When writing his 13th Symphony, Shostakovich drew inspiration from Yevgeny Yevtushenko's poignant poem "Babi Yar," initially published
in the September 1961 edition of the Soviet newspaper Literaturnaya
Gazeta. This poem marked a revolutionary shift in Soviet cultural
expression, bravely challenging the societal norms of the time.
Yevtushenko's verses served as a bold denouncement of anti-Semitism
within the USSR, spotlighting the disturbing official stance that
consistently thwarted initiatives to memorialize the tragic Babi Yar massacre site from 1941, where a majority of the victims were Ukrainian
Jews.
During the Nazi occupation, the ravine outside Kiev witnessed the horrifying extermination of thousands, yet anti-Semitism persisted in Soviet culture. Following a brief postwar respite, coinciding with Joseph Stalin's acknowledgment of the newly formed state of Israel, this prejudice resurged. It manifested as a vehement denial of the notion that Jews had endured greater suffering than "native" Russians and Ukrainians during the war.
Amidst the disquietude permeating Shostakovich's life during those years, some of his most
remarkable compositions found their genesis. Once again assuming the
role of a compelling orator, he echoed his eloquence from the 1930s and
1940s during the tumultuous Stalinist purges and the war, with his 13th
Symphony staking a central claim in this resurgence.
In the backdrop of Khrushchev's administration seeking to erase all traces of the Babi Yar massacre, an unsettling solution emerged: a road carved across the gorge. The symphony's opening line, "There is no memorial to Babi Yar," stands as an accusatory finger pointing squarely at those accountable. Until 1966, no memorial existed, with a permanent one only materializing in 1991. The aftermath of Yevtushenko's publication triggered a vitriolic campaign against him, accusing him of inciting racial hatred. Despite the impending premiere's precarious position, fueled by the sensitivity of the subject and irrespective of Shostakovich's party affiliation, the cultural milieu was on the brink of canceling the event.
Yevgeny Mravinsky, who had introduced Shostakovich's previous eight symphonies, declined to conduct the new work. Even at this eleventh hour, Soviet cultural authorities endeavored to dissuade musicians from proceeding with the premiere, yet their resistance prevailed. Remarkably, the impending premiere garnered no promotional attention, underscoring the tense and clandestine atmosphere surrounding this significant cultural event.
The movements:
Babi Yar: Adagio
Humor: Allegretto
In the store: Adagio
In the segment titled "In the store: Adagio," Shostakovich delves into the poignant plight of Soviet women standing in line at a store. Here, his compassion surfaces as prominently as in his denunciation of racial prejudice and gratuitous violence. Crafted in the form of a lament, the chorus momentarily diverges from its unison line only in the final two harmonized chords, concluding with a cadence that echoes a liturgical Amen, marking a solemn homage to the women enduring these struggles.
Fears: Largo
The movement titled "Fears: Largo" delves into the theme of repression within the Soviet Union, showcasing the symphony's most musically elaborate facet. Through an array of musical ideas, including an angry march and alternating soft and violent episodes, Shostakovich heightens the impact of the message. Harmonic ambiguity pervades, creating a profound sense of unease, especially as the chorus intones the opening lines of Yevtushenko's poem: "Fears are dying out in Russia." Shostakovich briefly disrupts this mood, responding to Yevtushenko's agitprop lines, "We weren't afraid / Of construction work in blizzards / Or of going into battle under shellfire," with a parody of the Soviet marching song "Bravely, comrades, march to the beat of the drums."
A Career: Allegretto
The movement labeled "A Career: Allegretto" opens with a pastoral duet of flutes over a B♭ pedal bass, creating a musical effect reminiscent of sunshine after a storm. However, beneath this seemingly serene surface lies an ironic attack on bureaucrats, exploring themes of cynical self-interest and robotic unanimity while paying homage to genuine creativity. The soloist shares an equal footing with the chorus, accompanied by sarcastic commentary from the bassoon and other winds, punctuated by rude squeaks from the trumpets. This movement relies more heavily on purely orchestral passages as connectors between the vocal statements, further emphasizing its satirical edge.
Texts of the poems in Russian and English translation (original text).
Listen to Radio Filharmonisch Orkest, Groot Omroepmannenkoor o.l.v. Dmitri Slobodeniouk m.m.v. Sergej Aleksashkin (bass).
[Based on the German and English articles about the symphony in Wikipedia]
Choral Masterworks