1978 LP text:
Yevgeni Svetlanov is one of the most many-sided musicians of our time and to speak of him only as of a conductor would not give you a true idea of his personality. He is a distinguished and original artist, who has won world recognition.
Nature has bestowed her gifts upon him very generously. Besides being an outstanding conductor, he is a talented composer, a subtle pianist and a fervent music publicist. To my thinking it is this combination of different musical “ingredients” that has, in large part, determined the original quality of his conducting.
The sources of his rare inborn musicality, probably, go back to the family tradition and his excellent musical training. His parents were singers of the Bolshoi Theatre and such musical dynasties frequently clear the way for the comprehension of high art, a fact that is borne out by the entire history of music. It should be mentioned, however, that Yevgeni Svetlanov had excellent schooling: he studied composition with such an outstanding master as Yuri Shaporin and conducting with Alexander Gauk, the founder of the Soviet school of conducting. Yet even the best teachers cannot make a man a conductor, I am convinced that one must be born with the gift. With me a conductor is, first of all, a man, who is capable of finding the plastic equivalent of the musical pattern, the motion of the music and the architectonics of the score. And I do not have in mind the superficial synchronism of the music and the plasticity, but their special correlations, which are sometimes contrapuntal. As a listener, who perceives the music in a concert hall, I think it is one of the most important merits of the conductor. If such a plastic equivalent exists then one begins to look intently at the conductor, as one hypnotized by the musical action that seems to unfold before one's eyes. If the plastic motions are natural and organic one perceives the music more clearly: the entire work very convincingly lines up in our consciousness, both in the audial and visual rows. It is possible that my perception of the toil of a conductor is somewhat subjective, but to my thinking it is precisely in such cases that conductors most fully blend with the music and thus communicate it to us most convincingly. It is precisely in this way that I perceive the art of Svetlanov, the conductor.
And though Svetlanov's gestures are outwardly sparse, they are full of organic harmony. His gestures very precisely reflect the attitude of the performer to the music and embody his character, intellect and temperament, helping us to understand the artist's individuality. And if the movement of his hands could be represented schematically it would, probably, be enough for us to recognize Svetlanov's style.
One can speak at length about his impeccable ear for music, musical culture, wonderful intuition and other merits of the conductor, which have been acclaimed by critics. But I would like to begin with one of the rarest merits, which only few contemporary musicians possess. I have in mind the sense. of musical tempo. Stravinsky once pointed out that the main problem in playing his music was the tempo, and this is true not only of his works. And, really, nothing so ruins the essence of a work, its dramaturgy, as inaccuracies in the tempo. Nevertheless, by this I do not at all want to say that the tempo must be sternly defined once and for all or be metronomically checked with the greatest precision. The sense of the right tempo surely changes and changes quickly, it sometimes even differs from one performance to another. It changes as rapidly as our notion of time, of its march, changes every day and hour. Yet at every given moment there always exists only one correct tempo. It is this tempo that Svetlanov senses with admirable subtlety, always precisely determining the most optimal “regime” to use a technical term, for the functioning of the musical organism, for the free and natural respiration of the music. It should be mentioned here that Svetlanov uses the rubato more frequently and boldly than the majority of conductors, but this does not infringe upon the logical flow of the music, on the contrary, it lends the performance yet greater expressiveness. The playing of the orchestra he conducts resembles the flowing of a river, a flowing which is set by nature itself. But then his talent to sense that which cannot be measured by any metronome or any other sensitive or miraculous instrument is also an innate quality.
Besides this wonderful quality, I want to single out three other characteristics of Svetlanov's manner of conducting: precise and unerring sense of culmination in terms of dynamics and tempo, the enviable ability to begin the musical narrative great meaning and close it no less impressively. I remember well how mysteriously and warily he begins Scriabin's “Prometheus” and how aptly within the context of the integrated whole the last chord sounds. In general, his final “tonics” in many works are brought into proper correlation with the general structure and length of the entire tone composition. This is also, of course, the result of Svetlanov's sensitive responsiveness.
There is yet another important trait, which I consider to be very important his serious approach to the music he performs.
When Svetlanov tackles a work one can be sure, that he will reveal the score in depth and use all the resources it contains. The sense of responsibility of a musician, who holds the fate of a work in his hands, so to say, never leaves Svetlanov.
At the same time when one becomes familiar with his personality one is involuntarily reminded of Bruno Walter's statement. He said: “True craftsmanship in conducting means the absence of tenseness”. And though Svetlanov is an extremely serious conductor, one never feels, that he is tense when he is on the conductor's stand. Everything looks natural and plastic, the conductor's figure charms one by its handsomeness and artistic quality, his gestures are smooth yet meaningful. When he appears on the stage the audience immediately becomes silent in expectation of a great artistic event. When interpretating music Svetlanov knows how to reach the essence of the work and, apparently, this, too, is the result of his training and experience: he knows his trade, he knows how it is done, and, therefore, knows how to reveal the main idea of a score, by taking a “short cut”. Frequently, in the course of playing a work, he seems “to light up” the music from inside, and I frequently find sheer delight in the way he reveals unexpected counterpoints, supporting voices and rivets his own attention and that of the audience to well-nigh imperceptible, but very important details of the score, which he emphasizes tactfully and in harmony with the integral whole. And the work is then lighted up by new colors and shadings.
I had, for example, occasion to hear him lead the performance of “Swan Lake” by Tchaikovsky, the music of which seems to be familiar to all from the first to the last note. Yet he made this familiar score sound freshly, finding in it such facets, which frequently remain latent in a “conventional” performance. In short, this musician holds the keys from all doors behind which the secrets and mysteries of Great Music are kept.
Svetlanov's will of conductor and musician becomes evident when we see him on the conductor's stand. He dictates his concepts to the orchestra very clearly and the audience sees how the orchestra hypnotically follows his instructions, the course of his thoughts and feelings, the molding of the form. Here yet another winning quality of the conductor comes into play: the lucidity with which he reads the music, and this cannot but evoke trust in the artist, in the members of the orchestra in the audience. His interpretation of even the most complex works is ultimately lucid and concordant.
And, finally, his performance is always full-blooded. He does not spare himself and much has been written about his fervent nature and stirring temperament. This is indeed so, yet Svetlanov's temperament is not of the kind which overwhelms the flow of the music, it is always under his control. His conducting is remarkable for his clear musical “articulation” and lack of any fuss whatsoever in the interpretation of a work. He is simple and stately in his relationship with music and he serves it with dignity, modesty and esteem. And so, we observe in him a vivid temperament on the one hand and obvious self-control on the other. His conducting can best be described as being a wonderful fusion of spontaneous force, which, I would say, allows him to attain the uncompromising sounding of the orchestra, and control, dictated by the intellect of the musician.
Svetlanov's musical achievements in the last decade, the golden period of his talent, are closely associated with the USSR Academic Symphony Orchestra, which he directs. It is significant that this orchestra has reached great artistic summits in cooperation with Svetlanov and nobody else, and today. the Orchestra is capable of coping with the most difficult tasks. I have frequently had occasion to witness Svetlanov's musical revelations, which have become events in our musical life. Thus, I shall never forget how he led the performance of the “Poem of Ecstasy” at a concert marking Scriabin's 100th birthday. It was a striking and perfect interpretation, filled with sunlight and trenzy yet stern and wise at the same time. I also recall the Third Symphony and the “Symphonic Dances” by Rachmaninov, one of Svetlanov's favorite composers. Svetlanov's performance was lucid, inspired and inspiring. In general, one is wont to translate the impression that Svetlanov's interpretation produces into the language of visual associations: it seems that the entire orchestra glitters, the trumpets are polished in a special way, they sound with ultimate force, without a single hoarse note, everything takes on a rainbow-like quality and dazzling sunlight seems to come from the stage, Yevgeni Svetlanov has given many unforgettable moments to all of us.
I cannot agree with critics, who to this day support the idea, expressed by someone in the early stage of his career, that Svetlanov is wholly a specialist in Russian music. Of course he is a superb interpretator of scores by Tchaikovsky, Glinka, Borodin, Mussorgsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, Rachmaninoff and Scriabin, he plays the majority of their orchestral works and has made many records. He has actually revived many forgotten works of Russian masters. But it would be a mistake to think that Svetlanov is an artist with a definite, relatively narrow repertory. Today Svetlanov is no less successful when he performs foreign music of different periods and styles ranging from the symphonies of Beethoven and Mahler to the works of Schoenberg and Berg. It is most important that he performs this music in an original way and does not stick to the tone “cliches” that he had heard at one time or another. He has his own approach to every score and one must, therefore, not be surprised to find some rather uncustomary things. in his readings for it frequently happens that we associate a certain work with an already established scheme, which we identify with the original and, at times, without any justification whatsoever. Svetlanov is not only a symphony conductor, but an opera conductor, too. He worked at the Bolshoi Theatre and led the performance of many productions with marked success. In this he was guided by his profound understanding of vocal technique and sense of balance of the sounding of the orchestra, the chorus and soloists. This is a delicate business in general and many conductors take the line of the least resistance: they merely make the orchestra play quietly when the singer sings though this often as not leads to the distortion of the author's concept and is a violation of the score. Tone correlation is an open book with Svetlanov.
Speaking of Svetlanov's many-sided talent. one cannot pass by his skill of ensemblist. (The word “accompanist” does not seem apt here). Our leading instrumentalists and singers could tell you about this side of his activity better than I, but I, too, have had. occasion to appear with Svetlanov and I must say that in him I invariably found at sensitively responsive partner and a like-minded musician. In other words, one should not follow in the tracks of those critics, who like to put things in definite pigeon-holes: to one conductor they ascribe superb accompaniment, to the second merits in a definite form, to the third fine interpretation of Beethoven and so on. Yevgeni Svetlanov is an outstanding artist and this makes itself known in all things without exception: in his attitude to the music, strict selection of programmes, responsible approach to each work regardless of its stylistic features, his efficiency... There is genuine honesty of the musician in everything he does. At the same time, he has a high sense of duty towards his contemporaries.
Svetlanov belongs among those conductors, who incessantly and with sincere appreciation play Soviet music and not because it is an obligation with them, but because they have the inner urge to play it. Svetlanov has done much in the line of reviving many works by Myaskovsky on the concert platform and this is not at all surprising because he finds Myaskovsky congenial to his own nature: the composer is rapt, serious and exacting towards himself. The bill-boards of the orchestra conducted by Svetlanov include S. Prokofiev, Y. Shaporin, V. Shebalin, D. Shostakovich, A. Khachaturyan, T. Khrennikov, G. Sviridov and A. Eshpai. He performs Soviet music with marked success not only in our country, but during his triumphant foreign tours round the world. Many works of Soviet authors have become known to listeners everywhere through the records that he has made.
It is difficult to overestimate the role that Svetlanov has played in the destiny of thousands of listeners, who, guided by him, have found the road to the wonderful realm of music. In Victor Shklovsky's essay on Tolstoy we find the following statement: “Art is an instruction for the use of the senses” and for all those, who listen to the orchestra conducted by Yevgeni Svetlanov, the art of this exacting master calls to life the “immortal” instructions of the great musicians of the past and present, evoking in them elevated feelings.
Rodion Shchedrin
