Along with forever altering Russia's political landscape, Joseph Stalin and his supporters had a lasting impact on culture—a fact made plain by Dmitri Shostakovich's career. For Shostakovich, the turning point was perhaps his 1934 opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District. The story of a nineteenth-century woman driven to adultery—and finally murder—by the boredom of her life, the gritty and realistic drama comes to life in music modernist and highly original. The work was a huge success upon its first performances in Leningrad and Moscow and was performed more than 100 times over the next two years. Less than a month after Stalin first saw the opera in 1936, however, the newspaper Pravda issued a scathing criticism of his music, ultimately warning that if the composer didn’t change his approach, “things will turn out badly for him”—a particularly menacing warning at a time when thousands were being sent to labor camps. Shostakovich reportedly kept a packed suitcase next to his front door. This artistic climate colors nearly all of Shostakovich’s music, and critics often interpret his works against this political backdrop.

Shostakovich completed his First Cello Concerto in the summer of 1959, during the height of the Soviet era, for the great Russian cellist Mstislav Rostropovich, who performed it with the Leningrad Philharmonic under the direction of Evgeny Mravinsky. During one of the Cold War thaws soon after the premiere, Shostakovich and Rostropovich went to the United States for the American premiere with Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra.

A sort of mocking humor alternating with unrelenting gloom—precisely the contrast that caught the unwelcome attention of the Soviet cultural commissars in the composer’s other works—fills The Cello Concerto No. 1. At least one critic interpreted this in a different light, as “a welcome strain of Soviet realism.” Shostakovich described the opening movement as “an allegretto in the style of a jocular march.” Throughout the movement, the cello trades themes with the orchestra and the solo French horn, which plays a crucial part throughout much of the concerto. The following three movements are performed without separation. In the Moderato, the horn again comes to the fore to state the first theme following an orchestral introduction. Particularly noteworthy are the cello's harmonics at the end of the movement, accompanied by the celesta. Following a drum roll comes the solo cadenza nearly long enough to be its own movement, weaving together themes from the entire work. The final Allegro con moto quotes Stalin's favorite song, “Suliko.” Grimly frenetic and boldly virtuosic, the movement takes the work to a brilliant and ambiguous close.

The Fourth Concerto was composed during a particularly significant transition in Beethoven's life. As he had the first three, Beethoven composed the fourth concerto for himself as soloist. By the time he completed the work in 1806, however, Beethoven's increasing deafness had all but ended his performing career. Despite this overwhelming challenge, the Fourth Concerto's debut was a triumph. Its first public performance occurred at a remarkable concert on December 22, 1808, at Vienna's Theater an der Wien. Given our modern expectations of concert length, it is almost impossible to imagine what it would have been like to attend that nearly four-hour-long event, which included the premieres of Beethoven's Fifth and Sixth Symphonies, his Choral Fantasy, four movements from his Mass in C, and the concert aria, "Ah! Perfido.” Even more inconceivable, there would have been little—if any—opportunity to take a break. As the New York Times wrote, "Over the course of the 19th century, the music itself became the focus of concerts, and audiences were expected to remain attentive—and seated. Programs were typically longer and more varied than those presented today, with a mix of vocal, symphonic, and chamber works. And yet…there is little evidence of intermissions lasting more than a mere five minutes, sufficient time to slip away but not to grab a drink."

Despite its length and wide-ranging repertoire, the concert made an impression—especially the Fourth Piano Concerto. J. F. Reichardt, who was present at the concert, said of Beethoven’s solo performance, “He played…with astounding cleverness and in the fastest possible tempi. The Adagio, a masterly movement of beautifully developed song, he sang on this instrument with a profound melancholy that thrilled me.”  

Composed in the traditional three movements, the opening Allegro moderato begins immediately with a solo statement instead of a purely orchestral introduction. The ensuing Andante con moto, which Reichardt characterized as “sung” by the piano, unfolds in a dialogue between orchestra and soloist that Liszt described as “Orpheus taming the wild beasts with his music.” The slow movement proceeds directly into the Rondo: Vivace, whose whirlwind of colors and emotions takes the movement to an exhilarating close.  

—Jennifer More, ©2024