ROSTROPOVICH 1968 - MY LIFE'S MOST DRAMATIC CONCERT

A small piece in the newspaper today notes that Mstislav Rostropovich, the great Russian Cellist, is very ill in hospital. It seems strange that only a couple of days ago, I wrote a piece about another cellist, Jaqueline Du Pre, and the Elgar Concerto, and here we are today, brought up short by thoughts about the 79 year old Russian.

He was central, to me, in what was simply the most dramatic Concert I have ever experienced. Back in 1968, we lived near London, and being relatively “free agents” ie no children, could catch the train up to London to enjoy whatever was on, and London, then as now, usually had the pick of the country’s entertainment. The date was 21st August, and it was my wife’s birthday. We had bought tickets to a concert at the Albert Hall.

The day turned out to be one of those days – for some time, the Russians had been pushing their military into Czechoslovakia, to quell the liberal regime of Alexander Dubcek. But that afternoon, it had all come to a head and the Russians had made their dramatic move and had planted tanks on the streets of Prague. There was a real air of fear and betrayal which, even in London, you could feel as you walked around.

The concert, and I will remember the programme until I die, was to be performed by a Russian Orchestra, conducted (I think) by Rozhdestvensky. They were playing music by Russian composers - Glinka’s “Russlan and Ludmilla Overture”, and the Shostakovich 10th Symphony. The soloist that evening was Rostropovich, who by an amazing stroke of irony (or totally brilliant programme planning!) was playing the Czech composer Dvorak’s Cello Concerto.

When we reached the Hall, there were anti-Russian demonstrations going on all around the outside, and for a while I thought the concert would be cancelled, but no – it went ahead, and we wound our way up to the Gods, high above the orchestra. To say the atmosphere inside the hall was electric was an understatement - you could cut it with a knife. The start of the concert was delayed by the demonstrators in the hall, led by Tariq Ali making their heartfelt point. You felt in the presence of a small bit of history, and it really got the heart racing.

I don’t know if it is wishful thinking, but, in my mind, I can hear the music even now. To say the least, it was powerful stuff, with the Shostakovich also being, on the night, an utterly inspired choice.

You couldn’t see the details from up where we were, but people said Rostropovich was playing this fiercely Czech music with tears streaming down his face. Here was a man who clearly felt his country had let him down, and, years later, he ended up being exiled from the USSR and having his citizenship revoked. All in all, an evening which even now I can remember as exhausting, but very uplifting.

Anyone who wants to hear the Concerto should head straight to the Rostropovich/Karajan version – it’s a bit like the Du Pre Elgar piece in that it comes top of every recommendation you will read - interestingly recorded in the same year as the concert, 1968.

THE RECORD COVER TO LOOK FOR!

One of a couple of dozen Classical recordings which will be in everyone’s Top Choices. A recording of majesty and power, serenity and great dignity. If you find a better one, give me a call, but I won’t be holding my breath!

It’s not the same recording, but YouTube has a set of 10 minute snippets (just like the old 78s where you had to turn the record over every few minutes!) of Rostropovich playing it. If you want to hear the rest of it, just search for the other 5 excerpts. I’ve put in Section 4, which covers the closing few minutes of the Slow movement below, so just click on the centre arrow.

ROSTROPOVICH - THE LAST FEW PAGES OF THE SLOW MOVEMENT

DVORAK CELLO CONCERTO

Tags:

rostropovich,dvorak,cello,1968,
music,cellist,best cellist

BACH - WITH BITE! - AND LOVE IN THE AIR

Many pieces of music only exist in one form – the First recording is the Last recording as well. Just think of the Rolling Stones “Satisfaction”. I’m not a pop-geek, but I’ve never heard another version (other than live Stones’ Concert versions) of that song.

The first five notes “De De, De De Deeh” are simply “IT”. In my humble opinion, Keith Richards would have gained immortality if those were the only five notes he ever wrote. To realise the power of that simple intro, have you ever measured the time it takes for a dance floor to fill completely when the DJ plays them? It’s measured in milliseconds.

But other pieces of music don’t work like that. I have been thinking about this after scribbling down some thoughts earlier today about Jacqueline Du Pre, and her playing of the Elgar Concerto.

Classical Music, far more than most Pop Music, almost lives on the interpretation. The music exists as the written score but it is only relatively recently that we know how the composer thought the music should be played. We had to wait until the likes of people like Rachmaninov and Elgar actually recorded their own works, to hear what they wanted the music to sound like. And even then, we may not have been hearing it at its best.

There is a simple view that, once the music exists, the maximisation of its performance impact usually lies in the hands of someone else. And, as is the way of things, people have for the length of recording history, taken several shots at recording a piece of music. This is all bound up with the issue that was bugging me about the Du Pre Elgar Concerto. Her version, brilliant though it is, is not the only way it can be played, and we must all keep an open mind on this.

Other pieces of music, where there is not so dominant a recording, often have twenty or thirty recordings available, and it is simply up to the listener to decide which is the best. There are many occasions where you have to choose between several versions, made at differing times in one interpreter’s life. At least this means that there is no one “Best” version of a piece.

Take an example. Bach’s Goldberg Variations. I have four versions of this, one by Angela Hewitt (Brilliant!), another by Jacques Loussier (Curate’s Eggish), and two by Glenn Gould.

The Glenn Gould versions are the ones I want to refer to here. He made Version 1 in 1955, as a 23 year old. As a virtuoso piece, he brings Bach into the Twentieth Century with an amazing display of pianistic fireworks, which, being only nine the time of its release I was not aware, set the music world alight at the outstanding virtuosity of the performance.

As a person, Gould was an utterly outstanding pianist and a real eccentric, to boot. A Canadian, he recorded about 80 different pieces, but soon in his career, he gave up live performance, and only met his public via the recording studio. He had an absolutely individual take on whatever he played, and he was one of those rare artists whom, I suspect, you either revered or hated. His Beethoven Sonatas, I have to say, are a taste I have not yet acquired, but you simply cannot ignore the man. He thought the music through from his own ruthlessly logical point of view – if you liked it, then Great, if you didn’t well, you didn’t. His Bach however is out of the top of the Top Drawer.

GLENN GOULD PLAYING BACH - LOOK FOR THE DOG!

Note - The You Tube snippet above can be activated by clicking on the centre button, waiting for "Loading" to complete then pressing on the "Play" symbol in the bottom left hand corner.

If you want to hear and see Glenn Gould playing the 1981 Goldberg Variations, go to Google Video, search for Glenn Gould, and click on the 47 minute version of the Goldberg Variations - it's about the third one down. Quite amazing!

Although he hardly ever re-recorded anything, he made an exception with the Goldberg Variations, and in 1981, he went back into the recording studios, and did them again. Sadly, elliptically, and rather spookily, just after he recorded them again, he died.

To say the two versions were “Chalk and Cheese” hardly does the chalk or the cheese justice. The differences are immense. The first Aria takes almost twice as long in the 1981 version as the 1955 recording. The second one treats Bach as a human being, in places almost as a Romantic, whereas the first is almost fiendishly mechanical in its approach. Strangely, the later version seems to take far longer than the original, but, when you take out the beginning and ending Arias, and the 13 or so repeats which Gould observes in the 1981 version and not in the 1955 version, it actually takes a broadly similar overall time. What does come across in the 1981 recording is the Homogeneity of the work. The earlier one sounds like 30 almost unrelated variations – the latter version Seems all of a One.

There is a 3 disc set issued by Sony which contains both versions remastered, as well as a very revealing interview with Gould explaining why he felt the need to change his interpretation so radically. Quite enthralling, and if you ever want to understand why people change their views about a piece of music over time, just listen to that interview.

As I am sure you will realise, I think the 1981 version is streets ahead of the original 1955 version, but the point I’m trying to make here is that nothing is fixed in musical interpretation. Its very ephemeral nature is one of its most endearing features.

Even in Pop Music, you can see similarities. I happen to think Mark Knopfler is a truly gifted song writer and guitarist. He wrote a simple 3-minute song called “Romeo and Juliet”, released on an LP (Yes, it’s that old!) called “Making Movies”. Later on, particularly in his live performances, he built that song into the set, but, by the time he played these concerts, it had been totally changed from a 3 minute, bounce-along pop song, to a 12 minute long, slowly, wistfully and hauntingly performed work, which was so, so much more appropriate to the sentiments he was singing about. It had mood, presence, atmosphere, and to me became a great song when performed like that. Same lyrics, Same melody, but Lordy, Lordy, what a difference in impact.

DIRE STRAITS - ROMEO AND JULIET - THE LONG VERSION

By the way, the brilliant Saxophone solo is by Chris White - it lasts almost as long as the original song on "Making Movies"!

In the end, it doesn’t matter what I think. My opinion only matters to me, and it’s up to you to decide if you agree with what I’m saying. All I would suggest is you listen to both sets of “Before and After” recordings, and come to your own conclusions.

Then, the simple message behind the whole of this piece is to keep an open mind about how a piece of music sounds, however many times you hear it – you may even get to like the way The Sex Pistols sing “My Way”!

Tags:

bach,
glenn gould,
gould,dire straits,
mark knopfler,
romeo and juliet,
best pianist,
best pop music,
best pop song