PIANO CONCERTO NOS. 1 AND 2 COMPOSED IN 1933 AND 1957 DMITRI SHOSTAKOVICH BORN IN ST.

PETERSBURG, SEPTEMBER 25, 1906 DIED IN MOSCOW, AUGUST 9, 1975 The musician we perhaps too often associate with somber portrayals of the emotional turmoil of an artist under Stalinism was also one of the wittiest musicians since Joseph Haydn. When listeners laugh at a concert of my symphonic music, I am not in the least bit shocked, wrote Dmitri Shostakovich in a Soviet magazine in 1934. In fact, I am pleased. This composers early scores are characterized by a sardonic and effervescent humor that is as profound as it is satirical. There was frequently a weird tinge as well the word often applied in early criticism was grotesque. I want to defend the right of laughter to appear in what is called serious music, Shostakovich wrote, touching on a truth known to great composers through the ages: that humor in art exists not just to elicit laughter, but to reveal truth. In Shostakovich, comedy and despair coexist as comfortably and intricately as they do in any music; humor is a means of coping with the unbearable. That there is a sharp edge to this humor should come as no surprise from one who embodied so completely the contradictions of living under the schizoid and unpredictable Soviet regime. Shostakovichs early stage works (The Nose, The Golden Age, The Bolt) had dealt up ample servings of this sardonic wit, and the First Symphony of 1925 had its moments of youthful zest and joie de vivre as well. But it was with the First Piano Concerto that the composer brought the full force of his droll humor into the concert hall. AN EBULLIENT WORK Written in the summer of 1933, immediately after the completion of his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District (the official condemnation of which, in 1936, would change the course of his career), the First Piano Concerto is one of the composers most delightfully glib and ebullient works. Its wry humor and solid craftsmanship immediately assured that it would achieve the composers stated goal of filling up the gap in Soviet instrumental repertoire, which lacks major works for the concert stage. The work has remained a favorite of concert audiences for over half a century now. It also became a solo vehicle for its creator, who had begun his career at the Petrograd Conservatory as a dual talent, completing a degree in piano (at age 16) before earning his composition diploma. He was, of course, the soloist in the works premiere in Leningrad on October 15, 1933, with Fritz Stiedry conducting the Leningrad Philharmonicand featuring the orchestras principal trumpet, Aleksandr Schmidt, a friend and favorite musician of the composer. The work was initially conceived as a concerto for piano, with the accompaniment of string orchestra and trumpet, and the prominent role assigned to the solo trumpet gives it a distinctive quality. This biting edge and the essential roles given to piano and trumpet have caused some writers to connect it to Petrushkaand there is no doubt that Shostakovich was familiar with Stravinskys masterpiece. But one could also make comparisons to Prokofievs early worksparticularly his own First Piano Concerto

of 1912, which had pulled at the trouser-seams of Romantic traditions. (That difficult concerto was one of the works in Shostakovichs repertoire at the time.) Shostakovichs humor is drier than that of either of those composersand funnier, too, with an edge of hysteria. Nevertheless his First Piano Concerto was one of the last times he would give such free rein to his witthe lively sense of fun that he still believed formed a part of his mission as an artist. A CLOSER LOOK AT THE FIRST CONCERTO Shostakovichs conservatory study had been rooted in classical styles and traditions, and he had learned his lessons well. In addition to quotations from Haydn, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, and many others, this Concerto manages to work in popular tunes and a healthy dose of the burlesque. The opening Allegro moderato, which introduces piano and trumpet at the outset (in an admittedly Petrushka-like figure), presents a staunchly classical theme in C minor before veering off into a sort of can-cancartwheeling away, in the words of Ian MacDonald, into a circus-world of comic turns and raspberries ringmastered by the trumpet. Wittiness is brushed aside in the second movement (Lento), a grave meditation in the vein of the slow movement of Ravels G-major Concerto, and one that makes clear the composers wholly serious intent. The third movement (Moderato) is little more than a mournful recitative, a transition to the audacity of the finale. About as over-the-top as anything in 20th-century music, this Allegro con brio begins wildly and progresses to such a point of absurdity that the listener becomes aware that it is not really very funny after alland this is precisely the idea. A solo cadenza for piano serves only to heighten the shrill atmosphere of the movement, which also includes quotations from Haydn, from Beethovens Rage over a Lost Penny, and from a ditzy tune Shostakovich had originally composed as part of an interlude for Erwin Dressels opera Armer Columbus. In the final analysis, what appears to be a self-evident bit of dash and wit is, like almost everything in Shostakovich, full of complex and surprisingly dark hidden meanings. FAST FORWARD We must fast forward a quarter of a century, to 1957, for Shostakovichs Second Piano Concerto, written this time not to display his own keyboard artistry, but rather that of his son, Maxim, a gifted pianist who went on to become a noted conductor. Much had happened in the meantime, both in the turbulent history of the Soviet Union and the rollercoaster ride that was Shostakovichs career. After the condemnation of Shostakovich in 1936, his rehabilitation with the Fifth Symphony the following year, and yet another official denunciation in 1948, he slowly worked his way back into the good graces of the government. With Stalins death in 1953 a general thaw in political oppression and the gradual rehabilitation of some intellectuals meant a less stressful and more comfortable life for the composer, now clearly the leading musician in the Soviet Union. Shostakovich had done little in the realm of the concerto during the 25 years. He withheld his First Violin Concerto, written for David Oistrakh, until after Stalins death, and composed a Concertino for Two Pianos, which Maxim first presented with a classmate in 1954. The Second Concerto was premiered on Maxims 19th birthday on May 10, 1957, as part of his graduation from the Moscow Conservatory. It was the last of

the works Shostakovich wrote for pedagogical use by his children. Like J.S. Bach and other composers before him, he produced a variety of keyboard pieces for his two children, beginning with the Childrens Notebook, Op. 69, for his daughter, Galina (who eventually became a biologist), and various pieces for Maxim. A CLOSER LOOK AT THE SECOND CONCERTO The youthful exuberance and Haydnesque wit found in the First Concerto, but largely absent from his orchestral compositions in the intervening years, returns in full force. Shostakovich wrote to composer Edison Denisov that the Second Concerto had no artistic merit, a remark that minimizes the joyous and beautiful qualities of a piece that in the end may be more cheerful, hopeful, and optimistic than various substantial works where those qualities seemed forced or inauthentic. In any case, Shostakovich performed the Concerto many times himself and made a recording of it. (As evidence of the continuing family tradition, Maxim later conducted a recording featuring as soloist his own son, Dmitri, who bears a striking resemblance to his grandfather. The two also gave the Philadelphia Orchestra premiere of the Second Concerto.) David Rabinovich, one of Shostakovichs early Soviet biographers, wrote about the work in 1959: The Concerto shows the composer as though his own youth had returned to him. He goes on to state: The tremendous evolution that has taken place in Shostakovich in the past two decades has made its imprint on this concerto. The musical idiom is incomparably simpler and clearer than in the early pianoforte works. There can be no doubt that the composer made every effort to create a concerto to which the youth will be receptive. [Compared with his earlier keyboard works, including the First Piano Concerto], the only difference is that now all these things have a more tender sound, and the former sarcasm and unkind grotesqueries have been turned into sweet and gentle playfulness. A solo bassoon initiates a witty neo-Classical style that soon accelerates with a military sounding theme for piano and orchestra, complete with snare-drum (Allegro). (The military mood was picked up in the movie Fantasia 2000 for a segment called the Steadfast Tin Soldier.) The haunting second movement (Andante) seems a throwback not to earlier Shostakovich, but to the previous century. It provides a searching meditation for strings and keyboard soloist before the playful mood returns in the irrepressible perpetual motion Finale (Allegro). Much of the piano passagework has the character of a mechanical piano student exercise, such as the notorious Czerny or Hanon studies fledgling piano students are subjected to. It was perhaps a sly way Shostakovich could make sure his son practiced! Paul J. Horsley/Christopher H. Gibbs
Program note 2006. All rights reserved. Program note may not be reprinted without written permission from The Philadelphia Orchestra Association.