Last weekend, the Baltimore Sympony under the direction of its
newly installed music director, Yuri Temirkanov, played Haydn's London
Symphony. They also, in conjunction with bass Sergei Aleksashkin, played
Shostakovich's Babi Yar Symphony (No. 13). I'm not qualified to judge the
musical performance, other than to say the Babi Yar Symphony had ever so
much more impact on me than it did on CD.
Serving as a sort of master of ceremonies was none other than the
reknown poet Yegeny Yevtushenko. While visibly graying, he remains spry
as he pushes 70, with an engaging stage presence. He read, mainly in
English translation, several of his poems, including "Babi Yar". While
dealing with serious topics in his poems- such his sense of identity with
all the peoples of the world and the ugliness of both anti-Semitism and
anti-Semites- he added touches of levity. For example, when he arrived
at a line that went something like, "I want to love all the women in the
world/ I want to be a woman- just once!" he made an courtly gesture to the
attractive oriental lady in the first fiddle section who was conveniently
positioned right behind the concertmaster.
In his younger years, Temirkanov had braved official censure by giving the
Leningrad premier of the Babi Yar Symphony- and he used Yev's original
text, not the officially approved text helpfully provided by the leading
musical and literary critics of the day. I'd like to quote Temirkanov's
words on the subject:
"Because Yevgeny Mravinsky had not had the courage to perform
the premiere, Leningrad had never had the opportunity to hear
Shostakovich's Symphony No. 13. That made me wnat to perform it
all the more. And so I asked Kirill Kondrashin to send me a copy
of the score. When I opened it, I found that Yevtushenko's original
text was still there, and that the original was easier to read. So
I got the idea, 'Why not perform it with the orignial text?' Rehearsals
began. Posters appeared on the streets advertising the concert.
And then, I received an invitation to appear before the Regional
Committee of the Communist Party. There was the customary exchange
of meaningless pleasantries and then they got to the point. They
were terrified by the prospect of a performance of this symphony.
They said, 'Why not perform other pieces by Shostakovich?' I said,
'The Symphony was already announced and if you forbid this performance,
I will have to cancel the concert.' What's more, I told them that I
would immediately let Shostakovich know that they had forbidden a
performance of his symphony. They began to wave their hands, 'No,
no, we don;t want to forbid it, we just advise you.' I said, 'Look,
what are you afraid of? This symphony has already been performed
several times in Moscow.' They sighed with relief. They were delighted
to hear that. It was then that I realized that they didn;t know that
the problem was not with the music itself, but with Yevtushknko's
original text. So, I went ahead and performed it then and thereafter,
and they never knew the difference."
Such is the stuff of which totalitarian governments are made.
If there is interest on this list, I will quote Yev's sardonically amusing
tale of how the Literary Gazette published Babi Yar. But for now I'll
close with some of Yev's words about the world premiere of the Babi Yar
symphony, which are published in a small book Yev wrote (and signed for
all who waited in line) in commemoration of this, Baltimore's first,
performance of this work.
"The premiere of the 13th Symphony became a musical and political
event at once. All Herzena Street near the [Moscow] Conservatory
was overcrowded. Traffic was paralyzed. It was an incredibly colorful
mess: police on horses, KGB agents, former political presoners,
dissidents, priests, diplomats, correspondents, students, famous
scientists, musicians, writers, even some kings of the black market,
whose presence in the best seats at the best concerts was traditional.
It was very easy to notice the cowardly absence of the Party 'big
cheeses'. A long expected unknown air of freedom was burning lungs
and freezing throats. When the concert was over, a standing ovation
burst for not less than half an hour. Hills of flowers covered the
stage. They spread the smell of joy and danger. ...
That was the politically poisoned atmosphere in which was born the
most difficult and dearest child of Shostakovich- the 13th Symphony."
Finally, (honestly) I'll quote a translation of the opening and closing
lines of Yevtushenk's poem "Babi Yar"
No monument stands over Babi Yar.
A drop sheer as a crude gravestone.
I am afraid.
Today I am as old in years as
All the Jewish people.
Now I seem to be
a Jew.
Here I plod through ancient Egypt.
Here I perish crucified, on the cross,
and to this day I bear the scars of nails.
I seem to be
Dreyfus.
The Philistine
is both informer and judge.
I am behind bars.
Beset on every side.
Hounded,
spat on,
slandered.
Squealing, dainty ladies in flounced Brussels lace
stick their parasols into my face.
...
The 'International,' let it
thunder
When the last anti-Semite on earth
is buried forever.
In my blood there is no Jewish blood.
But in the callous rage, all anti-Semites
must hate me now as a Jew.
For that reason
I am a true Russian!"
"Larry Sherwood" <[log in to unmask]>
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