Chris Bonds responds to me: >>Contrast this with Kondrashin's studio recording [of Sym 13], which nails >>the listener to the wall with what sounds like every basso in the Soviet >>Union rounded up and singing like his life depended upon it. (Maybe it >>did!) > >I've done a bit of searching for this (either the premiere or the studio) >and found a used Everest stereo which was offered in response to my request >for "Shostakovich Symphony 13 "Babi Yar", Moscow Philharmonic, Kondrashin, >Russian Disc # 11191 [the premiere recording I think]. Do you know >anything about this Everest disc? Is it really stereo? The Everest disc is electronically rechanneled stereo. It was produced from a mono tape of the 1st night premiere concert smuggled out of the Soviet Union. Because the 2 concerts of the premiere series were given under a cloud of disapproval from the authorities, the "official" recording of the 2nd night performance, which was taped by Moscow Radio in genuine two-channel stereo, remained locked away in a vault somewhere. Officially, one might say, it didn't exist. In the aftermath of the breakup of the Soviet Union, the Russian Disc company located the master tape and obtained clearance to release it commercially. It is not perfect by any means. The sound engineer does a lot of level adjusting as the Symphony progresses, and the Russian Disc remastering does not completely do away with the audible artifacts of knob-twisting. Nevertheless, it is an absolutely spellbinding performance. Remember that the premiere was planned at first to be conducted by Mravinsky and the bass soloist was (I forget the name) to be a leading singer of the Bolshoi. As news of the rehearsals spread around, the Word came down to Yevtushenko, the author of the texts: revise or cancel. Yevtushenko and Shostakovich refused. Within days of the performance, under tremendous pressure from the government, Mravinsky withdrew--Shostakovich never really forgave the conductor for this. Kirill Kondrashin agreed to step in, so that the show could go on. Next to be pressured was the soloist, who, then, also withdrew. Vitaly Gromadsky was the young basso who was asked to learn this incredibly involved and difficult music literally hours before the performance, which he did with the direct coaching from the composer. The actual performance is a hair-raising, seat of the pants explosion of emotion. The singing of Gromadsky is nothing short of phenomenal: very emotional; scenery-chewing histrionics and all; but it works. The male choir and orchestra play their hearts out, too. All in all, this is one of the great recordings of the 20th century. A few years later Kondrashin persuaded the Melodiya brass and the Kultur ministry to allow a studio recording of Babi Yar. This time, Kondrashin accepted a minor modification of the Yevtushenko text to gain permission for the recording. This studio effort is even finer, if you can believe it, with a consistent analog stereo taping, an equally fine--if more musically controlled soloist--and an even greater male chorus. I would not be without both discs: the Russian Disc for the unforgettable atmosphere of the 1962 premiere, and the BMG/Melodiya for the better balance of musical values vs. raw emotion, and a better recording. Regards, John M. Proffitt General Manager & C.E.O. Radio Station KUHF-FM