This ArtsWatch contributor decided on the full immersion approach to the Shostakovich Festival presented by Friends of Chamber Music this past March 15 through 21 at Portland State University’s Lincoln Hall. (Read our preview here). Instead of reviewing a single concert or even a single quartet, this article will give readers a taste of the whole experience. 

The Jerusalem Quartet:

• Alexander Pavlovsky, violin
• Sergei Bresler, violin
• Ori Kam, viola
• Kyril Zlotnikov, cello

Several of us devoted audience members had already heard the Jerusalem Quartet perform all 15 of the Shostakovich quartets, although in a different order, when the quartet visited Portland in 2013. We had been impressed by their performance then, but this time we exchanged looks of amazement at the first intermission of the opening performance. It was as if there was even more depth and artistry than before. The virtuosity of the first violinist was breathtaking, as was the richness and flexibility of the viola, the full throated cello, and the flawless ensemble playing of the whole group. The dynamic range included the composer’s fortissimo screams all the way to the point where we were not sure we were really hearing it. The Jerusalem prides itself on having a “warm, full, human sound and an egalitarian balance between high and low voices” (artist website). All of this proved true in their performances, and seems especially appropriate for their interpretation of Shostakovich, whose humanity was existentially tested as he fought to maintain his voice in the face of brutal repression.

Founded in 1993, with its subsequent debut in 1995, the Jerusalem Quartet is now fully into its 30th year. Three of the four members were born in the former Soviet Union: founding members violinists Pavlovsky and Bresler in Ukraine and cellist Zlotnikov in Belarus. They emigrated to Israel around 1991, and the three have been playing together since their teenage years. Violist Ori Kam, who joined the quartet in 2011, was born in California of Israeli parents, but grew up in Israel. All four of them have been exposed to famous performers such as Isaac Stern, Itzhak Perlman, Daniel Barenboim, and Menahem Presler, either through master classes or collaborations. They all have impressive backgrounds as soloists and collaborators with other artists, and they all play legendary instruments: Pavlovsky’s is a 1696 Stradivarius, Bresler’s a 1770 Storing, and Zlotnikov’s cello is a 1610 Amati of Cremona. Kam’s viola by Hiroshi Iizuka is contemporary but legendary in its own right. 

Panel Discussion

The panel discussion on Monday, March 19 revealed some interesting insights. Violist Kam was absent due to a short business trip, but the other three answered questions from All Classical’s John Pitman and from the audience. Their English seemed much more fluent than during the panel of 12 years ago. Violinist Pavlovsky talked about the physical and emotional requirements and the many rehearsals necessary for this series of quartets. When someone commented on their growth over the past 12 years, he compared the string quartet to a good wine, which takes time to develop fully and for the flavor to become more complex. When asked about their opinion of Portland, Cellist Zlotnikov appreciates “so much nature,” since they live most of their lives in closed spaces. 

While we would not necessarily consider Shostakovich a “classical composer,” the group agreed that he could be thought of as the last classical composer, starting with papa Haydn, presumably because of many of the quartets’ adherence to classical structure and form. As for the individual quartets, the public has always favored No. 8 because of the saturation of Shostakovich’s personal theme, represented by the DSCH signature (see discussion of quartet No. 8 below). However, second violinist Bresler spoke in favor of No. 9 as “very special,” and also No. 6 as the most peaceful. They all agreed that No. 13 was “hardest to put together.” 

Interplay

Aside from the uniformity of their black tuxedo jackets worn over black t-shirts, black pants and black shoes (cellist and violist in patent leather, violinists in conventional leather), there were certain divergences among the musicians. From the beginning, there seemed to be more communication between the cellist and the two violinists than with the violist, who sat at a slight distance from the others. While the cellist frequently looked over at the violinists, violist Kam looked solidly at his music, despite the fact of impeccable ensemble playing. Every entry and every pause seemed perfect. When a member of the audience mentioned the subject of communication during the panel discussion, cellist Zlotnikov was quick to reply, “The most important thing with string quartets is not how you play but how you listen,” and that they listen to each other intently. As the week progressed, the violist moved slightly further away from the others, and even during the curtain calls at the end, he seemed to keep some distance from the other three.

Audience

The Shostakovich demographic was noticeably different from the usual chamber music audience — slightly younger, even more informally dressed, and serious. They clearly appreciated both Shostakovich and the quality of the Jerusalem’s interpretation. There was no coughing, they knew when to applaud, and they did so enthusiastically, at times wildly. There was only one concert where they did not give a standing ovation before the intermission (unusual even for Portland), which, for some reason, was after No. 11. Maybe people were just getting tired by that time. For most of them the house was a little less populated than for the usual chamber music concerts, but for the concert featuring quartets number 7, 8, and 9 it was at least three quarters full. 

The musicians communicated their respect for both the music and the audience using their body language. At the conclusion of a quartet they would often hold their positions to give the audience time to appreciate the silence. Sometimes they would hold their bows in the air for many seconds, or at other times remain hunched over their instruments long after the last notes had died. After the last concert the applause continued for many curtain calls, and at one point first violinist Pavlovsky picked up the sheet music, held it up high, and pointed to the music with the tip of his bow to make sure that we were applauding the composer as well as the players.

A Whole Week of Shostakovich?

Why would anyone take a week out of their busy life to devote to chamber music? And not Mozart or Beethoven or some nice mixture of popular composers, but Shostakovich, a nervous 20th-Century Russian who liked dissonance. Frequently at odds with the Soviet regime, he was so afraid of being picked up by the authorities in the middle of the night that he kept a suitcase packed and ready by the front door. He wanted to minimize the trauma to his children. It’s not surprising that his anxiety and lack of confidence found their ways into his music, mixed with great artistry and beauty.

One of Shostakovich’s best outlets was his chamber music, much of which flew under the radar, especially before Stalin’s death in 1953, because quartets were not nearly as public as his symphonies and concertos. Some, like quartet No. 4, he kept to himself for years before it was ever performed. Although 15 string quartets is an impressive number, each of them unique in a variety of ways, the composer told a friend that he really intended to compose 24, one for every key. The world is poorer for the absence of the other nine.

But why indeed should we opt for total immersion? One reason is that we almost never hear Shostakovich’s chamber music on the radio. It is not often featured in live concerts, and even then it would most likely be No. 8, the most popular of his quartets. (It’s unlikely to be No. 1, which is uncharacteristically sunny and therefore atypical, and very unlikely to be No. 15, which is funereal from beginning to end.)

Never Boring Always Interesting

Some of us could almost be considered Shostakovich groupies, or at least enthusiasts. I would happily repeat the whole experience in the next year or so. Perhaps it’s because Shostakovich’s chamber music is made up of so many opposing characteristics, like the  juxtaposition of melody and abstraction, or classical structure and idiosyncratic passages. Sometimes the music is mysterious and at other times very direct. But it’s always interesting.

These quartets also exhibit a huge emotional range from screaming harshness to muted tenderness. Dissonance leads to resolution, then to dissonance again, and then the theme can wander off in another direction altogether. Shostakovich entertains us with surprise, sarcasm (particularly in his scherzos), and unmitigated beauty. Sometimes when it seems as though a movement will surely end with some kind of resolution, it just disintegrates into thin air.

Especially in the earlier quartets, Shostakovich sticks to classical structure, despite his unusual modulations. But unlike Haydn, where the first violin tends to carry the theme, all four of the instruments in these quartets display their unique voices — sometimes in solos or duets, as in No. 7, where much of this short quartet consists of violin themes and a long cello monologue. In quartet No. 12, the composer makes a foray into serialism, opening with the cello playing a twelve tone melody, but it eventually resolves into tonality.

Throughout these quartets Shostakovich interweaves folk music motifs, especially the Russian and Jewish themes most apparent in Quartets No. 2 and No. 4, but evident in several of them, and he also introduces themes from his symphonies and other works, such as his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District. In several quartets there are hints of Bach (said to be his favorite composer), Mahler, Bartók, Wagner, and even Rossini!

Quartet Samples

Quartet No. 2 in A major, Op. 68

Longer than No. 1 and classical in sonata form, this quartet is particularly appealing for its operatic qualities. Its first movement, labeled “Overture,” opens with an emphatic statement followed by a descending fifth, which is repeated throughout the movement. In the second, well named as “Recitative and Romance,” the first violin does some very expressive singing and the other members join in the chorus. Evidently the word, “romance” is what the Russians used for “art song.” The third movement, “Valse” is not really for dancing as it is fast, dark, and brooding. In the finale, “Theme and Variations,” the theme has both Russian and Jewish characteristics. The variations build excitement by progressively increasing in tempo until the original theme returns in a robust final statement.

Quartet No. 4 in D major, Op.83

Shostakovich composed this quartet in 1949, but kept it to himself until it was premiered in 1953, the year of Stalin’s death. His symphonic music had for a time been banned, which Stalin had lifted so the composer could make a brief (obligatory) visit to the U.S. Again in classical framework, this time the movements have the conventional tempo descriptions, most of them Allegretto. The second movement, marked Andantino, is a haunting, almost heart-breaking romance, one of the most beautiful of his melodies. This is followed by a brief scherzo, mysterious and muted, with passages revealing his penchant for anapestic rhythm (think “William Tell Overture”). The finale is an intense, heavy-footed dance with Jewish themes, but instead of a vigorous finale, a return to the misty aura created by the Andantino’s romance.

Quartet No. 8 in C minor, Op. 110

With the exception of the fourth movement, the whole quartet could be thought of as an extended theme with variations. Shostakovich’s most popular quartet, it is the most frequently recorded, and it was the concert with the largest audience in FOCM’s Festival. This quartet was composed during a visit Shostakovich paid to the city of Dresden in 1960. He had intended to work on a film score, but was so moved by the devastation he saw all around him that he composed this quartet instead. Perhaps he was reminded of the siege of his own city, Leningrad, that took place while he was safely exiled to a city in Central Asia. The official dedication of the quartet is to the victims of war and fascism. However, the ubiquitous presence of his signature in the work has led to the theory that he meant to dedicate it to himself, a victim of another (Soviet) fascism. Some even believed that he meant it to serve as his own memorial since he had joked about it to a friend. 

The five movements are played “attacca,” without pause, and bound together by a common theme. The composer’s initials DSCH appear in the first notes of the opening Largo. D for Dmitri; S in German musical notation is “Es,” or E flat; then C; then H, which in German notation is B natural. Throughout the movement the theme is repeated in its original form and transposed in various iterations. In the second movement it occurs in various forms in a wild dance with Jewish intonation. In the third movement, marked Allegretto, the DSCH morphs into an ironic waltz (or a parody of a waltz). This signature appears only toward the end of the fourth movement, in which, instead of his movie score, Shostakovich depicts the sounds of real war as he imagined it — aircraft and guns all too realistically, siren-like violins and strident cello chords. He also includes references to a Russian funeral anthem and, as if in mourning, themes from his other works, including an aria from Lady Macbeth. Finally, in the fifth movement, the DSCH theme predominates again, this time fading to silence at the end.

Quartet No. 15 in E-flat minor, Op. 144

Although it was not the last chamber music Shostakovich composed, it was his last quartet, premiered less than a year before his death. There is no dedication on the score, leading to speculation that it may have been intended for his own requiem. For the performance in Lincoln Hall, the Jerusalem lowered the stage lights and the violist moved slightly closer to the other members of the Quartet. As a result of the lighting, spooky shadows played on the screen behind them.

Premonitions of death saturate this quartet. Despite the lack of drama within the music itself, there is no opportunity for boredom or even for drifting because of the constant reminder of death’s proximity.

The quartet is made up of six movements, played without pause, all marked Adagio, and scored sparsely with frequent solos and combinations of two or three instruments. With a few exceptions, they are all played very softly. At the end of the “Elegy,” the long first movement, the mood is jarred by what seems like shrieks – long chromatic crescendos ending in a fierce snap and followed by harsh pizzicatos. This is repeated by each instrument at intervals during the next movement, the “Serenade.” The “Intermezzo” starts off violently then quickly trails off into a melancholic “Nocturne,” and from there into the “Funeral March,” where each instrument’s voice comes forward in solo. The final movement, “Epilogue,” is characterized by much whirring and trembling in ascending and descending scales, like a cloud of winged creatures, finally giving up and settling down, ending in what has to be death.

After the last note had disappeared, the Jerusalem held the silence like a tableau for what seemed like a full minute. When they finally stood up, the audience exploded in applause, cheering and calling them back repeatedly.

Sources…

…used to augment my notes and memory:

• Notes by Paul Griffiths, 2012, Commissioned by the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, supplied in Friends of Chamber Music’s Shostakovich program, March 2025. 
• Notes by Alan George, “Dmitri Shostakovich, The String Quartets,” accompanying 5-CD set featuring the Emerson String Quartet, Deutsche Gramophone, 2000. 
• Wendy Lesser, “Music for Silenced Voices: Shostakovich and his Fifteen Quartets,” Yale University Press, 2011.