I learned and can still recite parts of "Babi Yar" in Russian. A magnificent poem well set by Shostakovich. My review below touches on your concern for the ignorance of your neighbor. But the clouds of obscurity, burdened by renewed injustices and holocausts, will win out in the end. But after we're gone. SYMPHONY Whipped Cream on the Coffins San Francisco Symphony Mstislav Rostropovich Alexander Barantschik (4/1/06) Some of the lightest and darkest music ever written by Dmitri Shostakovich was in store for patrons of the second San Francisco Symphony program honoring the centennial of his birth. Visiting conductor Mstislav Rostropovich doled out to them a trifold measure of the man, from frothy dance trivialities supplied by a paid professional (Suite No. 1 for Jazz Orchestra, 1934); to morose and bitter musings dedicated to a soloist friend (Violin Concerto No. 2, 1967); to a ponderous outcry for justice against bodily and psychic murderers (Symphony No. 13, 1962). The result was far from pleasant (the thin layer of whipped cream on the coffins did no good), but nevertheless enobling, especially considering the immensely committed performances of all involved. The "Jazz Orchestra" consisted of 16 instruments placed on the left side of the stage. All were common to popular American bands of the late twenties, including a banjo, three saxophones, one violin, one bass, brass and percussion. One exception was the inclusion of a then-newfangled Hawaiian guitar. What they played was a waltz, genteel polka, and slow fox-trot cum tango, all of music-hall-quality. The debut of Don Ho into the last movement drew snickers from the crowd, but was probably a sensation in 1934. Contravening graces The Second Violin Concerto is an elusive, obsessive and profound work. It is elusive because of its thematic and dynamic understatement, and lack of contrast between the first two movements. It is obsessive because of its prevalent undercurrent of low bass lines, its constant reference to a da-da da rhythmic figure, and focus on two-part counterpoint as the main strategy for musical argument. But is it profound, and it is to the credit of Rostropovich and especially, soloist and Concertmaster Alexander Barantschik, that the depth and beauty of the conception was revealed. The profundity evolves from the challenge posed by the obsessive constraints and the success by which the saving graces of orchestration, pacing and tone production contravene them. Throughout, Rostropovich carefully passed the secondary melodic line from instrument to instrument; meanwhile, through richness and varying intensity of tone, Barantschik kept the focus on the seemingly meandering melodic lines until their structure became apparent. The highlight of concert, as it turned out, came near the conclusion of the second movement, where wisps of glissando accompaniment in the violas, thanks to Rostropovich's nuanced direction, sank like mold spores on a grave. After two movements of troubled resignation, the bitter sarcasm and nihilism of the finale was a splash of cold water, but consistent with the theme of an ungentle good night. To a standing ovation from the appreciative home crowd, the kisses and bear hug provided Barantschik by Rostropovich were supremely well deserved. Like the endless rainy days that have plagued the Bay Area lately, the second half of the concert provided little change in the gloomy musical weather. Depth and sincerity of utterance remained throughout a sad tour of the concerns weighing down Russian society in the early 1960s, poignantly depicted in five poems by Yevgeny Yevtushenko. The work had great political and moral significance in its time, and will continue to do so for a while. The fact remains, however, that the music alone will determine its ultimate fate in the repertoire. The symphony has some barriers to success. The texts are wordy and there are five movements of them. Concerns for word painting counteract those of structural and motivic cohesiveness prevalent in "pure," abstract symphonic form. Thus it becomes all too easy to perceive it as rambling. If taken in too deliberate a manner, the contrast between movements may be sacrificed, turning the symphony into a slog. Not very funny Rostropovich, consistent with the way he has conducted other Shostakovich symphonies, was very deliberate. While thus reducing the contrast between movements, he at least compensated for this by emphasizing contrasts within movements. Hence the tremendous climaxes in the work came off very powerfully, especially in the first movement ("Babi Yar") where Russian thugs are beating a Jew and later where Nazis are pounding on Anne Frank's door. But the "Humor" movement so stolidly approached offered little of its title. Little but the text seemed to contrast the following two movements "In the Store" and "Fears." Only in the finale did Rostropovich's careful approach pay dividends in the clarity of the pizzicato and fugal sections. The men of the San Francisco Symphony chorus did a fine job of singing and pronouncing the Russian words. The bass soloist, Mikhail Petrenko, was highly expressive and on pitch, but his voice was not meaty enough to match Rostropovich's heavy interpretation of the symphony. For what it's worth, a more satisfactory program overall would have substituted Shostakovich's 1964 cantata The Execution of Stenka Razin for the symphony. This underrated work has better melodies, more energy, and would make a better partner for the Second Violin Concerto because the two works, while highly contrasting, have several musical motives in common. The program could start with a suite from The Nose, and thus put a handkerchief on the coffins instead of the froth. Something to consider for the 150th anniversary ... Jeff Dunn