Dmitry Shostakovich (Moscow, 1967)
    • Muzïkal′ naya zhizn′ (1976), no.17 [Shostakovich issue]
    • G.M. Shneerson, ed.: D. Shostakovich: stat′i i materialï [Articles and materials] (Moscow, 1976)
    • SovM (1976), no.9; (1981), nos.9–10; (1986), nos.9–10 [special issues]
    • C. Norris, ed.: Shostakovich: the Man and his Music (London, 1982)
    • Dmitri Schostakowitsch 1984/5: Wissenschaftliche Beiträge: Dokumente. Interpretationen. Programme (Duisburg, 1984)
    • Dmitri Shostakovich: Cologne 1985
    • Teoretichna konferentsiya posvetena na Dmitry Shostakovich: Sofia 1986
    • Avant-scène opéra, no.141 (1991) [The Nose, Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District issue]
    • Melos [Stockholm] (1993), nos.4–5 [Shostakovich issue]
    • DSCH Journal (1994–)
    • D. Fanning, ed.: Shostakovich Studies (Cambridge, 1995)
    • L. Kovnatskaya, ed.: D.D. Shostakovich: sbornik statey k 90–letiyu so dnya rozhdeniya (St Petersburg, 1996)
    • E. Dolinskaya, ed.: Shostakovichu posvyashchayetsya: sbornik statey k 90-letiyu kompozitora 1906–1996 (Moscow, 1997)
    • MAk (1997), no.4 [special issue]
    • A.B. Ho and D. Feofanov, eds.: Shostakovich Reconsidered (London, 1998)
    • H. Schmalenberg, ed.: Schostakowitsch in Deutschland: Schostakowitsch-Studien, 1 (Berlin, 1998)
    • R. Bartlett, ed.: Shostakovich in Context (Oxford, 2000)
    C: Life and works
    • N. Slonimsky : ‘Dmitri Dmitrievitch Shostakovich’, MQ, 28 (1942), 415–44
    • G. Abraham : Eight Soviet Composers (London, 1943/R)
    • V.I. Seroff : Dmitri Shostakovich: the Life and Background of a Soviet Composer (New York, 1943/R)
    • I. Martïnov : Dmitry Shostakovich (Moscow, 1946, 2/1956; Eng. trans., 1947/R)
    • M. Koval′ : ‘Tvorcheskiy put′ D. Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s creative path], SovM (1948), no.2, pp.47–61; no.3, pp.31–43; no.4, pp.8–19
    • A. Werth : Musical Uproar in Moscow (London, 1949/R)
    • A. Olkhovsky : Music Under the Soviets: the Agony of an Art (New York, 1955/R)
    • L. Danilevich : D. Shostakovich (Moscow, 1958)
    • D. Rabinovich : Dmitri Shostakovich, Composer (Moscow and London, 1959)
    • M. Sabinina : Dmitry Shostakovich (Moscow, 1959)
    • H.A. Brockhaus : Dmitri Schostakowitsch (Leipzig, 1962, abridged 2/1963) [2nd edn incl. articles by Shostakovich in Ger. trans.]
    • I. Martïnov : D. Shostakovich: ocherk zhizni i tvorchestva [A study of his life and works] (Moscow, 1962)
    • S. Khentova : Shostakovich, pianist (Leningrad, 1964)
    • G. Orlov : ‘O shekspirovskom u Shostakovicha’ [On the Shakespearean in Shostakovich], Shekspir i muzïka, ed. L. Raaben (Leningrad, 1964), 276–302
    • L. Danilevich : Nash sovremennik: tvorchestvo Shostakovicha [Our contemporary: the work of Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1965)
    • N. Malko : A Certain Art (New York, 1966)
    • G. Orlov : Dmitry Shostakovich (Leningrad, 1966)
    • G. Serebryakova : ‘D.D. Shostakovich’, O drugikh i o sebe (Moscow, 1968), 297–308
    • V. Del′son : ‘Molodoy Shostakovich, o pianiste 20ïkh i 30ïkh gg.’ [The young Shostakovich, as a pianist of the 1920s and 1930s], Voprosï muzïkal′ no-ispolnitel′skogo iskusstva, ed. A.A. Nikolayev and others, v (Moscow, 1969), 193–228
    • S.D. Krebs : Soviet Composers and the Development of Soviet Music (London and New York, 1970)
    • N. Kay : Shostakovich (London, 1971)
    • N. Slonimsky : Music Since 1900 (New York, 4/1971)
    • K. Meyer : Shostakovich (Kraków, 1973, 2/1986; Ger. trans., 1980, 2/1995; Fr. trans. 1994)
    • S. Khentova : Molodïye godï Shostakovicha [Shostakovich’s youthful years], 1 (Moscow, 1975–80)
    • M. Barry : ‘The Significance of Shostakovich’, Composer, no.56 (1975–6), 11–14; no.57 (1976), 19–22
    • L.S. Tret′yakova : Dmitry Shostakovich (Moscow, 1976)
    • M. Kozlova : ‘Vsegda dorozhu vashem mneniyem …’ [I always value your opinion], Vstrechi s proshlïm, sbornik materialov, 3, ed. N. Volkova (Moscow, 1978), 253–9 [correspondence between Shostakovich and Prokofiev]; Eng. trans., in ‘Prokofiev’s Correspondence with Stravinsky and Shostakovich’, Slavonic and Western Music: Essays for Gerald Abraham, ed. M.H. Brown and R.J. Wiley (Ann Arbor and Oxford, 1985), 271–92
    • S. Khentova : D.D. Shostakovich v godï Velikoy Otechestvennoy voynï [Shostakovich during World War II] (Leningrad, 1979)
    • S. Khentova : Shostakovich v Petrograde-Leningrade (Leningrad, 1979, 2/1981)
    • M. Shaginyan : O Shostakoviche [On Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1979)
    • I. Sollertinsky : Von Mozart bis Schostakowitsch (Leipzig, 1979)
    • S. Volkov, ed.: Testimony: the Memoirs of Dmitri Shostakovich (London and New York, 1979)
    • L. Danilevich : Dmitry Shostakovich: zhizn′ i tvorchestvo [Life and works] (Moscow, 1980)
    • L.E. Fay : ‘Shostakovich Versus Volkov: Whose Testimony?’, Russian Review, 39 (1980), 484–93
    • D. Gojowy : Neue sowjetische Musik der 20er Jahre (Laaber, 1980)
    • D. and L. Sollertinsky : Pages from the Life of Dmitri Shostakovich (New York, 1980)
    • S. Volkov : ‘O neizbezhnoy vstreche: Shostakovich i Dostoyevskiy’ [On an inevitable meeting: Shostakovich and Dostoyevsky], Rossiya/Russia, 4 (1980), 199–222
    • S. Khentova : D.D. Shostakovich: tridtsatiletiye 1945–75 [The thirty years 1945–75] (Leningrad, 1982)
    • E. Roseberry : Shostakovich: his Life and Times (Tunbridge Wells and New York, 1982)
    • A. Shebalina, ed.: ‘…Ėto bïl zamechatel′nïy drug: iz pisem D.D. Shostakovicha k V. Ya. Shebalinu’ [He was a remarkable friend: from Shostakovich’s letters to Shebalin], SovM (1982), no.7, pp.75–85
    • F. Streller : Dmitri Schostakowitsch (Leipzig, 1982)
    • S. Volkov : ‘O Sergeye Sergeyeviche i Dmitrii Dmitriyeviche: interv′yu s Mstislavom Rostropovichem’ [About Prokofiev and Shostakovich: interview with Mstislav Rostropovich], Chast′ rechi, 2–3 (1982), 254–62; Eng. trans. as ‘A Conversation with Mstislav Rostropovich’, Keynote, xi (1987), 8–12; abridged trans. as ‘Tradition Returns: Rostropovich’s Symbolism’ in Shostakovich Reconsidered, ed. A.B. Ho and D. Feofanov (London, 1998), 359–72
    • G. Glikman : ‘Shostakovich kakim ya yego znal’ [Shostakovich as I knew him], Kontinent (1983), no.37, pp.361–81; (1983), no.38. pp.319–54; Ger. trans. in Schostakowitsch in Deutschland: Schostakowitsch-Studien, i, ed. H. Schmalenberg (Berlin, 1998), 177–207
    • D. Gojowy : Dimitri Schostakowitsch mit Selbstzeugnissen und Bilddokumenten (Reinbek bei Hamburg, 1983); Fr. trans. as Chostakovitch (Arles, 1988)
    • C. Samuel : Entretiens avec Mstislav Rostropovitch et Galina Vichnevskaïa (Paris, 1983); Eng. trans. as Mstislav Rostropovich and Galina Vishnevskaya: Russia, Music, and Liberty (Portland, 1995)
    • L. Zhukova : ‘Mitya “Chtozhtakovich”’, Ėpilogi, 1 (New York, 1983), 25–43
    • J. Fromme, ed.: Dmitri Schostakowitsch und seine Zeit: Mensch und Werk, Niederrheinisches Museum der Stadt Duisburg, 16 Sept – 28 Oct 1984 (Moscow, 1984) [exhibition catalogue]
    • M. Kozlova : ‘“Mne ispolnilos′ vosemnadtsat′ let …”: pis′ma D.D. Shostakovicha k L.N. Oborinu’ [‘I have turned 18 …’: letters from Shostakovich to Oborin], Vstrechi s proshlïm, 5 (1984), 232–60
    • B. Schwarz : ‘Shostakovich, Soviet Citizen and Anti-Stalinist’, Music and Civilization: Essays in Honor of Paul Henry Lang, ed. E. Strainchamps, M.R. Maniates and C. Hatch (New York, 1984), 363–70
    • M. Shaginyan : ‘Fifty Letters from Dmitri Shostakovich’, Soviet Literature (1984), no.1, pp.68–99
    • Dmitri Schostakowitsch und seine Zeit: Kunst und Kultur, Wilhelm-Lembruck-Museum der Stadt Duisberg, 16 Sept – 28 Oct 1984 (Duisburg, 1984) [exhibition catalogue]
    • G. Vishnevskaya : Galina: a Russian Story (Eng. trans., San Diego, 1984)
    • S. Khentova : Shostakovich: zhizn′ i tvorchestvo [Life and works] (Leningrad, 1985–6, 2/1996)
    • B. Feuchtner : Und Kunst geknebelt von der groben Macht: Dimitri Schostakowitsch (Frankfurt, 1986)
    • D. Gojowy : ‘Dimitri Schostakowitsch: Briefe an Edison Denissow’, Music des Ostens, 10 (1986), 181–206
    • S. Khentova : Shostakovich na Ukraine [Shostakovich in the Ukraine] (Kiev, 1986)
    • S. Khentova : Shostakovich v Moskve [Shostakovich in Moscow] (Moscow, 1986)
    • L. Mikheyeva : ‘Istoriya odnoy druzhbï’ [The story of a friendship], SovM (1986), no.9, pp.24–33; (1987), no.9, pp.78–84
    • G. Orlov : ‘Pri dvore torzhestvuyushchey lzhi’ [At the court of a triumphant lie], Strana i mï (1986), no.3, pp.62–75; Eng. trans. abridged as ‘A Link in the Chain: Reflections on Shostakovich’s Biography’, Music in the USSR (1990), Jan–March, 36–47
    • R. Sadïkhova and D. Frederiks, ed.: ‘Dmitry Shostakovich: pis′ma k materi’ [Letters to his mother], Neva (1986), no.9, pp.166–75
    • L. Seehaus : Dmitrij Schostakowitsch: Leben und Werk (Wilhelmshaven, 1986)
    • L. Sollertinskaya : ‘Shostakovich, voyennïye godï’ [Shostakovich, the war years], Zvezda (1986), no.9, pp.169–78
    • M. Chulaki : ‘Segodnya rasskazhu o Shostakoviche’ [Today I will tell about Shostakovich], Zvezda (1987), no.7, pp.189–94
    • M. Druskin : ‘Shostakovich v 20-e godï’, Ocherki, stat′i, zametki (Leningrad, 1987), 45–59
    • V. Kiselev : ‘Iz pisem 1930-kh godov’ [From letters of the 1930s], SovM (1987), no.9, pp.85–91
    • F. Pulcini : Šostakovič (Turin, 1988)
    • R. Dubinsky : Stormy Applause: Making Music in a Worker’s State (New York, 1989)
    • B. Frezinsky : ‘Erenburg i Shostakovich’ [Ehrenburg and Shostakovich], Neva (1989), no.8, pp.205–8
    • M. Goldstein : ‘Dmitri Chostakovitch et Evgueni Zamiatine’, Autour de Zamiatine: Lausanne 1987, ed. L. Heller (Lausanne, 1989), 113–23
    • A.I. Klimovitsky : ‘Shostakovich i Bėthoven’ [Shostakovich and Beethoven], Traditsii muzïkal′noy nauki: sbornik issledovatel′skikh statey, ed. L. Kovnatskaya (Leningrad, 1989), 177–205
    • V. Razhnikov : Kirill Kondrashin rasskazïvayet (Moscow, 1989)
    • S. Khentova : Shostakovich i Sibir′ [Shostakovich and Siberia] (Novosibirsk, 1990)
    • I. MacDonald : The New Shostakovich (London, 1990)
    • D. Zhitomirsky : ‘Shostakovich ofitsial′ nïy i podlinnïy’ [Shostakovich official and genuine], Daugava (1990), no.3, pp.88–100; no.4, pp.97–108
    • V. Bobrovsky : ‘Shostakovich v moyey zhizni: lichnïye zametki’ [Shostakovich in my life: personal notes], SovM (1991), no.99, pp.23–30
    • S. Khentova : ‘Zhenshchinï v zhizni Shostakovicha’ [The women in Shostakovich’s life], Vremya i mï (1991), no.112, pp.217–78
    • K. Meyer : ‘Prokofjew und Schostakowitsch’, Sergej Prokofjew: Cologne 1991, 111–33
    • G. Wolter : Dmitri Schostakowitsch: eine sowjetische Tragödie: Rezeptionsgeschichte (Frankfurt, 1991)
    • L. Lebedinsky : ‘D.D. Shostakovich o russkoy narodnoy pesne i khore imeni Pyatnitskogo’ [Shostakovich on the Russian folk song and the Pyatnitsky chorus], Novïy mir (March, 1992), no.3, pp.208–15
    • M. Ozhigova : ‘Mitya, Dmitry Dmitriyevich’, Muzïkal′naya pedagogika v ideyakh i litsakh, ed. A. Selitsky (Rostov-on-Don, 1992), 84–97
    • L. Rudneva : ‘Shostakovich i Meyerkhol′d’, Aprel′ (1992), no.5, pp.219–29
    • I. Glikman, ed.: Pis′ma k drugu: Dmitry Shostakovich, Isaaku Glikmanu [Letters to a friend: Shostakovich to Glikman] (Moscow and St Petersburg, 1993; Fr. trans., 1994, Ger. trans., 1995)
    • S. Khentova : Udivtel′nïy Shostakovich [Amazing Shostakovich] (St Petersburg, 1993)
    • M. Konisskaya : ‘Dusha i maska: pis′ma D.D. Shostakovicha k L.N. Lebedinskomu’ [Soul and mask: the letters from Shostakovich to Lebedinsky], Muzïkal′naya zhizn′ (1993), nos.23–4, pp.11–14
    • L. Lebedinsky : ‘Iz “bessistemnïkh zapisey”’ [From unsystematic notes], Muzïkal′ naya zhizn′ (1993), nos.21–22, pp.26–8
    • Ye. Makarov : ‘Ya bezgranichno uvazhal yego …’ [I respected him boundlessly], MAk (1993), no.1, pp.146–54
    • E. Wilson : Shostakovich: a Life Remembered (London, 1994)
    • E. Shvartsval′d-Khmïznikova : ‘Sofiya Vasil′yevna, mat′ Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s mother], MAk (1995), no.2, pp.185–8
    • R. Taruskin : ‘Who was Shostakovich?’, The Atlantic Monthly, 275/2 (1995), 62–4, 66–8, 70–72
    • S. Khentova : Pushkin v muzïke Shostakovicha [Pushkin in Shostakovich’s music] (St Petersburg, 1996)
    • S. Khentova : V mire Shostakovicha [In the world of Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1996)
    • L. Kovnatskaya : ‘Shostakovich v protokolakh LASM’ [Shostakovich in the protocols of LASM], D.D. Shostakovich: sbornik statey k 90-letiyu so dnya rozhdeniya (St Petersburg, 1996), 48–67; abridged Eng. trans. as ‘Shostakovich and the LASM’, Tempo, no.206 (1998), 2–6
    • F. Litvinova : ‘Vospominaya Shostakovicha’ [Remembering Shostakovich], Znamya (1996), no.12, pp.156–77
    • L. Mikheyeva-Sollertinskaya : ‘Pis′ma Shostakovicha k Sollertinskomu’ [Shostakovich’s letters to Sollertinsky], Zhurnal lyubiteley iskusstva (1996), no.2, pp.9–15; no.3, pp.6–13; no.4, pp.6–12; (1997), no.1, pp.16–20; nos.4–5, pp.16–30; nos.6–7, pp.47–50; nos.8–9, pp.59–65; nos.10–11, pp.44–51; (1998), no.1, pp.43–7
    • D. Shitomirski : Blindheit als Schutz vor der Wahrheit (Berlin, 1996)
    • D. Tsïganov : ‘Chetïre desyatiletiya muzïki’ [Four decades of music], Muzïkal′naya zhizn′ (1996), nos.9–10, pp.37–9; nos.11–12, pp.39–41
    • I. Varzar : ‘Mat′ geniya’ [Mother of a genius], Neva (1996), no.12, pp.207–9
    • I. Varzar : ‘Molodoy Shostakovich, stranitsï iz zhizni’ [The young Shostakovich, pages from his life], Neva (1996), no.9, pp.233–40
    • S. Jackson : Dmitri Shostakovich, an Essential Guide to his Life and Works (London, 1997)
    • E. Kuhn, ed.: ‘Volksfeind Dmitri Schostakowitsch’: eine Dokumentation der öffentlichen Angriffe gegen den Komponisten in der ehemaligen Sowjetunion (Berlin, 1997)
    • L. Maksimenkov : Sumbur vmesto muzïki: stalinskaya kul′turnaya revolyutsiya, 1936–1938 [Muddle instead of music: the Stalinist cultural revolution, 1936–1938] (Moscow, 1997)
    • L. Mikheyeva : Zhizn′ Dmitriya Shostakovicha [Life of Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1997)
    • Pis′ma Dmitriya Dmitriyevicha Shostakovicha Borisu Tishchenko: s kommentariyami i vospominaniyami adresata [Letters of Shostakovich to Boris Tishchenko: with commentary and reminiscences of the addressee] (St Petersburg, 1997)
    • R. Taruskin : ‘Shostakovich and Us’, Defining Russia Musically: Historical and Hermeneutical Essays (Princeton, 1997), 468–97
    • V. Zak : Shostakovich i yevrei? [Shostakovich and the Jews?] (New York, 1997)
    • L. Hakopian : Music of the Soviet Age 1917–1987 (Stockholm, 1998)
    • S. Khentova : Dmitry Shostakovich: ‘Zdes′ khorosho’ [‘It’s fine here’] (Sestroretsk, 1998)
    • E. Makarov : Dnevnik: vospominaniya ob uchitele – D.D. Shostakovich [Diary: reminiscences of my teacher Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1998)
    • L.E. Fay : Shostakovich: A Life (New York, 1999)
    D: Style
    • V. Bobrovsky : ‘Pretvoreniye zhanra passakal′i v sonatno-simfonicheskikh tsiklakh D. Shostakovicha’ [Reinterpretation of the genre passacaglia in the sonata-symphonic cycles of Shostakovich], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 1 (1962), 149–82
    • B. Budrin : ‘Variatsionnïye tsiklï v tvorchestve Shostakovicha’ [Variation cycles in Shostakovich’s work], Voprosï muzïkal′noy formï, 1 (Moscow, 1966), 181–230
    • V. Zaderatsky : ‘Polifoniya kak printsip razvitiya v sonatnoy forme Shostakovicha i Khindemita’ [Polyphony as a developmental principle in the sonata forms of Shostakovich and Hindemith], Voprosï muzïkal′noy formï, 1 (Moscow, 1966), 231–77
    • V. Sereda : ‘O ladovoy strukture muzïki Shostakovicha’ [On the harmonic structure of Shostakovich’s music], Voprosï teorii muzïki, 1, ed. S. Skrebkov (Moscow, 1968), 324–51
    • A. Bogdanova : ‘Sochineniya D. Shostakovicha konservatorskikh let 1919–1925’ [Shostakovich’s compositions during his conservatory years], Iz istorii russkoy i sovetskoy muzïki, ed. A. Kandinsky (Moscow, 1971), 64–93
    • A. Tsuker : ‘Tema naroda u Shostakovicha i traditsii Musorgskovo’ [The folk theme in Shostakovich and the traditions of Musorgsky], Voprosï teorii i ėstetiki muzïki, 10 (1971), 32–59
    • V. Bobrovsky : ‘O nekotorïkh storonakh ladotonal′noy peremennosti v muzïke D. Shostakovicha: na primere Largo iz Pyatoy Simfonii’ [On same features of modal-tonal variability in the music of Shostakovich: based on the Largo of the Fifth Symphony], Problemï lada: sbornik statey, ed. K. Yuzhak (Moscow, 1972), 239–51
    • G. Grigor′yeva : ‘Iz nablyudenniy nad rannim stilem D. Shostakovicha’ [Some observations on the early style of Shostakovich], Problemï muzïkal′noy nauki, 2 (1973), 133–49
    • V. Bobrovsky : ‘O nekotorïkh chertakh stilya Shostakovicha shestidesyatïkh godov’ [On some features of Shostakovich’s style in the 1960s], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 8 (1974), 161–201; ix (1975), 39–77
    • G. Grigor′yeva : ‘Osobennosti tematizma i formï v sochineniyakh Shostakovicha 60-kh godov’ [Special features of thematicism and form in Shostakovich’s compositions of the 1960s], O muzïke: problemï analiza, ed. V. Bobrovsky and G. Golovinsky (Moscow, 1974), 246–71
    • S. Belova : ‘O melodizatsii formï i nekotorïkh chertakh melodicheskogo tematizma v instrumetal′nïkh proizvedeniyakh D. Shostakovicha’ [On the melodic treatment of form and some features of melodic style in the instrumental works of Shostakovich], Muzïkoznaniye, 8–9, ed. P. Aravin (Alma-Ata 1976), 57–82
    • L. Berezovchuk : ‘Stilevïye vzaimodeystviya v tvorchestve D. Shostakovicha kak sposob voploshcheniya konflikta’ [Stylistic interactions in the work of Shostakovich as a means of the embodiment of conflict], Voprosï teorii i ėstetiki muzïki, 15 (1977), 95–119
    • G. Kocharova : ‘Osobennosti garmonicheskogo stilya D.D. Shostakovicha’ [Peculiarities of Shostakovich’s harmonic style], SovM (1977), no.9, pp.112–16
    • K. Meyer : ‘Mahler und Schostakowitsch’, Gustav Mahler: Sinfonie und Wirklichkeit, ed. O. Kolleritsch (Graz, 1977), 118–32
    • V. Shirokova : ‘O stilisticheskoy semantike instrumental′noy muzïke Shostakovicha’ [On the stylistic semantics of Shostakovich’s instrumental music], Analiz, kontseptsii, kritika, ed. L. Dan′ko (Leningrad, 1977), 19–31
    • H. Danuser : ‘Dmitri Schostakowitschs musikalisch-politisches Revolutionverständnis 1926–27: zur Ersten Klaviersonate und zur Zweiten Sinfonie’, Melos/NZM, 4 (1978), 3–11
    • E. Fedosova : Diatonicheskiye ladï v tvorchestve D. Shostakovicha [Diatonic modes in the work of Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1980)
    • Ye. Sokolova : ‘Funktsional′naya sistema garmonii pozdnego perioda tvorchestva D. Shostakovicha’ [The functional system of harmony in works of Shostakovich’s late period], Problemï lada i garmonii: sbornik trudov (Moscow, 1981), 144–60
    • V. Protopopov : ‘O printsipakh formoobrazovaniya u Shostakovicha’ [On the principles of formal organization in Shostakovich], Izbrannïye issledovaniya i stat′i (Moscow, 1983), 75–98
    • S. Sawenko : ‘Zum Weiterwirken der von Schostakowitsch ausgehenden Traditionen im Schaffen sowjetischer Gegenwartskomponisten’, Sowjetische Musik: Betrachtungen und Analysen, ed. H. Gerlach (Berlin, 1984), 43–60
    • N. Gerasimova-Persidskaya : ‘I.S. Bakh i D. Shostakovich’ [J.S. Bach and Shostakovich], I.S. Bakh i sovremennost′, ed. N. Gerasimova-Persidskaya (Kiev, 1985), 33–43
    • L. Mazel′ : Ėtyudï o Shostakoviche [Etudes on Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1986)
    • A.N. Dmitriyev : ‘Sonatnaya forma v proizvedeniyakh D. Shostakovicha’ [Sonata form in the works of Shostakovich], Issledovaniya, stat′i, nablyudeniya (Leningrad, 1989), 26–58
    • A. Klimov : ‘Gorizontal′naya i vertikal′naya vvodnotonovïye sistemï: nekotorïye ladogarmonicheskiye yavleniya v muzïke S. Prokof′yeva i D. Shostakovicha’ [Horizontal and vertical leading-tone systems: some modal-harmonic phenomena in the music of Prokofiev and Shostakovich], Problemï muzïkal′noy nauki, 7 (1989), 90–102
    • A. Lischke : ‘Présence et négation du dodecaphonisme dans les dernières oeuvres de Chostakovitch’, Analyse musicale, no.17 (1989), 31–7
    • R.M. Longman : Expression and Structure: Processes of Integration in the Large-Scale Instrumental Music of Dmitri Shostakovich (New York, 1989)
    • D. Redepenning : ‘Mahler und Schostakowitsch’, Gustav Mahler: Hamburg 1989, 345–62
    • E. Roseberry : Ideology, Style, Content and Thematic Process in the Symphonies, Cello Concertos and String Quartets of Shostakovich (New York, 1989)
    • Yu. Kholopov : ‘Formï klassicheskogo tipa v muzïke Shostakovicha’ [Classical forms in the music of Shostakovich], Moskovskiy muzïkoved: yezhegodnik, ed. M.E. Tarakanov, 1 (Moscow, 1990), 195–212
    • J. Wildberger : ‘Ausdruck lähmender Angst: über die Bedeutung von Zwölftonreihen in Spätwerken von Schostakowitsch’, NZM, 151/2 (1990), 4–11
    • M. Abdel-Aziz : Form and Gehalt in den Violoncellowerken von Dmitri Schostakowitsch (Regensburg, 1992)
    • E. Sokolova : ‘O modal′noy tekhnike pozdnego Shostakovicha’ [On the modal technique of late Shostakovich], Laudamus: k shestidesyatiletiyu Yuriya Nikolayevicha Kholopova (Moscow, 1992), 138–46
    • P. Child : ‘Voice-Leading Patterns and Interval Collections in Late Shostakovich: Symphony no.15’, MA, 12 (1993), 71–88
    • A. Liebert : ‘Anmerkungen und Ergebnisse zum Verhältnis Mahler-Šostakovič’, Theorie der Musik: Analyse und Deutung, ed. C. Floros and others (Laaber, 1995), 223–52
    • J. Gubanow : ‘Der Stil Dimitrij Schostakowitschs in den zwanziger Jahren: Harmonik, Polyphonie, Instrumentation’, Musik der zwanziger Jahre, ed. W. Keil (Hildesheim, 1996), 135–65
    E: Dramatic works
    • ‘Nos’, opera v 3 deystviyakh, 10 kartinakh po N.-V. Gogolyu: muzïka D. Shostakovicha [The Nose: opera in 3 acts, 10 scenes after Gogol, music by Shostakovich] (Leningrad, 1930) [pamphlet; articles by Shostakovich and N. Malkov, with lib of ‘The Nose’]
    • ‘Nos’, opera v 3-kh aktakh po N.-V. Gogolyu: 15-ye sochineniye D. Shostakovicha [The Nose: opera in 3 acts after Gogol: Shostakovich’s op.15] (Leningrad, 1930) [pamphlet; articles by Shostakovich, I. Sollertinsky and A.N. Dmitriyev]
    • ‘Bolt’, balet v 3 deystviyakh [Bolt, ballet in 3 acts] (Leningrad, 1931) [pamphlet; article by I. Sollertinsky, with lib]
    • ‘Zolotoy vek’, balet v 3 deystviyakh [The Golden Age: ballet in 3 acts] (Leningrad, 1931) [pamphlet; articles by Shostakovich, A.V. Gauk, V. Khodasevich and N. Malkov]
    • A. Ostretsov : ‘“Lėdi Makbet Mtsenskogo uyezda”: opera D. Shostakovicha’, SovM (1933), no.6, pp.9–32
    • ‘Katerina Izmaylova’ (Moscow, 1934) [pamphlet; articles by Shostakovich, V.I. Nemirovich-Danchenko and A. Ostretsov]
    • ‘Lėdi Makbet Mtsenskogo uyezda’ (Leningrad, 1934) [pamphlet; articles by Shostakovich, I. Sollertinsky, B. Asaf′yev and S. Samosud on ‘Lady Macbeth’]
    • ‘Svetlïy ruchey’ (Leningrad, 1935) [pamphlet; articles by Shostakovich, M. Druskin and Yu. Slonimsky on ‘The Limpid Stream’]
    • ‘Baletnaya fal′sh’ [Balletic falsity], Pravda (6 Feb 1936); repr. in SovM (1936), no.2, pp.6–8 [on ‘The Limpid Stream’]
    • A. Pyotrovsky : ‘Lėdi Makbet Mtsenskogo uyezda’ [Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District], Malïy opernïy teatr (1936), 32–43
    • A. Pyotrovsky : ‘Svetlïy ruchey’ [The Limpid Stream], Malïy opernïy teatr (1936), 76–85
    • ‘Sumbur vmesto muzïki: ob opere “Lėḋi Makbet Mtsenskogo Uyezda” D. Shostakovicha’ [Muddle instead of music: on Shostakovich’s opera ‘Lady Macbeth’], Pravda (28 Jan 1936); repr. in SovM (1936), no.2, pp.4–5
    • M. Sabinina : ‘Moskva, Cheryomushki’, SovM (1959), no.4, pp.41–52
    • A. Veprik : ‘Tri orkestrovïye redakstii pervoy kartinï prologa operï Musorgskogo “Boris Godunov”’ [Three orchestral editions of the first scene of the prologue of Musorgsky’s opera ‘Boris Godunov’], Ocherki po voprosam orkestrovïkh stiley (Moscow, 1961, 2/1978), 75–125
    • G. Grigor′yeva : ‘Pervaya opera Shostakovicha “Nos”’ [Shostakovich’s first opera: ‘The Nose’], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 3 (1965), 68–103
    • N. Shumskaya : ‘Traditsiya i novatorstvo v opere Shostakovicha “Katerina Izmaylova”’ [Tradition and innovation in Shostakovich’s opera ‘Katerina Izmaylova’], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 3 (1965), 104–21
    • G. Ordzhonikidze : ‘Gamlet obretayet volyu’ [Hamlet finds the will], SovM (1966), no.8, pp.32–6
    • G. Ordzhonikidze : ‘Vesna tvorcheskoy zrelosti’ [The spring of creative maturity], SovM (1966), no.9, pp.38–48 [on Katerina Izmaylova]
    • V. Gurevich : ‘Shostakovich: redaktor “Khovanshchinï”’ [Shostakovich: the editor of ‘Khovanshchina’], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 7 (Moscow, 1971), 29–68
    • V. Gurevich : ‘Shostakovich v rabote nad “Khovanshchina”’ [Shostakovich at work on ‘Khovanshchina’], Voprosï teorii i ėstetiki muzïki, 11 (1972), 84–108
    • L. Bubennikova : ‘Meyerkhol′d i Shostakovich: iz istorii sozdaniya operï ‘‘Nos”’ [Meyerhold and Shostakovich: the history of the creation of the opera ‘The Nose’], SovM (1973), no.3, pp.43–8
    • A. Bogdanova : ‘Ranniye proizvedeniya Shostakovicha dlya dramaticheskogo teatra’ [Shostakovich’s early works for the theatre], Iz proshlogo sovetskoy muzïkal′noy kul′turï, ed. T. Livanova (Moscow, 1975), 7–34
    • L. Bubennikova : ‘K probleme khudozhestvennogo vzaimodeystviya muzïkal′nogo i dramaticheskogo teatrov’ [On the problem of the artistic interaction of musical and dramatic theatre], Problemï muzïkal′noy nauki, 3 (Moscow, 1975), 38–63 [on ‘The Nose’]
    • S. Nikelberg : ‘Muzïka D. Shostakovicha k kinofil′mu “Gamlet”’ [Shostakovich’s music for the film ‘Hamlet’], Iz istorii russkoy i sovetskoy muzïki, 3 (Moscow, 1978), 234–52
    • A. Bogdanova : Operï i baletï Shostakovicha [Shostakovich’s operas and ballets] (Moscow, 1979)
    • G. Norris : ‘Shostakovich’s The Nose ’, MT, 120 (1979), 393–4
    • E. Fischer : ‘Engagement und ironische Distanz: Schostakowitsch “Ledi Makbet Mzenskowo ujesda”’, Zur Problematik der Opernstruktur: Das künstlerische System und seine Krisis im 20. Jahrhundert (Wiesbaden, 1982), 119–51
    • A. Bretanitskaya : ‘Nos’ D.D. Shostakovicha (Moscow, 1983)
    • A. Bogdanova : ‘O nekotorïkh osobennostiyakh stilya operï D.D. Shostakovicha “Igroki”’ [On some peculiarities of the style of ‘The Gamblers’], Muzïkal′nïÿ sovremennik, 5 (1984), 75–89
    • R.S. Brown : ‘The Three Faces of Lady Macbeth’, Russian and Soviet Music: Essays for Boris Schwarz, ed. M.H. Brown (Ann Arbor, 1984), 245–52
    • L.E. Fay : ‘The Punch in Shostakovich’s Nose ’, Russian and Soviet Music: Essays for Boris Schwarz, ed. M.H. Brown (Ann Arbor, 1984), 229–43
    • ‘“Katerina Izmaylova” D.D. Shostakovicha’, in L.D. Mikhailov: Sem’ glav o teatre (Moscow, 1985), 66–90
    • E. Kröplin : Frühe sowjetische Oper: Schostakowitsch, Prokofjew (Berlin, 1985)
    • N. Beketova : ‘O grotesknoy spetsifike tragediy-satir S. Prokof′yeva i D. Shostakovicha’ [On the grotesque specific character of tragedy-satires by Prokofiev and Shostakovich], Sovetskaya muzïka: problemï simfonizma i muzïkal′nogo teatra, ed. E. Durandina (Moscow, 1988), 101–17
    • L. Micheletti : ‘Dalla Lady Macbeth del distretto di Mcensk di Leskov alla Katerina Izmajlova di Šostakovič: la narrazione melodrammatica e l’opera tragico-satirica’, Forme del melodrammatico: parole e musica 1700–1800, contributi per la storia di un genre, ed. B. Gallo (Milan, 1988), 319–28
    • G. Vinay : ‘S̆ostakovič, la morte e il monaco nero’, NRMI, 15 (1988), 57–69
    • C. Emerson : ‘Back to the Future: Shostakovich’s Revision of Leskov’s “Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk District”’, COJ, 1 (1989), 59–78
    • I. Kharkhuta : ‘K voprosu tonal′nosti v opere D. Shostakovicha “Nos”’ [On the question of tonality in Shostakovich’s opera ‘The Nose’], Problemï muzïkal′noy nauki, 7 (1989), 158–73
    • H. Robinson : ‘The Case of the 3 Russians: Stravinsky, Prokofiev and Shostakovich’, OQ, vi.3 (1989), 59–75
    • R. Taruskin : ‘The Opera and the Dictator: the Peculiar Martyrdom of Dmitri Shostakovich’, The New Republic (20 March 1989), pp.34–40
    • R. Merrill : ‘The Grotesque in Music: Shostakovich’s “Nose”’, Russian Literature Triquarterly (1990), no.23, pp.303–14
    • S. Fitzpatrick : ‘The “Lady Macbeth” Affair: Shostakovich and the Soviet Puritans’, The Cultural Front: Power and Culture in Revolutionary Russia (Ithaca, 1992), 183–215
    • M. Fuchs : Ledi Makbet Mcenskogo uezda: vergleichende analyse der Erzählung N.S. Leskovs und der gleichnamigen Oper D.D. Šostakovičs (Heidelberg, 1992)
    • I. Rayskin : ‘Kak teatr Kirova ne stal teatr Shostakovicha: dokumental′noye povestvovaniye’ [How the Kirov Theatre didn’t become the Shostakovich Theatre: a story in documents], Ars Peterburg: ‘Mariinsky, vchera, segodnya, vsegda’ (St Petersburg, 1993), 94–101
    • A. Tumanov : ‘Correspondence of Literary Text and Musical Phraseology in Shostakovich’s opera “The Nose” and Gogol’s Fantastic Tale’, Russian Review, 52/3 (1993), 397–414
    • L. Hakopian : ‘Kontrapunkt “syuzhetov” v opere Shostakovicha “Nos”’ [The counterpoint of ‘topics’ in ‘The Nose’], Analiz glubinnoy strukturï muzïkal′nogo teksta (Moscow, 1995), 151–65
    • M. Yakubov : ‘Shostakovich’s First Ballet: the History of its Creation and Stage Fate’, The Golden Age (Moscow, 1995), 224–7 [essay in piano score of ‘The Golden Age’, op.22]
    • M. Yakubov, ed.: Dmitry Shostakovich ‘Lėdi Makbet Mtsenskogo uyezda’: vozrozhdeniye shedevra (Moscow, 1996)
    • M. Yakubov : ‘“The Bolt”: an Unknown Ballet by Dmitri Shostakovich’, The Bolt (Moscow, 1996), 269–76 [essay in piano score of ‘The Bolt’, op.27]
    • E. Akulov : Tri Borisa: sravnitel′nïy analiz partitur operï ‘‘Boris Godunov” Musorgskogo, Rimskogo-Korsakova i Shostakovicha [Three Borises: a comparative analysis of the scores of the opera ‘Boris Godunov’ by Musorgsky, Rimsky-Korsakov and Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1997)
    • I. Barsova : ‘“The Limpid Stream”: Is the Third Ballet by Dmitry Shostakovich’, The Limpid Stream (Moscow, 1997), 218–222 [essay in piano score of ‘The Limpid Stream’ op.39]
    • Yu. Dmitrin : ‘Nam ne dano predugadat′ …’: razmïshleniya o libretto operï D. Shostakovicha ‘Lėdi Makbet Mtsenskogo uyezda’ [It is not given to us to predict: reflections on the libretto of ‘Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District’] (St. Petersburg, 1997)
    • I. Rïzhkin : ‘O sushchnosti operï “Nos”: ot pokaza v 1929 godu k predshestvuyushchemu i posleduyushchemu’ [On the essence of the opera ‘The Nose’: from the demonstration in 1929 to the preceding and the subsequent], MAk (1997), no.1, pp.83–95
    • R. Taruskin : ‘Entr’acte: the Lessons of Lady M.’, Defining Russia Musically: Historical and Hermeneutical Essays (Princeton, 1997), 498–510
    • J. Morgan : ‘Interview with “The Nose”: Shostakovich’s Adaptation of Gogol’, Intersections and Transpositions: Russian Music, Literature, and Society, ed. A.B. Wachtel (Evanston, IL, 1998), 111–37
    F: Orchestral works
    • M. Druskin : Pervaya simfoniya Dm. Shostakovicha (Leningrad, 1938) [on Sym. no.1]
    • A. Shaverdyan : Sed′maya simfoniya D. Shostakovicha [Shostakovich’s Seventh Symphony] (Yerevan, 1942)
    • B. Asaf′yev : ‘Vos′maya simfoniya Shostakovicha’, Moskovskaya filarmoniya (Moscow, 1945); repr. in Izbranniye trudï, v, ed. T.N. Livanova and others (Moscow, 1957), 132–5 [on Sym. no.8]
    • ‘Znachitel′noye yavleniye sovetskoy muzïki: diskussiya o desyatoy simfonii D. Shostakovicha’ [A significant occurrence in Soviet music: debate about Shostakovich’s Tenth Symphony], SovM (1954), no.6, pp.119–34 [Composers’ Union report]
    • D. Oystrakh : ‘Voploshcheniye bol′shogo zamïsla: o skripichnom kontserte Shostakovicha’ [The realization of a great project; on Shostakovich’s (First) Violin Concerto], SovM (1956), no.7, pp.3–10; Ger. trans. in Sowjetwissenschaft, Kunst und Literatur, iv (1956), 877–85
    • L. Lebedinsky : ‘Revolyutsionnïÿ fol′klor v odinnadtsatoy simfonii D. Shostakovisha’ [Revolutionary folklore in Shostakovich’s Symphony no.11], SovM (1958), no.1, pp.42–9
    • M. Sabinina : Skripichnïÿ kontsert D. Shostakovicha [Shostakovich’s Violin Concerto (no.1)] (Moscow, 1958)
    • I. Postnikov : Vtoroy fortep′yannïÿ kontsert Shostakovicha (Moscow, 1959) [on Pf Conc. no.2]
    • V. Protopopov : ‘O yedinstve tsikla v Odinnadtsatoy simfonii “1905 god” D.D. Shostakovicha’ [On the cyclic unity in Shostakovich’s Symphony no.11], Soobshcheniya Instituta istorii iskusstv, 15 (1959), 23–35
    • T. Boganova : Violonchel′nïy kontsert D. Shostakovicha [Shostakovich’s (First) Cello Concerto] (Moscow, 1960)
    • L. Lebedinsky : Sed′maya i odinnadtsataya simfonii D. Shostakovicha [The Seventh and Eleventh symphonies of Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1960)
    • L. Mazel′ : Simfonii D.D. Shostakovicha [Shostakovich’s symphonies] (Moscow, 1960)
    • L. Berger : Odinnadtsataya simfoniya D.D. Shostakovicha (Moscow, 1961) [on Sym. no.11]
    • G. Orlov : Simfonii Shostakovicha (Moscow, 1961–2)
    • V. Bobrovsky : ‘Programmnïy simfonizm Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s programmatic symphonic writing], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 3 (1965), 32–67
    • M. Sabinina : Simfonizm Shostakovicha: put′ k zrelosti [Shostakovich’s symphonies: his path to maturity] (Moscow, 1965)
    • G. Ordzhonikidze : ‘“Kazn′ Stepana Razina” D.D. Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s ‘The Execution of Stepan Razin’], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 4 (Moscow, 1966), 186–215
    • A. Schnittke : ‘Zametki ob orkestrovoy polifonii v Chetvyortoy simfonii D.D. Shostakovicha’ [Remarks on the orchestral polyphony in Shostakovich’s Fourth Symphony], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 4 (1966), 127–61
    • T. Souster : ‘Shostakovich at the Crossroads’, Tempo, no.78 (1966), 2–9 [on Syms. nos. 4–5]
    • B. Yarustovsky : ‘“Voyennïye’’ simfonii D. Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s ‘war’ symphonies], Simfonii o voyne i mire (Moscow, 1966), 27–94
    • V. Bobrovsky : ‘Programmnïy simfonizm Shostakovicha, stat′ya vtoraya, o trinadtsatoy simfonii’ [Shostakovich’s programmatic symphonic writing, part 2, on Symphony no.13], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 5 (1967), 38–73
    • T. Levaya : ‘Devyataya simfoniya Shostakovicha’, Muzïka i sovremennost′, 5 (1967), 3–37 [on Sym. no.9]
    • G. Reinäcker and V. Reisling : Die 11. und 12. Sinfonie von Dmitri Schostakowitsch (Berlin, 1970)
    • L. Ginzburg : ‘Violonchel′nïye kontsertï Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s cello concertos], Issledovaniya, stat′i, ocherki (Moscow, 1971), 158–78
    • T. Leye : ‘O zhanrovoy prirode Odinnadtsatoy Simfonii D. Shostakovicha’ [On the nature of the genre of Symphony no.11], Iz istorii russkoy i sovetskoy muzïki, ed. A. Kandinsky (Moscow, 1971), 94–109
    • G. Orlov : ‘Simfonizm Shostakovicha na perelome’ [Shostakovich’s symphonic writing at a turning point], Voprosï teorii i ėstetiki muzïki, 10 (1971), 3–31 [on the music written during the 1960s]
    • M. Aranovsky : ‘Problema zhanra v vokal′no-instrumental′nïkh simfoniyakh D. Shostakovicha 60-kh godov’ [The problem of genre in Shostakovich’s vocal-instrumental symphonies of the 1960s], Vosprosi teorii i ėstetiki muzïkï, 12 (1973) 61–96
    • H. Lindlar : ‘Spätstil? Zu Schostakowitschs Sinfonien 13–15’, SMz, 113 (1973), 340–45
    • M.H. Brown : ‘The Soviet Russian Concepts of “Intonatsiya” and “Musical Imagery”’, MQ, 60 (1974), 557–67 [on the 1st movt of Sym. no.7]
    • K. Körner : ‘Schostakowitschs Vierte Sinfonie’, AMw, 31 (1974), 116–36, 214–36
    • G. Ordzhonikidze : ‘O chetïrnadtsatoy simfonii Dmitriya Shostakovicha i yego sochineniyakh kontsa 60-kh–nachala 70-kh godov’ [On Symphony no.14 and works of the late 1960s and early 1970s], Sotsialisticheskaya muzïkal′naya kul′tura: traditsii, problemï, perspektivï, ed. G. Ordzhonikidze and Yu. El′sner (Moscow, 1974), 105–38
    • M. Sabinina : Shostakovich-simfonist: dramaturgiya, ėstetika, stil′ [Shostakovich as symphonist: dramaturgy, aesthetics, style] (Moscow, 1976)
    • M. Aranovsky : ‘Pyatnadtsataya simfoniya D. Shostakovicha i nekotorïye voprosï muzïkal′noy semantiki’ [Shostakovich’s Fifteenth Symphony and some questions of musical semantics], Voprosï teorii i ėstetiki muzïki, 15 (1977), 55–94, abridged Ger. trans. in Sowjetische Musik: Betrachtungen und Analysen, ed. H. Gerlach (Berlin, 1984), 10–19
    • H. Ottaway : Shostakovich Symphonies (London, 1978)
    • S. Volkor: ‘D.D. Shostakovich i N.A. Mal′ko’ [Shostakovich and Malko], Slavica Hierosolymitana, 3 (1978), 264–71, rev. trans. as ‘Dmitri Shostakovich and “Tea for Two”’, MQ, lxiv (1978), 223–8
    • Yu. Paysov : ‘Pyatnadtsataya simfoniya D.D. Shostakovicha’, Muzïkal′nïy sovremennik, 3 (Moscow, 1979), 5–38 [on Sym. no.15]
    • A. Tsuker : ‘Traditsii muzïkal′nogo teatra Musorgskogo v simfonischeskom tvorchestve Shostakovicha’ [The traditions of Musorgsky’s musical theatre in the symphonic works of Shostakovich], Muzïkal′nïy sovremennik, 3 (Moscow, 1979), 39–74
    • I. Lavrent′yeva : ‘O vzaimodeystvii slova i muzïki v sovetskoy vokal′noy simfonii 60–70kh godov: na primere tvorchestva D. Shostakovicha, M. Vaynberga, A. Lokshina’ [On the interaction of words and music in the Soviet vocal symphony of the 1960s and 70s: based on the work of Shostakovich, Weinberg and Lokshin], Problemï muzïkal′noy nauki, 6 (1985), 72–109; vii (1989), 5–35
    • M. Lobanova : ‘Kontsertnïÿe printsipï D. Shostakovicha v svete problem sovremennoy dialogistiki’ [Shostakovich’s concerto principles in light of the problems of contemporary dialogistics], Problemï muzïkal′noy nauki, 6 (1985), 110–29
    • V. Bibergan : ‘Udarnïye instrumentï v pyatnadtsatoy simfonii D. Shostakovicha’ [Percussion instruments in Shostakovich’s 15th Symphony], Orkestrovïye stili v russkoy muzïke: sbornik statey, ed. V. Tsïtovich (Leningrad, 1987), 106–15, 198–205
    • D. Fanning : The Breath of the Symphonist: Shostakovich’s Tenth (London, 1988)
    • A. Shirinsky : Skripichnïye proizvedeniya D. Shostakovicha [Violin works of Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1988)
    • F. Tammaro : Le sinfonie di Šostakovič (Turin, 1988)
    • L. Berezovchuk : ‘Funktsional′no-semioticheskiy podkhod k teorii zhanra: analiz rabotï kompozitora s zhanrom na osnovanii simfonicheskogo naslediya D.D. Shostakovicha ’ [Functional-semiotic approach to the theory of genre: an analysis of a composer’s work with genre based on the symphonic legacy of Shostakovich], Sovetskaya muzïka 70–80-kh godov: ėstetika, teoriya, praktika, ed. A. Porfir′yeva (Leningrad, 1989), 4–31
    • J. Wildberger : Schostakowitsch 5. Symphonie d-moll (Munich, 1989)
    • J.D. Huband : ‘Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony: a Soviet Artist’s Reply …?’, Tempo, no.173 (1990), 11–16
    • K. Kopp : Form und Gehalt der Symphonien des Dmitrij Schostakowitsch (Bonn, 1990)
    • F. Schneider : ‘Wovon “spricht” Schostakowitsch? Ein semantischer Versuch zur 10. Sinfonie’, BMw, 32 (1990), 284–7
    • S. Khentova : ‘Shostakovich: Trinadtsataya Simfoniya’ [Shostakovich: Thirteenth Symphony], Muzïkal′naya zhizn′ (1991), nos.15–16, pp.12–14, 24; (1991), nos.17–18, pp.12–14
    • E. Murphy : ‘A Programme for the first Movement of Shostakovich’s Fifteenth Symphony: “a Debate about Four Musical Styles”’, MR, 53 (1992), 47–62
    • M. Yakubov : Preface to Symphony no.7 ‘Leningrad’ (Tokyo, 1992) [essay in score of Symphony no.7, op.60]
    • S. Weiss : ‘Text und Form in Schostakowitschs 2. Sinfonie op.14’, AMw, 51 (1994), 145–60
    • G. Wolter : ‘“Die Abrechnung mit dem Tyrannen”: Versteckte Programmatik in der Zehnten Sinfonie von Dimitri Schostakowitsch’, Das Orchester, 42/5 (1994), 18–22
    • S. Chentowa : Dmitri Schostakowitschs Babij Jar: die 13. Sinfonie (Berlin, 1996)
    • V. Katayev : ‘Trudnaya doroga k Trinadtsatoy’ [The hard road to the Thirteenth], Muzïkal′naya zhizn′ (1996), nos.7–8, pp.34–5
    • S. Khentova : Plamya Bab′ego Yara: Trinadtsataya simfoniya D.D. Shostakovicha [The flame of Babiy Yar: Shostakovich’s Thirteenth Symphony] (St Petersburg, 1997)
    • M. Koball : Pathos und Groteske: die deutsche Tradition im symphonischen Schaffen von Dmitri Schostakowitsch (Berlin, 1997)
    • I. Nemirovskaya : ‘Chaykovskiy i Shostakovich: k probleme konflikta v simfonii’ [Tchaikovsky and Shostakovich: on the issue of conflict in the symphonies], Muzïkal′naya kul′tura: vek xix–vek xx, ed. I. Nemirovskaya (Moscow, 1998), 95–107
    G: Vocal works
    • L. Lebedinsky : Khorovïye poėmï Shostakovicha [Shostakovich’s choral poems] (Moscow, 1957)
    • L. Polyakova : Vokal′nïy tsikl D. Shostakovicha ‘Iz Yevreyskoy narodnoy poėzii’ [Shostakovich’s vocal cycle ‘From Jewish Folk Poetry’] (Moscow, 1957)
    • V. Bobrovsky : Pesni i khorï Shostakovicha [The songs and choruses of Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1962)
    • E. Mnatsakanova : ‘O tsikle Shostakovicha “Sem′ romansov na stikhi Aleksandra Bloka”’ [On Shostakovich’s cycle ‘Seven Romances on Poems of Aleksandr Blok’], Muzïka i sovremennost′, 7 (1971), 69–87
    • T. Kurïsheva : ‘Blokovskiy tsikl D. Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s Blok cycle], Blok i muzïka (Moscow and Leningrad, 1972), 214–28
    • E. Dobrïkin : ‘Muzïkal′naya satira v vokal′nom tvorchestve D. Shostakovicha ’ [Musical satire in the vocal works of Shostakovich], Problemï muzïkal′noy nauki, 3 (Moscow, 1975), 17–34
    • N. Salnis : ‘Sotsial′nïy kharakter satïrï D.D. Shostakovicha’ [The social character of Shostakovich’s satire], Muzïka v sotsialisticheskom obshchestve, ed. A.N. Sokhor and others, 2 (Leningrad, 1975), 89–101
    • T. Levaya : ‘Tayna velikogo iskusstva: O pozdnikh kamerno-vokal′nikh tsiklakh D.D. Shostakovicha’ [The secret of great art: on the late chamber-vocal works of Shostakovich], Muzïka Rossi: muzïkal′naye tvorchestvo i muzïkal′naya zhizn′ respublik Rossiyskoy Federatsii, 1975–6, ii, ed. Ye. Grosheva (Moscow, 1978), 291–328
    • N. Spektor : ‘“Sonet 66” Shekspira v tvorchestve D. Shostakovicha: k probleme mezhduopusnïkh svyazey’ [Shakespeare’s ‘Sonnet 66’ in the work of Shostakovich: towards the problem of inter-opus connections], Iz istorii russkoy i sovetskoy muzïki, ed. A. Kandinsky, 3 (Moscow, 1978), 210–18
    • V. Vasina-Grossman : ‘Kamerno-vokal′noye tvorchestvo D. Shostakovicha’ [The chamber-vocal works of Shostakovich], Sovetskaya muzïkal′naya kul′tura: istoriya, traditsii, sovremennost′, ed. D. Daragan (Moscow, 1980), 15–42
    • V. Vasina-Grossman : ‘Shostakovich’, Mastera sovetskogo romansa (Moscow, 2/1980), 218–54
    • I. Brezhneva : ‘Formirovaniye vokal′nogo stilya Shostakovicha na primere rannikh sochineniy “Basni Krïlova” i Shest′ romansov yaponskikh poėtov’ [The formation of Shostakovich’s vocal style on the example of early works: ‘Two Fables of Krïlov’ and ‘Six Romances on Texts of Japanese Poets’], Problemï stilevogo obnovleniya v russkoy klassicheskoy i sovetskoy muzïke (Moscow, 1983), 53–70
    • N. Ogarkova : ‘Nekotorïye osobennosti vzaimodeystviya poėzii i muzïki v pozdnikh kamerno-vokal′nïkh tsiklakh D. Shostakovicha’ [Some features of the interaction between poetry and music in Shostakovich’s late chamber-vocal cycles], Muzïkal′naya klassika i sovremennost′: voprosï istorii i ėstetiki, ed. A. Porfir′yeva (Leningrad, 1983), 25–33
    • J. Braun : ‘Shostakovich’s Song Cycle “From Jewish Folk Poetry”: Aspects of Style and Meaning’, Russian and Soviet Music: Essays for Boris Schwarz, ed. M.H. Brown (Ann Arbor, 1984), 259–86
    • V. Voskoboynikov : ‘Slovo v tvorchestve Dmitriya Shostakovicha’ [The word in the work of Shostakovich], Laboratorio degli studi linguistici, 1 (1984), 43–91
    • L. Micheletti : ‘I cicli vocali di Šostakovič dell’ultimo periodo su testi di Aleksandr Blok e Marina Cvetaeva’, Laboratorio degli studi linguistici, 2 (1985), 107–22
    • M. Aranovsky : ‘Veka svyazuyushchaya nit′: o syuite dlya basa i fortepiano “Sonetï Mikelandzhelo Buonarroti” D. Shostakovicha’ [The connecting thread of the age: on Shostakovichs’s suite for bass and piano ‘Sonnets of Michelangelo Buonarroti’], Novaya zhizn′: traditsii v sovetskoy muzïke: stat′i, interv′yu (Moscow, 1989), 207–72
    • J. Braun : ‘Shostakovich’s Jewish Songs’, From Jewish Folk Poetry (Tel-Aviv, 1989) [essay in vocal score of ‘From Jewish Folk Poetry’, op.79]
    • A.N. Dmitriyev : ‘Syuita na stikhi Mikelandzhelo Buonarroti dlya basa i fortepiano D. Shostakovicha’ [Suite on verses of Michelangelo Buonarroti], Issledovaniya, stat′i, nablyudeniya (Leningrad, 1989), 87–99
    • L.N. Lebedinsky : ‘The Origin of Shostakovich’s “Rayok”’, Tempo, no.173 (June 1990), 31–2
    • C. MacDonald : ‘The Anti-Formalist “Rayok”, Learners Start Here!’, Tempo, no.173 (1990), 23–30
    • K. Niemöller : ‘Robert Schumanns Cellokonzert in der Instrumentation von Dmitri Schostakowitsch: ein Beitrag zur Schumann-Rezeption in der Sowjetunion’, Beiträge zur Geschichte des Konzerts: Festschrift Siegfried Kross, ed. R. Emans and M.Wendt (Bonn, 1990), 411–21
    • D. Redepenning : ‘Autobiographische Reflexionen: Schostakowitschs Zwetajewa-Zyklus, op.143’, Musica, 44 (1990), 164–8
    • M. Stille : ‘Der Virtuose mit der Narrenkappe: Dmitri Schostakowitsch und sein Konzert c-moll für Klavier, Trompete und Streichorchester op.35’, Beiträge zur Geschichte des Konzerts: Festschrift Siegfried Kross, ed. R. Emans and M. Wendt (Bonn, 1990), 399–410
    • M. Tsirkunova : ‘Ranniye romansï Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s early Romances], Muzïkal′naya zhizn′ (1990), no.15, pp.13–14
    • M. Yakubov : ‘Dmitri Schostakowitschs “Antiformalistischer Rajok”’, Sowjetische Musik im Licht der Perestroika, ed. H. Danuser, H. Gerlach and J. Köchel (Laaber, 1990), 171–91
    • A. Beaujean : ‘“Trauer über eine verlorene Vergangenheit”: zur Romanzen-Suite op.127 von Dmitri Schostakowitsch’, Bayerische Akademie der Schönen Künste, 6 (1992), 490–96
    • M. Yakubov : ‘“Antiformalisticheskiy rayok” D.D. Shostakovicha: istoriya sozdaniya, istochniki muzïkal′nogo i literaturnogo teksta’ [Shostakovich’s anti-formalist Rayok: history of its creation, sources of its musical and literary text], Anti-Formalist Rayok (Moscow, 1995), 50–62 [essay in vocal score of ‘Anti-Formalist Rayok’]
    • K. Grönke : ‘Kunst und Künstler in Šostakovičs späten Gedichtvertonungen’, AMw, 53 (1996), 290–335
    • T. and J. Langen : ‘Music and Poetry: The Case of Shostakovich and Blok’, Intersections and Transpositions: Russian Music, Literature, and Society, ed. A.B. Wachtel (Evanston, IL, 1998), 138–64
    H: Chamber music
    • A. Nikolayev : ‘Fortepiannaya muzïka D.D. Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s piano music], Voprosï muzïkoznaniya, 2, ed. A.S. Ogolevets (Moscow, 1956), 112–34
    • Yu. Keldïsh : ‘Avtobiograficheskiy kvartet’ [An autobiographical quartet], SovM (1960), no.12, pp.19–23; Eng. trans. in MT, cii (1961), 226–8 [on Str Qt no.8]
    • A. Yusfin : Shestoy kvartet Shostakovicha (Moscow, 1960) [on Str Qt no.6]
    • V. Bobrovsky : Kamernïye instrumental′nïye ansambli Shostakovicha [Shostakovich’s instrumental chamber music] (Moscow, 1961)
    • C. Mason : ‘Form in Shostakovich’s Quartets’, MT, 103 (1962), 531–3
    • A. Dolzhansky : 24 prelyudii i fugi D. Shostakovicha (Leningrad, 1963, 2/1970)
    • A. Dolzhansky : Kamernïye instrumental′niye proizvedeniya D. Shostakovicha [Instrumental chamber works] (Moscow, 1965/R); repr. in A. Dolzhansky: Izbrannïye stat′i (Leningrad, 1973), 120–51
    • E. Ovchinnikov : ‘Vtoraya fortepiannaya sonata Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s Second Piano Sontata], Voprosï teorii muzïki, i, ed. S. Skrebkov (Moscow, 1968), 239–65
    • V. Zaderatsky : Polifoniya v instrumental′nïkh proizvedeniyakh D. Shostakovicha [Polyphony in the instrumental works of Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1969)
    • H. Keller : ‘Shostakovich’s Twelfth Quartet’, Tempo, no.94 (1970), 6–15
    • V. Del′son : Fortepiannoye tvorchestvo D.D. Shostakovicha [The piano works of Shostakovich] (Moscow, 1971)
    • E. Ochs : ‘Bemerkungen zum Streichquartettschaffen Dmitri Schostakowitchs’, Colloquium musica Cameralis, ed. R. Pécman (Brno, 1971), 455–70
    • V. Del′son : ‘Interpretatsiya fortepiannïkh proizvedeniy Shostakovicha’ [The interpretation of Shostakovich’s piano works], Muzïkal′noye ispolnitel′stvo: vos′moy sbornik statey (Moscow, 1973), 57–74
    • N. O’Loughlin : ‘Shostakovich’s String Quartets’, MT, 115 (1974), 744–6
    • N. Kuz′mina : ‘O kvartetnom tvorchestve Shostakovicha’ [On Shostakovich’s string quartets], Analiz, kontseptsii, kritika, ed. L. Dan′ko (Leningrad, 1977), 5–19
    • J. Maróthy : ‘Harmonic Disharmony: Shostakovich’s Quintet’, SMH, 19 (1977), 325–48
    • V. Bobrovsky : ‘Posledneye sochineniye Shostakovicha’ [Shostakovich’s last composition], Problemï muzïkal′noy nauki, 6 (1985), 55–71
    • M. Yakubov : ‘Lirika i grotesk: k istorii sozdaniya “Dvukh p′yes dlya strunnogo kvarteta”’ [Lyricism and the grotesque: towards the creation of ‘2 Pieces for String Quartet’], Muzïkal′naya zhizn′ (1986), no.18, pp.15–16
    • M. Yakubov : ‘Neizvestnoye proizvedeniye D.D. Shostakovicha: Moderato dlya violoncheli i fortepiano’ [An Unknown Work by Shostakovich: Moderato for violoncello and piano], SovM (1986), no.9, pp.45–8
    • M. Biesold : Dmitrij Schostakowitsch: Klaviermusik der Neuen Sachlichkeit (Wittmund, 1988)
    • J. Drury : ‘Traditionalism in Shostakovich’s Fifteenth String Quartet’, South African Journal of Musicology, 10 (1990), 9–32
    • F. Tammaro : ‘I quartetti di Šostakovič’, NRMI, 25 (1991), 30–53
    • M. Kustov : Fortepiannïye kamerno-instrumental′nïye ansambli D. Shostakovicha: kontseptual′nïy aspekt i problemï interpretatsii [Shostakovich’s chamber works with piano: the conceptual aspect and problems of interpretation] (Saratov, 1996)
  1. See also from The New Grove Dictionary of Opera: Gamblers, the; Katerina izmaylova; Lady macbeth of the mtsensk district; and Nose, the.

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