Symphony No. 7

It was hard for me

to write this review

without mentioning

Beethoven or Shostakovich.

Boris Tishchenko, here has

written a symphony as joyful

as Beethoven's seventh; but

in the vein of his teacher,

Dmitri Shostakovich.

The opening of the works

as ironic as the opening of

Shostakovich's 9th symphony.

The piano and xylophone solos,

bring to mind the ballet-suites

of Shostakovich.Also in the second

movement the solo for tom-toms brings

to mind the solo for that instrument

in Shostakovich's 14th symphony.The

general mood of the work is joyful

and sentimental, which make it so

diferent to many of the post-soviet

works of our age. This is the

world premiere recording of

the work and it was recorded live

at the legendary great hall

of the Moscow Conservatory, in

2002. Dmitri Yablonsky and the

Moscovites do a wonderful work...

My favorite work of the post-soviet period!!!!!

Well, done Mr. Tishchenko...

Russian music, like Russian literature, has a propensity for darkness. Perhaps it's the winters, or the lack of light in the northern clime, or the long and torturous history of the "suffering Russian people" but most of the country's greatest music has a dark heart as epitomized by the tragedy of Tchaikovsky's great symphonies, the dark drama of Mussorgsky's operas, and particularly the bitter irony and death obsessed music of Shostakovitch. Since the death of Shostakovitch several composers have been crowned as his successor, chief among them Schnittke and Boris Tishchenko. Tishchenko in particular has the distinction of being the composer's favorite student in the 1960s. But where most of the heirs to Shostkovitch seem to have inherited the Russian master's darkly pessimistic outlook and bitterness, Tishchenko has inherited the older master's sense of fun, and even developed that sense further.

The Seventh Symphony was written in 1994 and is one of the first major symphonic statements by a composer after the fall of communism. While for other composers, the collapse of the Soviet system allowed for a deeper spirituality or a more modernist musical expression, for Tishchenko it's allowed him to discover something that was never looked upon with much favor by the soviets, a sense of humor. The work is divided into five movements, four fast movements surrounding a central slow movement in an arch-like form. In each of the fast movements elements of western popular music coincide with light hearted motives that suggest Shostakovitch at his bad-boy best from the 1920s. The writing is brilliant and full of good humor. Particularly striking is the ragtime dance that makes up the second movement. But for all the relationship in this music to Shostakovitch works like the Age of Gold ballet, this is not mere imitation. Tishchenko is an individual composer with his own voice. His music is basically tonal, characterized by memorable themes and rhythmic vitality. But it is decidedly polytonal and often harmonically adventurous. However, even the most dissonant sections never lose the sense of humor and fun that characterize this symphony and make the entire work an enjoyable and fresh musical experience, one that I hope to return to frequently.

This work is highly recommended for fans of good modern music. It is fun, and tonal, but also intellectually stimulating. It is no mere trifle. The performance, a live recording by Dmitry Yablonsky and the Moscow Philharmonic, is assured and exciting. Kudos to Naxos for continuing to find and champion excellent lesser known ensembles performing the work of deserving modern composers.

I was unprepared to like this Symphony quite as much as I did. The only thing I had known about Boris Tishchenko (b. 1939) was that he was reportedly 'Shostakovich's favorite pupil' and I had once heard part of his Second Violin Concerto on the radio and noted the similarity with Shostakovich's style. Somehow in my mind I had relegated him to epigonic status and hadn't sought his music out as a result. My first time through this CD, which contains a live 2002 performance of his Symphony No. 7 (written in 1994), I was immediately attracted to the brio and raffish good humor of the quicker movements. On repeated listening I have come to admire greatly Tishchenko's assurance, his sense of form, his terrific rhythmic sense (and quite expert use of percussion), his masterful counterpoint and, not least, his ability to write memorable tunes.

Dmitry Yablonsky, a conductor whose work I've come in recent times to admire greatly, leads the Moscow Philharmonic who give him their all in an audibly committed performance. I want to single out for praise the percussion section, and particularly the orchestral pianist and xylophonist who really show their chops in the second movement.

This is a five-movement work lasting about 53 minutes, symmetric in its arch-form layout. I and V are related, as are II and IV. III stands in the center as the emotional core of the work. In I there are frenetic and mocking trombone smears, in II some of the most exciting symphonic jazz piano since Bernstein's 'Age of Anxiety' Symphony, although in this movement the barreling piano is accompanied by a silly-sounding xylophone, a strange but exhilarating (and Shostakovian) combination. No matter how many times I hear that section I smile. One thing about Tishchenko, whose harmonic language is quite similar to Shostakovich's in that it never departs significantly from tonality, is that even in his darkest moments, as in III, a sardonic smile is never far away. There is ghostly trudging in III leavened by masterful dissonant counterpoint that builds to a wrenching climax, only to implode into a half-wistful, half-smiling conclusion. IV again features ghostly but graceful strings and muted brass in a theme that is used both as a chorale and in a fugato passage; the overall effect is a wistful gimpy dance. V features some of the wildest, throbbingest percussion writing I've heard since Shostakovich's Fifth. The forward motion is compelling: one doesn't know whether to skip or run or dance wildly with arms waving. Shostakovian piccolos coupled with a tom-tom tattoo are prominent.

Shostakovich is not the only influence one hears in this music; there are a Mahlerian cuckoo and Wozzeckian dance-hall music in I, traces of Bartók in ghostly, half-overheard passages in II, III and IV, American jazz and the spare harmonies of Copland here and there; Prokofiev's sweet-tart harmonies in V; a Debussyan Gollywog cakewalk in II. Yet, the whole thing hangs together.

This release makes me want to seek out more music by Tishchenko. I think I may have been missing something up to now.

TT=52:45

An easy recommendation to the mildly adventurous, lovers of Shostakovich, and those for whom tonality is still a requisite in contemporary music.

Scott Morrison