The Accidental Shostakovich Fans
I have been a classical music fan for over a quarter of a century, since first watching "Horowitz in Moscow" on VHS. This passion follows shortly after romance, travel and food, in terms of life's enjoyment. I have played and read about countless composers, and enjoyed many great performances thoughout my life. But relatively recently, my wife and I have found ourselves in the concert hall with Shostakovich, on a recurring and unexpected basis.
Whenever travelling to a new city, we scan shows, sports events, museums, etc. to include in our itinerary. During our first visit to the lovely Edinburgh, we bought tickets for the only concert that fit our schedule. This included the Shostakovich 10 (along with a fantastic guest appearance by the percussionist Martin Grubinger). That night ended up being perfect. The concert hall, the performance, the following dinner, the nighttime strolls, were wonderful. Above all, the symphony gave this a bold outline never to forget.
I have known of Shostakovich for some time. However, as an amateur pianist there is not much in the repertoire that is readily accessible. So it was a cold knowledge, without the intimacy that accompanies his sound. His story remains complex, writing classical music in the Soviet Union, trying to express and emote without punishment. He seemed to navigate this road skillfully and successfully. As one orchestra member of the BSO addressed the audience, "He almost accomplishes a trick, hiding beauty in his notes against a backdrop of repression."
The Edinburg experience gave us a good footing. Now in Baltimore, that has expanded. We attended a concert at the Meyerhoff Symphony Hall in January of this year, selecting a time that worked for my schedule and in order to meet up with friends. The program included Rachmaninoff's fourth piano concerto and, of course, Shostakovich. This time, it was his fourth symphony. From an earlier period in his career and life, the sound was different but the feeling the same.
Once again, in June, we found ourselves at the concert hall for a random reason. We were offered half-price tickets to attend on a certain Sunday. There was a world premier (Billy Childs), another symphony (Rachmaninoff's third), and, accordingly, Shostakovich. This time it was a shorter piece - the Festive Overture, Op. 96 - a brief but grand way to start a show.
Dmitri Shostakovich is not our favorite composer, although we are happy to know him better, if only by accident. His music is broad, meaningful, penetrating and beautiful. Now on more familiar terms, our future encounters will definitely be planned.
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