Apropos 9 August, 1975: Shostakovich, Rostrapovich and Temirkanov

Warner Classics 2564 64177-2 (2007 compilation)
Shostakovich: Complete Symphonies
Galina Vishnevskaya (soprano) (Symphony #14)
Nicola Ghiuselev (bass) (Symphony #13)
Mark Reshitin (bass) (Symphony #14)
London Voices (Symphonies #s 2 & 3)
Men of the Choral Arts Society of Washington (Symphony #13)
National Symphony Orchestra
London Symphony Orchestra
Academic Symphony Orchestra, Moscow
Mistislav Rostrapovich


This 12-disc set from 2007 brings together recordings made between 1973 and 1997 with at least three different orchestras for as many labels. The performances run a fairly steep gamut from a lackluster, yawn-inducing 8th (with the LSO from 1992 for TelDec/Erato), to the brilliant, stunning 14th, perhaps the greatest performance of a Shostakovich symphony every committed to disc.

Rostrapovich's classic--and still unequaled-- 1973 reading of the 14th with his wife, soprano Galina Vishnevskaya, bass Mark Reshitin, and  the Academic Symphony Orchestra of Moscow originally appeared on the old Soviet Melodiya label, subsequently re-issued in the US on a CBS/Melodiya LP (M 34507 (1977)) and on CD first by Melodiya (SUCD 10-00241) in 1991 just before the breakup of the USSR, and later on the obscure Revelation label (RV 10101 (1998))--a poor transfer at best.

I cannot complain about Warner Classics' transfer; it is probably as good as it's possible to get, although still vexed by the original recording's odd acoustic quirks and sometimes-jarring spatial perspective, the tape hiss is mostly gone, and the performances are still as unforgettably passionate, fiery, driven, and utterly electrifying as when first committed to tape over forty years ago. (Complete-ists and sticklers for historical detail may be interested to note that Benjamin Britten conducted a live performance of the 14th with the same soloists and the English Chamber Orchestra two years prior to the Melodyia recording, on 14 June, 1970. This performance, coupled with a 1967 reading of Britten's Nocturne Op. 60, was available for a while on the BBC Legends label (BBCB 8013-2 (1990)) and a fine performance it is, though certainly lacking that last full measure of fire Rostrapovich would so memorably bring to the work.

Other high points of the Rostrapovich integral set include what may be the best interpretation of the often-overlooked 12th Symphony from 1960--Rostrapovich's 1997 recording with the LSO goes a long way to convince me that this is more than a thematically-impoverished piece of note-spinning, but a work of genuine drama and substance. A very fine 6th, also with the LSO--and coupled with the 12th; a well-played and not-too over-the-top 5th; a superb 7th, an aptly quirky 1st, a well-paced, if a bit thin-textured, 9th, and a moving, heartfelt 13th with the National Symphony of Washington D.C., which gets one of the best performances on record, worthy to stand alongside truly great readings by Bernard Haitink (Decca), Eugene Ormandy (RCA), Neeme Jarvi (DG), and the 2014 Vasily Petrenko outing for Naxos

With the already-noted exception of the Melodiya 14th, the re-mastered sound in this set is fairly consistent from one disc to the next, notwithstanding the near-two-decade time span over which these recordings were made. Many of TelDec's original issues featured maddeningly low  dynamic levels, which often necessitated a good deal of knob-twisting; but EMI's transfer engineers seem to have addressed this issue with some success.

Attractively priced and handsomely packaged, this set will make a welcome addition to any serious collection. Die-hard Shostakovich complete-ists will want it not only for the 14th, but as a document of a great musical association between the composer and one of his most ardent interpretive champions and dearest personal friends (akin in its way to the recordings of Mahler by Bruno Walter and Otto Klemperer), but it has much to offer the classical-music beginner, and novice collector  as well.

Recommended!

Sony 88843063602 (2014)
Temirkanov conducts Shostakovich
Shostakovich: Symphonies 1, 5, 6, 7, 9, 13;
Cello Concertos 1 and 2; Concerto for Piano, Trumpet & Strings;
The Song of the Forests
Yuri Termirkanov/St. Petersburg Philharmonic etc.


Temirkanov's Shostakovich is something of an interpretive mixed bag, and while I would not go so far as to characterize any of these recordings as "essential", it's nice nonetheless to have them all together in this attractive 6-disc box-set compilation from 2014. Sony assembles all the performances Temirkanov recorded with the St. Petersburg Philharmonic for RCA/BMG in the early to mid 1990s, including six of the fifteen symphonies (#s 1, 5, 6, 7, 9, and 13), the early Concerto for Piano, Trumpet and Strings, Op. 35, and the 1948 patriotic cantata The Song of the Forests, as well as the two concertos for cello, recorded in 1988 and 1990 with soloist Natalia Gutmann and the Royal Philharmonic. As with all the sets in Sony's long-running Masters series, no notes or commentary are included, though much useful information can be found on the back of the sturdy individual cardboard sleeves in which each disc is housed.

The recorded sound in the symphonies can be a tad dry, exacerbating what comes across to my ears as a rather rough-edged orchestral quality. Temirkanov's approach is considerably less "prettified" than workmanlike and steady. His rather disappointing reading of the 1st Symphony lacks buoyancy and wit, while his performance of the 'Leningrad' seems long-winded and gratuitously bombastic (I'd recommend Vasily Petrenko's marvelous reading for Naxos instead). The 5th and 6th have a raw power to them, the performances are dramatic, thoughtfully paced, and have a sufficient grandeur, though I do not get the feeling that Temirkanov and his musicians are penetrating the sublimely anguished soul of the music.

The 9th may well be the true "find" of this set, sparkling, marvelously frenetic, and full of athletic vim, ranking alongside Jansons on EMI and Petrenko on Naxos. The 13th is sufficiently dark, though it does not rise to the same rarefied interpretive heights of Rostrapovich, Haitink. Ormandy, or Petrenko. The two concertos for cello are viscerally engaging and very fine notwithstanding recorded sound that seems harsh with the solo instrument too "up front" at times. (Rostropovich's 1960 performance of the first concerto with Ormandy is still an unequaled benchmark for that iconic work.) The youthful c-minor piano concerto is treated here less like a chamber-istic romp than some darkly sardonic Prokofiev-ian statement with what some listeners may regard as an overly heavy orchestral presence. Again, there's an acerbic, almost arid, quality to the sound in places, though soloist Denis Matsuev is truly superb, and subsequent hearings have done much to convince me of the "right-ness" of these collaborators' approach.

The Song of the Forests gets an excellent, dynamically committed  and thoroughly convincing performance in first-rate sound. Shostakovich's relentlessly  diatonic paean to the glories of Stalin and Stalinism is here presented with the revised (post-1957-denunciation) text. Temirkanov discovers a darker, subtly ironic underlying qualities in the score at once surprising and marvelously effective.

For many, this set may fall into the category of a diverting curiosity. Comparative interpretation can be fascinating, and those interested in hearing a Russian conductor leading a Russian orchestra in this quintessentially Russian repertory may well find a thing or two to enjoy.

Gottfried August Homilius: A Basic Discography

Gottfried August Homilius (1714-1785) was a gifted pupil of J.S. Bach, and long-time kappelmeister at the Kreuz- and Frauen- kirches in Dresden. As with so many of his contemporaries, including several of Bach's own sons, Homilius has fallen through the stylistic cracks of  history; born a bit too early to be considered a full-blown Classicist, nor a textbook example of the Gallant, yet too late to be comfortably included in the waning Baroque school. Thus, his music is often eclectic, reflecting many sometimes-conflicting influences, from Bach and Handel to Haydn and the early Mannheim school. Nonetheless, the music is always accessibly melodious, graceful and charming (if occasionally approaching quaintness). In the last few years, the German Carus label has released an impressive series of recordings, making the best possible case for this unjustly neglected master.

For the curious listener, a good place to begin may be Carus 83-268, Music for the Frauenkirche Dresden, Jubilaumsedition. This attractive two-disc "Jubilee edition" from 2014 includes festive cantatas as well as the complete Christmas Oratorio, the final chorus from the St. John Passion, a number of interesting chorale preludes realized for trumpet solo and organ, and a charming sonata for oboe and continuo. I might have wished for the inclusion of several of the superb motets for a cappella choir, and possibly an excerpt or two from the marvelous St. Mark Passion, but those are readily available on albums of their own (see below), and well worth seeking out in any case.

1.Carus 83-268 (2-disc set) (2014)
Homilius Music for the Frauenkirche Dresden, Jubilaumsedition
various artists
(contains previously released material from #s 3, 6, 8, 12)

2.
Brilliant Classics 94458 (2-disc set) (2015)
Homilius: Complete Organ Chorales
Felix Marangoni

3.
Carus 83-236 (2010)
Homilius: Erwachet ihr Christen
(Chorale Preludes, Cantatas, Oboe Sonata)
Ludwig Güttler/Saxony Vocal Ensemble et al.

4.
Carus 83-210 (2004)
Homilius: Sehet, Welch eine Liebe: Motets
Friederich Bernius/Stuttgart Chamber Choir

5.
Carus 83-266 (2013)
Homilius: Habe deine lust an dem Hern: Motets II
Stefan Schuck/Serventes Berlin

6.
Carus 83-183 (2005)
Homilius: Cantatas I
Roderich Kreile/Dresden Kreutzchor/Dresden Baroque Orchestra

7.
Carus 83-267 (2014)
Homilius: Warum toben die Heiden (Cantatas)
Reiner Johannes Homburg/Handel's Company

8. Carus 83-235 (2008)
Dresden Frauenkirche
Homilius: Christmas Oratorio: Die Freude der Hirten uber die Geburt Jesu
Jacobi: Der Himmel steht unds wieder offen (cantata)
Ludwig Güttler/Virtuosi Saxoniae

9.
Carus 83-262 (2007)
Homilius: Passion Cantata
Fritz Näf/Neue Düseldorfer Hofmusik/Basel Madrigalists

10.
Berlin Classics BC 1046-2 (1993)
Homilius: St. Matthew Passion
Christopher Schoener/Academy for Ancient Music, Berlin/Capella Vocale Leverkusen

11.
Carus 83-260 (2013)
Homilius: St. Mark Passion
Fritz Näf/Basel Madrigalists/Munich Baroque Orchestra et al.

12.
Carus 83-261 (2007)
Homilius: St. John Passion
Roderich Kreile/Dresden Kreutzchor/Dresden Baroque Orchestra

Psalms from Schubert to Schoenberg

Christophorus CHR 77396 (2015)
Psalmus (T'hilim): Psalms in Christian Jewish Dialogue
(settings by Rheinberger, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Lewandowski, Rose, Mishory, Schoenberg)
Micahel Alber/Deutscher Kammerchor 


Released in May 2015 to coincide with celebrations marking the sixtieth anniversary of diplomatic relations between the former West Germany (Bundesrepublik) and the state of Israel, this fine disc offers an interesting program of choral psalm settings in Hebrew and German by Jewish, Protestant, and Catholic composers from the 19th to the 21st centuries, ranging stylistically from Schubert to Schoenberg,

The early to mid-19th century marked a period in the nascent Reform movement in which a growing spirit of ecumenicism and modernity brought great change to the musical life of the synagogue. Composers such as Solomon Sultzer (1804-1890), Jacques Halévy, Samuel Naumbourg, and  Louis Lewandowski (1821-1894), introduced “contemporary” harmonies and choral technique, while, on occasion, notable non-Jewish composers were invited to contribute works to this expanding liturgical repertory.

Indeed, I was intrigued and delighted to note the inclusion of Schubert’s a cappella setting of Psalm 92 in Hebrew (D 953). Though the work may well be considered something of a curiosity due to the unfamiliar (to most) language of the text, it is very much of a piece with Schubert’s typical, cheerfully lyrical, accessibly dramatic liturgical compositions for the Catholic church, and it’s wonderful to have this work in my collection at last.

Almost anyone who has ever attended a Friday-night Sabbath-eve service at a Reform temple has probably heard something by Louis Lewandowski; his L’cha dodi and Ma Tovu have been standards of the synagogue repertory for well over one-hundred-fifty years, and there’s little doubt as to why. Reading one of Lewandowski’s scores is like taking a crash course in 19th-century choral composition and style. The music is blithe, strikingly tuneful, and engaging, displaying the positive influences of Mendelssohn and Brahms at almost every turn. Along with the works of Solomon Sulzer, Lewandowski’s music has over the years assumed a kind of revered traditional “brought down from the mountain with Moses” status. Happily, this present disc includes Psalm settings by Lewandowski both in Hebrew and German. His marvelous Hebrew setting of Psalm 21 is particularly delightful and affecting.

Other highlights surely include the Drei Psalmen (Three Psalms) Op. 40 by the Catholic composer Joseph Gabriel Rheinberger (1839-1901), and the Psalm 92 by Alfred Rose (1955-1919), as well as Mendelssohn’s setting of Psalm 22, probably the most familiar piece in the program.

I was somewhat less impressed by the militantly dissonant, gimmick-heavy,  22-minute Wasserpsalm (Water Psalm) from 2014 by the Israeli pianist/composer Gilead Mishory (b. 1960). While the piece is certainly colorful notwithstanding its rather tired-sounding Schnitke-esque onomatopoeic vocal effects, and the performance, so far as I can surmise, adequately competent, it simply doesn’t seem to fit very well within the emotional or aural context of this program, and the creative choice to follow it up and close out the record with Schoenberg’s De Profundis feels, in retrospect, rather unfortunate. (Several subsequent hearings have done little to alter this opinion.)

Nonetheless, conductor Michael Alber has sculpted a polished, full, yet transparent sound ideal with his chorus. The singers seem well at ease with most of this repertory, shining especially in those tuneful, diatonically pleasing works of Schubert, Mendelssohn, Rheinberger, and Lewandowski. The recorded sound is superb.

A minor complaint: I must take issue with the Christophorus label’s packaging. The feather-light all-in-one booklet-style jewel-case makes no provision for the documentation insert, which floats around loose inside the cardboard wallet, thus making it liable to misplacement or loss. The use of ultra-light clear styrene plastic for the inner media tray does not bode well for long-term storage, as this type of material is prone to brittleness and hairline cracking, which are easily transferred to the disc surface over time.

Complaints aside, though, this disc will make a notable and worthy addition to any collection of choral liturgical music. Recommended.

Classic Americana

Albany (American Archives Series) TROY 256 (1997)

(Columbia mono recordings from 1953-1955)

Piston: Symphony #4

Harris: Symphony #7

W. Schuman: Symphony #6

Eugene Ormandy/Philadelphia Orchestra

Recorded in 1953 and 1954 respectively, the Schuman and Piston symphonies first appeared on Columbia ML 4992 (1955). The superb—definitive!—reading of Roy Harris’ Symphony #7 from 1955 was recorded that year, and issued on Columbia ML 5095 (1956), coupled with Serge Koussevitzky’s equally moving rendition of Harris’ Symphony ‘1933’ with the Boston Symphony Orchestra. These recordings were available on LP well into the 1970s on the Columbia Special Products label, retaining the same catalog numbers with the exception of the CSP AML prefix.

One suspects that only so much could be done with the original masters. Columbia’s 50s-era recorded sound was often rather compressed and ‘boxy’, though with a sufficient hint of resonance to convey seriousness and weight. Albany’s 1996 re-masterings open up the aural spectrum somewhat, and offer what comes as close to a natural sound as possible.

Nonetheless, it’s great to have Ormandy’s magnificent reading of the Harris Seventh on CD. This is one of the composer’s finest, and most perplexingly neglected major works. Conceptually organic, reminiscent structurally of the Third, though perhaps, in its totality, a more serious statement, the Seventh is certainly more concentrated and consistent in mood and atmosphere--qualities that Ormandy no doubt discerned, and endeavored to convey in his performance. 

Ormandy was one of Harris’ most enthusiastic champions, recording the Third several times both for CBS and RCA. The conductor would go on to lead the world-premiere of Piston's Seventh Symphony in 1960. 

"Home Team" Sibelius

Ondine ODE 852-2 (1996)
Sibelius: 4 Lemminkänen Legends Op. 22;
Tapiola (Symphonic Poem for Orchestra) Op. 112
Leif Segerstam/Helsinki Philharmonic Orchetra


Wow! Listening to  Segerstam's vivid, highly animated performances is like hearing this music for the very first time--an experience akin to one of those magical moments of youthful discovery, all too rare in later years. I've been collecting the music of Sibelius on LP and CD for over four decades now, and these may well be some of the most singularly exciting, passionately committed performances I've ever heard.

This disc brings together early and late compositions of Jean Sibelius (1965-1957), the youthful Four Legends (of Lemminkäinen) from the 'Kalevala', Op. 22, written between 1893 and 1895 when the composer was 30, and the tone poem Tapiola, Op. 112 from 1926 when he was 61, the composer's last orchestral work before his long, three-decade silence.

Casual listeners will probably be familiar with the beautiful third movement of Op. 22, the haunting Swan of Tuonela with its darkly lyrical English Horn solo accompanied by eerily shimmering strings. There are dozens of stand-alone performances of this iconic movement, but it is always enlightening to hear it in the context of the whole. Many conductors have done the suite justice, from Okko Kamu's magnificent 1976 reading for DG to Neeme Jarvi's dynamically compelling 1984 performance with the Gothenburg Symphony for BIS. Yet, great as they are, these outings seem positively pedestrian compared to Segerstam, who takes the music at what many long-time listeners may regard as an unusually fast tempo--only to heighten its drama and linear coherence. The four movements are treated as a unified whole--and a good case could be made that this work is, in fact, a symphony in the truest traditional sense. From the lush horn chords that seem to hang forebodingly on the air in the opening bars of Lemminkäinen and the Maidens of Saari to the frenetic rush of the strings in the closing moments of Lemminkäinen's Homeward Journey, this is a truly unforgettable performance.

Likewise, Segerstam's Tapiola is a stunning epiphany! Sibelius' ingeniously mature music has often been weighed down by a kind of grim grandiosity, a glacial inertia that renders it nebulous at best, or, at worst, nearly inscrutable. Yet, while one is certainly aware of the scale and sweep of the music here, Segerstam imbues his reading with an electrifying sense of drive along with a luminous, seraphic self-possession. I've never heard a performance of this work that seemed so aggressively visceral, dynamic, driven, hair-raisingly theatrical, and downright exciting. Nor does Segerstam shrink from the innate eroticism of the score. After the inexorable, relentless build-up of tension, the deliberately-effected crescendo of the slow long line, the wild, orgasmic howls of the brass near the end almost knocked me out of my chair!

Not only is the Finnish "home team" Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra gorgeously recorded here by Ondine, capturing every detail and subtle nuance of the scores, but there is a passionate energy in the playing--a deep love--that shines through at every turn.

Enthusiastically recommended.

Happy 150th! Ole Schmidt's Nielsen

LP series: 
Unicorn KPM 7001 (1974) (Symphony #1)
Unicorn KPM 7002 (1974) (Symphony #2)
Unicorn KPM 7003 (1974) (Symphony #3)
Unicorn KPM 7004 (1974) (Symphony #4)
Unicorn KPM 7005 (1974) (Symphony #5)
Unicorn KPM 7006 (1974) (Symphony #6)
CD re-issues: 
Regis RRC 3002 (3-disc set) (2008)
Alto (Musical Concepts) ALC 2505 (3-disc set) (2013)
Carl Nielsen: Complete Symphonies 1-6
Ole Schmidt/London Symphony Orchestra


The great Danish composer Carl Nielsen was born 150 years ago this week, on 8 June, 1865, and I would certainly be remiss to ignore the occasion. You can read some of my broader thoughts about this fascinating musical figure in my recent review of Decca's 2014 Collector's Edition box set here.

Ole Schmidt's marvelous 1973 traversal of the symphonies with the LSO was released as a series of separate LPs on the Unicorn label the following year. Schmidt's was the first complete cycle to be recorded entirely in stereo, and, in many ways, encouraged major labels to take a closer look at --and a bolder chance on-- this music, thus laying the groundwork for many great records of the future. The sound is inviting, sumptuous, and vivid with a deep, resonant ambiance. The orchestral playing is impeccable. Schmidt's interpretations are, for the most part, profoundly compelling, making a near-airtight case for these ingenious, quirky, electrifying compositions. This cycle remains the benchmark for this repertory, in spite of many fine subsequent efforts (Chung, Blomstedt etc.). The last three symphonies, especially,  are Promethean in their luminous passion and implacable drive. My only complaint is with the Sinfonia Espansiva, where Schmidt inexplicably drops the ball--not to mention the taut thread of the long line-- in the finale. This is doubly disappointing given the compelling magnificence of all the rest.

The 3-disc Alto re-issue from 2013 would be a bargain at many times its modest budget price. The re-masterings (one assumes they are the same ones as on the earlier Regis set) are excellent, akin to an expert art-restorer's clean-up of a beloved Rembrandt or Titian, and the transfers are first rate.

Hearing these wonderful performances again reminded me of how I fell in love with this music--but more importantly, of why.

Enthusiastically recommended!

Shostakovich Cantatas

Erato 0825646166664 (2015)
Shostakovich Cantatas
The Execution of Stepan Razin Op. 119
The Song of the Forests Op. 81
The Sun Shines Over Our Motherland Op. 90
Alexi Tanovitski (bass), Konstantin Andreyev (tenor)
Estonian National Concert Choir
Estonian National Symphony Orchestra
Paavo Jarvi


If you get this gloriously-recorded disc for no other reason, get it for the revelatory, ineluctably electrifying performance of Shostakovich's 1964 setting of Yevgeniy Yevtushenko's The Execution of Stepan Razin, the composer's opus 119. Cut from the same sardonic, darkly brilliant cloth as the 13th Symphony from two years earlier, also to texts of Yevtushenko (sometimes referred to as "The Soviet Bob Dylan"), this dramatically compelling cantata--still too little known in the West--recounts the gory details of the famous Cossack rebel's 1671 execution in Moscow, with probing--and occasionally disturbing-- emphasis on the reaction of the witnessing masses. The Estonian National Symphony Orchestra and Concert Choir under Estonian-American conductor Paavo Jarvi offer a stunningly visceral performance, capturing the score in all its lurid ferocity and gut-wrenching dynamism. The recorded sound is magnificent, aptly resonant and unapologetically full-blown.

The two earlier cantatas, well-performed and presented here in their best possible light, rate as glittering curiosities, though--make no mistake--this is impeccably crafted music with occasional flashes of anachronistic brilliance. It's just not "great" music, and certainly not great Shostakovich. Mawkishly grandiose, bombastic, saccharine paeans to Stalin and the vaunted glories of Stalinism, The Song of the Forests Op. 81 from 1949, and The Sun Shines Over Our Motherland Op. 90 from 1952 are settings of nationalist doggerel by the Soviet poet Yevgeniy Dolmatovsky, later revised to reflect the new political reality following Khrushchev's 1957 denunciation of his predecessor. (The original versions of the texts are presented on this recording.)  The music is relentlessly consonant, and stylistically reactionary; in fact, so utterly un-Shostakovich-like that, if asked to listen to these pieces unaware of their composer, many listeners could be forgiven for an honest mistake in naming Glazunov, Rachmaninoff, or even Glinka. The Song of the Forests does have its moments; the spritely Glinka-esque second movement, and the sprawling, grandiloquent fugal finale with its interesting orchestral touches make for entertaining listening. In the end, though, it's all rather empty, as if someone served up an ornate dish of cotton candy and called it a gourmet dessert. Shostakovich's youthful forays into socialist realism--the 2nd and 3rd symphonies from the 1920s  or even the tunefully populist 12th from 1960--are modernist masterpieces by comparison. Unredeemed even by the composer's signature tongue-in-cheek banality, the cantatas contain no hidden anti-communist messages, no sly inside jokes, or furtive, court-jester-ish nose-thumbing. The composer  reportedly retreated to his Leningrad hotel room following the November 1949 premiere of Song of the Forests, buried his head under a pillow, and wept before drowning his apparent embarrassment in a vodka bottle. While it's doubtful these recordings will elicit a similar response from listeners (and, in any case, I strongly suspect that this anecdote is apocryphal), this often forced, artificially "pretty" music wears thin fairly fast.

Erato, unfortunately, does not include original texts or translations in the booklet accompanying the disc. The essay by Andrew Huth overplays the now more-or-less discredited ideas of Simon Volkov, portraying the composer in starkly black-and-white terms as an artistic martyr, suffering relentlessly under the philistine constraints of the Soviet system. Certainly true to some degree, but persuasive arguments can be made, in light of correspondence made available to scholars since 1991, that the man who aggressively curried Stalin's favor, lobbying for every benefit available to elites within the Soviet regime, going so far as to join the Communist Party as late as 1960 (when it was no longer necessary for survival or professional advancement), and further refusing to stand in solidarity with bona fide dissidents who were supposedly his friends--Rostrapovich, Vishnevskaya etc.-- was, in all likelihood, a perfectly normal artistic pragmatist living in times that allowed very little space for compromise one way or the other.

Wholeheartedly recommended for the world-class performance and superb recording of Op. 119. Shostakovich complete-ists will want it for the earlier cantatas as well.