Shostakovich: Symphony No. 10

The performance strikes me as flawless. I am not in general an enthusiast for Karajan, and even here I don't catch the special individuality that made Toscanini, Beecham and Furtwaengler who and what they were as interpreters. Nevertheless if I had heard this performance without knowing who the conductor was I could only have been struck forcibly by the power, commitment and discipline of the reading. I gather there is a later account by the same conductor and orchestra, costing more but allegedly better recorded. I have no complaints about the recorded quality of this one, and given the nature of the music that is not the consideration uppermost in my mind anyhow.

As someone who until a few months ago regarded 20th Century classical music as awful, incoherent, discordant rubbish to be avoided at all cost, Shostakovich has come as a complete revelation to me. This is the second of his symphonies I have heard (the first being No. 7) and it has quickly become one of my favourites of any period, rubbing shoulders with Beethoven 6, Mendelssohn 3, Rachmaninov 2 etc. This symphony absolutely bowls me over, in so many ways.

Firstly, the intricacy of it. It isn't an exaggeration to say you notice something new every time you listen to it. Just recently, I noticed a theme from the first movement cropping up in the third, which had escaped me on the previous umpteen hearings. Not to mention the enigmatic symbols (the DSCH and Elemira motifs), and form (why do three bleak movements lead to a supposedly joyous one?).

Second, meaning. Look at the time it was written (around the time of Stalin's death). Solomon Volkov maintains that Shostakovich intended the symphony to be about the Stalin Era, and the second movement to be a portrait of Stalin himself. I don't care if that's true or not, to be honest, because it describes it very well! Just listen to the desolate twisting of the first movement, and the terrifying intensity of the second and think of what Shostakovich as a person and his country as a whole went through under Stalin. This is without a doubt music from a deeply troubled mind, that is trying to express something beyond words.

Thirdly, and most importantly, the writing itself is endlessly captivating. The growling of the cellos, delicacy of the clarinets, shrieking violins, crashing percussion, all conspire to make the first movement quite unlike anything else. Conceived as a huge crescendo followed by a huge diminuendo, this movement conveys the impression of hopeless despair rising to fury and back to despair again. Special mention in this recording goes to the clarinettist, whose solos are absolutely spot-on - languid and resigned.

The second movement hits you with the force of a runaway train, coming as it does after the massive quiet span of the end of the first. Moments of this movement are really quite terrifying, a wild orgy of fury and bitter sarcasm. I recently heard this symphony in concert, and this movement made me feel intensely uncomfortable - a mixture between horror and deep sadness, which I have never experienced before listening to any music. Although this recording doesn't quite have that emotional clout, it can certainly cause the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end!

The final two movements are more straightforward, musically and emotionally. The third I heard described as a "puppet dance", which is a good description of its jerky waltz nature, which is interrupted by repeated horn calls (all beautiful on this disc). The fourth starts slowly, but ends up in a slightly manic whirl, and the symphony ends in a major key - unexpected considering the preceding movements.

A short description like that cannot of course come close to describing all the details and emotions packed into this intricate work. All I can say is that Karajan et al provide a wonderful recording of it, veering as it does from suicidal despair through anger to wild "joy". All the tempos are excellent, the solos are flawless, the dynamics nicely managed to produce maximum effect. Well, what else would you expect from the Berlin Phil?