Shostakovich: String Quartet No. 8 in C Minor, Op. 110
Shostakovich’s late adoption of the Communist Party in 1960 has been variously interpreted as an act of free will, cowardly resignation, or political coercion (allegedly by blackmail and with pressure from Krushchev himself). The widely-held belief that Shostakovich did not join the Party of his own accord privileges an autobiographical reading of his String Quartet No. 8 in C Minor, written that summer in Dresden over just three days. Shostakovich’s own words lend support to that angle; he hinted to one friend that the quartet was to be a sort of suicide note, and wrote to another, “When I die, it’s hardly likely that someone will write a work dedicated to my memory. So I decided to write it myself.” If we are to believe the composer, it appears that he counted himself among the “victims of fascism and war,” to whose memory he actually dedicated the Quartet.
Shostakovich’s music makes the message almost as explicit as do his words. The piece is mosaicked throughout with his DSCH musical monogram (translated from German: the pitches D, E-flat, C, B) and brazenly conspicuous self-quotations of some of his best-known pieces: the First, Eighth and Tenth Symphonies, Cello Concerto No. 1 and Piano Trio No. 2, to name just a few. It is indeed curious that Shostakovich would parrot such iconic works of his. An analogous issue dissuades some directors from casting actors who are too famous to be seen in new roles with fresh eyes; a musical quote of the opening of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, for example, would surely corrupt the artistic autonomy of its new context. But in the Eighth String Quartet, Shostakovich’s autographed self-referencing is by design. The effect is something like hearing the horrors of war directly from the mouth of Shostakovich himself, even while he falls in line, lips closed, out of self-preservation.
© Graeme Steele Johnson for the Norfolk Chamber Music Festival
Shostakovich’s late adoption of the Communist Party in 1960 has been variously interpreted as an act of free will, cowardly resignation, or political coercion (allegedly by blackmail and with pressure from Krushchev himself). The widely-held belief that Shostakovich did not join the Party of his own accord privileges an autobiographical reading of his String Quartet No. 8 in C Minor, written that summer in Dresden over just three days. Shostakovich’s own words lend support to that angle; he hinted to one friend that the quartet was to be a sort of suicide note, and wrote to another, “When I die, it’s hardly likely that someone will write a work dedicated to my memory. So I decided to write it myself.” If we are to believe the composer, it appears that he counted himself among the “victims of fascism and war,” to whose memory he actually dedicated the Quartet.
Shostakovich’s music makes the message almost as explicit as do his words. The piece is mosaicked throughout with his DSCH musical monogram (translated from German: the pitches D, E-flat, C, B) and brazenly conspicuous self-quotations of some of his best-known pieces: the First, Eighth and Tenth Symphonies, Cello Concerto No. 1 and Piano Trio No. 2, to name just a few. It is indeed curious that Shostakovich would parrot such iconic works of his. An analogous issue dissuades some directors from casting actors who are too famous to be seen in new roles with fresh eyes; a musical quote of the opening of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, for example, would surely corrupt the artistic autonomy of its new context. But in the Eighth String Quartet, Shostakovich’s autographed self-referencing is by design. The effect is something like hearing the horrors of war directly from the mouth of Shostakovich himself, even while he falls in line, lips closed, out of self-preservation.
© Graeme Steele Johnson for the Norfolk Chamber Music Festival