Seattle Symphony "Shostakovich Untuxed" Jan. 31, 2014

It's slightly unsettling, but also refreshing, to watch the orchestra walk on stage dressed in jeans and Seattle Seahawks jerseys.  The audience moseys its way in, dressed in similar garb, and one of the bassists gives a little, rambling introduction before the conductor and soloist enter, no less informally dressed.  There is applause between movements and no intermission.

This is the Seattle Symphony "Untuxed" program.  It is intended to coax in those who wouldn't normally be comfortable with the formalized setting of most classical works.

Dmitri Shostakovich is a composer for whom my respect has been continually growing in the last few years.  There is, as is often the case with music I enjoy, a startling originality in all of his work, something which announces "Shostakovich!" in his own voice.  It is discord in accordance; it requires absolute cooperation in order to achieve chaos.  One of the things I love most is his highly unique combinations of instruments; the bassoon is a particularly favored instrument in his hands, and the brass certainly get their day, as well.  Often the lower strings receive more melodic importance than the violins, and the strings as a whole have an interesting effect when used percussively.  Nothing sounds like anything written before--piano included.

The pianist of the night, Alexander Melnikov, is not particularly creative in his approach, at least to my ears, nor is his virtuosity anything beyond the norm of what is expected from today's concert pianists.  However, his treatment of Shostakovich was top-notch.  It was as if he were playing a harpsichord comprised of orchestral bells.  There was a thin resonance which makes the sparkling notes required in this concerto absolutely pristine.  I'm glad I was able to hear his interpretation of this piece.

The first movement begins, as often is the case, with a comic bassoon, and proceeds almost directly into a simple piano melody which subsequently transforms into a military march as played out by tin soldiers.  It is so absurdly tongue-in-cheek that it almost becomes bitter and ironic, particularly when the piano begins a series of large, pounding chords throughout which one can almost hear Shostakovich mocking his audience a bit.  My favorite part in this movement is about 3/4 of the way through, with the full orchestra synchronized in countrapunctally yet not harmonically cohesive chords.  How does harmony work so counter to that codified by Western standards, and yet manage not to stagnate?

The second movement, which begins with an abrupt change to very melodic strings and a very pure, achingly melancholic Bach-like organ harmony, sets a tense stage and then...the piano enters, in the major, yet heart-breakingly so.  Solemnity and insanity fight each other for front stage; the depth of the basses and lack of high tessitura hint at the depression which S. Richter would later comment upon in recollection.  An incredibly exquisite piece of music; I highly recommend an isolated listening, free from distraction.

The humor returns in the fast third movement with a jolting rhythmic scheme and slightly Spanish character.  Here, the piano is undoubtedly "center stage", with precise, skipping runs and conversations with the rest of the orchestra.  It starts and ends in frenzy.

I have not yet had had time to study Shostakovich's music, but when I do, there are three main things I want to look into deeply: 1) harmonic scheme, 2) spacing of voices and 3) instrumentation.  When I do begin this study, I may begin with this piece.  It was a delight to listen to, and most delightful to listen to again.

-G