Dmitri Shostakovich (1906 - 1975)
Symphony No. 9 in E-flat major, Op. 70
I. Allegro
II. Moderato
III. Presto
IV. Largo
V. Allegretto - Allegro

The three “wartime” symphonies by Shostakovich, the seventh, eighth and ninth, all got the composer into trouble of one sort or another. The seventh, known as the “ Leningrad ”, was written during the siege of that city by the German army and was hugely popular in the Soviet Union during and after the war, though it was largely ridiculed in the West as overblown and bombastic. It is quoted, not very flatteringly, by Bartok in his Concerto for Orchestra. The eighth is deeply tragic, and was written when the tide of the war was beginning to turn in the allies' favour – so what was the composer doing being tragic when there was hope in the air of eventual victory? The answer is that, like other intelligent Russians, he realised that an allied victory would confirm Stalin in unchallenged power indefinitely – a fear that turned out horribly true. So he was criticised for writing an ‘optimistic' symphony when the Germans seemed to be winning, and a ‘pessimistic' symphony when the Soviets started to win. And then there is the ninth.

When it became known in the closing days of the war that Shostakovich was working on his ninth symphony, expectations were high of a celebratory work, in the mould of Beethoven's ninth, with brass bands, choirs, soloists – the lot. And there is plenty of evidence that Shostakovich did begin such a work early in 1945. However he stopped worked on it for some reason, and when he picked it up again in July 1945 it was quite a different symphony. Completed on 30th August, it bore no resemblance to the monumental celebration everyone had been expecting. In fact it had no pretensions to seriousness at all.

Why did he change his mind? Perhaps he didn't want to measure himself against the yardstick of Beethoven's ninth and be found wanting? Or perhaps he just couldn't bring himself to celebrate Stalin's victory, bought at the cost of the lives of millions of his fellow countrymen? If the latter, it shows almost incredible moral courage, the repercussions of which he felt for many years. He was very lucky to survive.

The symphony is in five movements, of which the last three run together. The first movement is in classical sonata form, and starts much like Prokofiev's “Classical” symphony with a sprightly tune that could almost be by Haydn. The second subject, on piccolo and with trombone chords, however could not! In style it harks back to Shostakovich's ballet scores of 20 years earlier, and there is even an exposition repeat. The development sets off into adventurous keys as the themes are deconstructed, with a significant violin solo at one point. The mood is largely one of fun.

Things get more serious in the second movement which is slow, made up from two alternating sections. The first is a melancholy clarinet theme, later on flute, accompanied bleakly by pizzicato (plucked) chords from the strings. The other is a rocking theme on the strings, and although gentle it is also uneasy and unsettling. This movement fades out gently.

The third movement is a very fast scherzo, and if you don't listen carefully it sounds fun and sparkly. But there is venom here, and it is quite spiteful under the surface. It is very short, and the fourth movement breaks in with a shock, as massive, brutal brass chords introduce an emotional recitative on the solo bassoon. This happens twice, before the bassoon slides into a gentle amble, which becomes the jaunty march-like theme of the last movement. This movement is poker-faced – it hides its feelings carefully. It gradually works up to a climax based on the jaunty march, which becomes very powerful and threatening. Then we're off again, and the excitement is whipped up to the end.

This last movement has a high degree of nervous excitement, and the ever changing tonality makes it uneasy. But quite what was Shostakovich nervous of and uneasy about? As a colleague of the composer said “it showed up the senseless vacuity and triteness of that everyday ‘rejoicing' which so gratified the authorities .” Shostakovich was a brave artist indeed.