Socialist Realism in Music

1. At the movies

One could say that composers were already wrestling with the demands of Socialist Realism before the name was invented or the party policies consolidated. The constraints were instead provided by the film industry, where composers had to score films on short schedules, in subordination to dramatic demands over which they usually had no control, and to the satisfaction of a much broader audience. Both Prokofiev and Shostakovich thrived under these challenges, even though they sometimes downplayed the seriousness of their efforts in retrospect. Shostakovich began composing successful works for film very early in his career. In A Girl Alone (1931), featuring an opening exotic motif driven by a phlegmatic bassoon, a young Leningrad teacher is sent to work in the remote Altai region, where the natives resent the shepherding labor lost from having to send their children to school:

  

The teacher quickly wins over the children and lets go of her bitterness. The adults, of course, eventually come to see the error of their ways and to appreciate the importance of (Soviet) education. Directed by the founders of the Factory for the Eccentric Actor, the film score incorporated a more satirical approach than would later be deemed acceptable, as you can hear in Shostakovich's depiction of the Chief sleeping and awaking:

  

Enjoy this polka from The Age of Gold ballet suite (1930), brimming with with, irony, and elements of parody: 

  

For a much more ambitious film collaboration, listen to Prokofiev's score for Eisenstein's Alexander Nevsky (1938): 

   

Prokofiev had returned to the USSR for good in 1932, and he soon made his peace with the mandate of Socialist Realism. Pronouncing himself ready to compose "lightly serious" and "seriously light" music that would be accessible to a larger audience, Prokofiev largely succeeded with this film score. He subsequently worked with Eisenstein on the score for Ivan the Terrible as well. If you're curious, listen to the introduction: 

   

Shostakovich similarly contributed the score to an early example of kinoleniniana—films about Lenin. In The Man with a Gun (1938), an ordinary soldier has a life-changing encounter with Il'ich, and Shostakovich's arrangements proved quite popular: 

  

2. Shostakovich

Dmitrii Shostakovich (1906-1975) is usually embraced as a truly "Soviet" composer, trained after the Revolution in Leningrad, and never spending the time abroad that made Stravinsky or Prokofiev so suspicious in the eyes of their compatriots.

The beginning of the second movement of the Fourth Symphony is a masterful rendition of Mahlerian sensibilities gone mad—or perhaps just chaotically playful: 

  

Without establishing any baseline of comparison from Shostakovich's youthful experimentation, let us move directly to the work which became emblematic of the tensions between modernist experimentation and Socialist Realism in music, Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (1932). In keeping with our philistine strategy so far, we will simply listen to two of the orchestral interludes to get a sense for how Shostakovich got into trouble: 

   

The opera actually enjoyed considerable critical success after its premier, playing for ninety-seven performances in Moscow before Stalin attended a performance and quickly made his disfavor known via an infamous editorial in Pravda entitled "Chaos Instead of Music." Shostakovich then treated the Fifth Symphony (1937) as his "creative answer to justified criticism." The middle portions of the first movement from the Fifth Symphony establish a nice contrast with his more obviously modernist work: 

   

But after you note the appeal of the movement's second theme (which begins this excerpt), ask yourself whether the accumulated effect is either triumphant or complacent.

For a good example of the problem of attributing specific stylistic motives accurately to a work seemingly overwhelmed by historical "context," listen to the first movement of Symphony No. 7 'Leningrad' (1941), with its use of a steady orchestral crescendo building on a simple theme in the manner of Ravel's Bolero: 

   

Shostakovich himself was contradictory about the origins of this symphony, at one point declaring that it had been planned before World War II began, and thus should not be seen as a "reaction" to Hitler's invading armies, whose inexorable advance this excerpt powerfully evokes. Yet the symphony was completed while Leningrad was being encircled by the Nazi armies, and premiered shortly before Shostakovich and his family were evacuated from the city in October 1941. It has thus understandably been seen as one of the most powerful musical representations of war in the twentieth century, and a remarkable testimony to human endurance amid overwhelming deprivation. More than that, it has been seen as a symbol of opposition to tyranny more generally. Think carefully about how you would assess its intended effect on the listener in light of your reading of Taruskin's essay. (Bartók's parody of this same motif can be heard in the final movement of the Concerto for Orchestra:) 

  

Symphony No. 7 in fact enjoyed official approbation, but matters become more difficult with Symphony No. 8 (1943), even though Shostakovich was working with many of the same wartime motifs (the first movement returns to the march theme you just heard). The third movement has much of the same drive as the previous excerpt, but this time the evocation of machine warfare is even darker: 

   

The cellist Mstislav Rostopovich, who was once a student of Shostakovich, later said of the Eighth Symphony, "It reflects all the complexity of modern man in the modern world. We act, and in acting quickly and thinking quickly, we never have time to stop and analyze ourselves. This is all the more the case today [1998]. Everything is getting more and more complicated and it's speeding up. In order to understand life at its deepest, you need tremendous intellectual strength. That is what Shostakovich had." While the work was not initially condemned, it was later avoided in public performance after Zhdanov's notorious speech in 1948.

In the late Stalin era, Shostakovich had the opportunity to visit Leipzig for the 200th anniversary of Bach's death in 1950. This seems to have inspired him to compose a series of 24 preludes and fugues as a kind of homage that would not invite charges of "formalism" or the like. To get a brief taste of this work, listen to No. 2 in A Minor and No. 15 in D flat Major.: 

   

and 

  

Shostakovich wrote his Tenth Symphony during the summer following Stalin's death in 1953. It is perhaps his best symphony overall, which has tempted many listeners to interpolate a sense of liberation on the composer's part. Listen to the intense second movement and see what you think: 

   

("Decay, cynicism, the howl of a maniac," wrote one Socialist Realist critic to himself upon first hearing this movement.) To the irritation of those close to Shostakovich, this movement has sometimes been taken as a "portrait" of Stalin. What do you think is the historical significance of this kind of attribution, and of the charges of "vulgarity" in response?

3. Prokofiev

Prokofiev addressed the demands of Socialist Realism in music somewhat more directly, especially with the Zdravitsa (Hail to Stalin) (op. 85), written for Stalin's 60th birthday in 1939:  

  

Here are the Russian lyrics. Here are the lyrics rendered in English:

Zdravitsa (Hail to Stalin)

There never was
a field so green,
there never was such joy -
the entire village is full of it.

Our lives were 
never so joyous,
our rye has never before
flourished so well.

The sun shines on the earth
for us in a different way:
it seems to have visited 
Stalin in the Kremlin.

I sing as I cradle my son
in my arms: 'You grow up
like a little ear of corn among the blue cornflowers.
Stalin will be the first words
on your lips.

You will understand from whence
this brilliant light streams.
In your exercise-book
you will draw Stalin's portrait.

Ah, all white ar the cherry orchards,
all white like mist.
My life has blossomed now
like the cherry-tree in spring!

Ah, the sunlight blazes and plays on
the shining dew-drops of the roses.
It is Stalin who has brought us 
this light, this warmth and this sunshine.

You will understand, my darling,
that its warmth
has reached you
across hills and mountains.

Ah, all white are the cherry orchards,
all white like mist.
My life has blossomed now
like the cherry-tree in spring!'

If only my youth were to return,
if only the Kiksha river were flowing north,
in only my eyes sparkled like they did at seventeen,
if only my cheeks were rosy like a ripe apple,
I would go to Moscow, the great city, and I would say 
a big thank you to Joseph Stalin.

He sees and hears everything, how the people live,
how the people live and work.
And he rewards everyone for their fine endeavors,
for their fine endeavors.

He invites everyone to see him in Moscow,
he greets them with kindness,
he speaks cheerfullly and kindly to everyone!

He sees and hears everything, how the people live,
how the people live and work.
And he rewards everyone for their fine endeavors,
for their fine endeavors.
He conducts his guests,
and shows them into a gleaming room.

He seats them at tables of oak
and questions them about everything,
he questions them and inquires:
how is their work, what do they need?
And he gives them wise advice.

He sees and hears everything, how the people live,
how the people live and work.
And he rewards everyone for their fine endeavors,
for their fine endeavors.

He invites everyone to see him in Moscow.
He greets them most cheerfully.
He greets them with great kindness
and gives them wise advice.

Ah, yesterday we were singing songs and revelling,
but it was not a toast for the auburn plait,
we weren't marrying off Aksinya - 
we were seeing off Aksinya on her visit to Stalin.

We saw her off on her journey to the capital Moscow,
and we decked her up like a young bride.
The lovely Aksinya went through the gates:
good looking and pretty she was in new boots.
We took her to the edge of our village
and with her we sent our greetings to Stalin.

He sees and hears everthing, how the people live,
how the people live and work.
And he rewards everyone for their fine endeavors,
for their fine endeavors.

He invites everyone to see him in Moscow,
he greets them with kindness,
he speaks wisely and cheerfully to everyone!

O Stalin, you have borne many misfortunes.
Many misfortune you have borne and accepted
much suffering for the people's sake.
For protesting the tsar destroyed us,
he destroyed us for protesting.
He left women without men folk,
he left them without men folk.
You have opened up new roads for us,
you have open up new roads.
We are happy to follow you, happy to follow.

You vista is our vista, dear leader!
Your thoughts are the thoughts of each of us!
You are the banner of our high fortress,
you are the flame of our thoughts and blood.
Stalin, Stalin!

Folksong adopted by A. Mashistov
Translation: Philip Taylor © 2003

4. Khachaturian

A worthy successor to Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff as a melodist, Aram Khachaturian (1903-1978) was born to Armenian parents in Tbilisi, and trained in Moscow in the 1930s. He set his first ballet, Gayaneh (1942), in an Armenian cotton cooperative, nominal inspiration for lushly-orchestrated orientalist themes that included the Sabre Dance for which he is perhaps best known: 

   

You can get a better sense for how his melodies have seeped into popular culture by listening to the adagio of Spartacus and Phrygia from his second ballet, Spartacus (1954): 

   

The obvious political appeal of the story of a slave uprising against the Romans, in combination with Khachaturian's enchanting musical themes, lent the work great success (and resulted in a Lenin Prize for Khachaturian in 1959). He is the only Soviet composer to emerge from the non-Russian national musical projects and achieve world fame. Frolova-Walker points to the irony in this outcome, since Khachaturian's work in no way challenged the Russian orientalist style. He was even treated as somehow representative of the entire Soviet Orient, capable of generalizing all these diverse traditions. Having read Taruskin's essay, how do you think we should gauge the historical (as opposed to creative) significance of Khachaturian's work?

5. Hajibeyov

The previous pages are devoted to canonical figures, but we should acknowledge what happens when the musical conservatory tradition inherited by the Soviets is then expanded to the national republics. Amir suggests that we consider the case of Uzeyir Hajibeyov [Гаджибеков], who is generally considered the father of Azerbaijani opera. Here is a clip that speaks to the main themes from the 1936 opera Koroğlu [Кёроглы, The Son of a Blind Man]:

Koroğlu

If you are curious, here is an extended scene:

Hajibekov Köroğlu opera