In 1915 Russia was already at war with Germany and politicians
were hoping against hope for a speedy end to the hostilities. It was easier
said than done, however, because it may be a piece of cake to let the genie
out of the bottle and a lot harder, if possible at all, to squeeze it back
in... Each nation, sucked into the global conflagration, was paying its
terrible price to that insatiable monster. The number of those killed and
maimed was rising fast unfolding a tragedy of global proportions that defied
any reasonable explanation...
In a bid to perpetualise the memory of the war victims, Russian
composer Alexander Kastalsky decided to write a requiem that would blend
together the historical and religious traditions of many nations.
"This is going to be a brotherly tribute to the memory of
the heroes who fell in the great liberation battle against the Teutonic
oppression" Kastalsky wrote about his new composition.
Alexander Kastalsky was thinking about a larger-than-life extravaganza
where clerics, a choir, an orchestra, an organ and army units would come
together in a grand show of unity and mourning. This is how the composer
wanted it all to look like...
Allied units have all gathered around the memorial service. One
can hear farewell tunes, Orthodox and Catholic alike, being alternatively
sung in Russian, English, Romanian, Greek, Portuguese and other languages...
The singing is occasionally interspersed with the sound of cannon fire
and trumpets, bugles and drums being played by military bands. The wives
and mothers of the fallen heroes are sobbing inconsolably to the strains
of Japanese and Hindu songs being heard coming from the Asian units. Just
as the "In Memory Everlasting" is announced, military bands strike
up, the big guns salute the dead and the music brightens up in an uplifting
tribute to the fallen heroes..." "Brethren, let us remember our
brothers, husbands and sons, all members of our great union, who have sacrificed
their lives in this sacred battle for the freedom and peace of the nations...
Let us pray and ask the Lord to give them eternal peace in Heaven..."
The Fraternal Tribute was the finest piece of music Alexander Kastalsky
ever wrote...
The year 1915 brought the sudden death of Alexander Skryabin.
The 43 year-old composer was killed in a matter of days by infection caused
by a furuncle on his upper lip. The tragedy ruined some of Skryabin's most
ambitious projects, primarily the great Mystery of colossal dimensions
which is still boggling the minds and, at the same time, scaring people
off with its sheer inconceivability and impossibility to realize...
Skryabin's untimely death left his family without any means of
subsistence and, as it often happens in life, the much-needed assistance
came from someone who was least expected to help out. It was conductor
and music publisher Sergei Kussevitsky who had long been looked upon by
members of Skryabin's inner circle as his number one enemy.
Skryabin's onetime classmate in the Conservatory, Sergei Rakhmaninoff,
also lent a helping hand organizing a series of piano concerts playing
his late friend's music... Parrying suggestions that Skryabin's music was
alien to him, Rakhmaninoff said:
"The duty of a living musician is to relate to the public
his own vision of his late friend's compositions. I'm doing exactly that
by going on the road and playing Skryabin's music to the people..."
The day when they were taking Skryabin's body to the cemetery was cold
and rainy. Conservatory Professor Sergei Taneyev was chilled to the marrow
as he followed the coffin of his favorite student. A trivial cold degenerated
into a pneumonia and, a few weeks later, Taneyev was gone...
The whole city shuddered painfully at the sad news of the sudden
death of a man who not only was a fine composer, an educated man and an
excellent teacher, but was legitimately called the "musical conscience
and acme" of Moscow...
An idolater of Taneyev, Sergei Rakhmaninoff contributed an obituary
which simultaneously appeared in several newspapers:
"To all of us who knew him and kept coming to him, he was
a supreme judge, so wise, fair, accessible and easygoing... An example
to follow in everything he did, he taught us how to live, how to think
and how to speak. I have always seen him as the supreme truth one can ever
find in life..." Sergei Rakhmaninoff made it just in time to show
Taneyev his "Vespers". In early April he dropped by his onetime
teacher's place to showcase his new work.
"I was deeply touched by Taneyev's response," Rakhmaninoff
reminisced, "he was such a no-nonsense critic, but this time round
he was really rapturous... It was the last praise I ever heard from him..."
Rakhmaninoff dedicated his "Vespers" which he completed in just
two weeks, to the victims of the war and handed it over to the Synodal
School choirmaster Nikolai Danilin.
"I played the "Vespers" for him and, when I was
finished, Danilin sat silent for a few minutes and I saw how excited he
was. "Wonderful music," he whispered and fell silent again, as
if remembering and playing in his head some parts of what he had just heard.
"Well, but where are you going to find such basses?", he queried.
"they are so hard to find, you know, just like asparagus at Christmas..."
He did manage to find those basses, though, which was not surprising at
all because I knew how peasants can sing, I had definitely heard such voices
and knew their potential! I remember how the audience was listening with
abated breath during the premiere how those basses were going down and
down and down..." The "Vespers" was played for the first
time in the giant, white-columned and light-filled hall of the Moscow Nobility
Assembly. It was a deafening success! After the revolution, however, the
"Vespers" and church music as a whole, was banned by the Bolsheviks.
The only exception was made for precentor Nikolai Matveyev whose choir
performed the "Vespers" once every year at a Moscow church in
celebration of Sergei Rakhmaninoff's birthday and the whole city was scrambling
to get in...
The war lumbered on and the disheartening news from the frontlines
and the trainloads of maimed soldiers streaming back into the battlefields
were having their toll on the people. They tried to abstract themselves
from the glum monotone of their everyday life, but the cheap songs they
heard coming from the eateries only added to the overall doom and gloom
atmosphere... All of a sudden, a young singer hit the Moscow music scene
and immediately became the talk of the whole city. His name was Alexander
Vertinsky who had come from Kiev where he was already being idolized both
as a singer songwriter and a poet... Vertinsky usually came out on stage
as a white-faced and red lipstick-mouthed buffoon dressed in Pierrot costume
of white pantaloons, a loose white jacket with big buttons and a pointed
cap. His elaborately made-up face was attenuated by eyebrows arched in
a tragic curve...
His songs, the "ariettes" as he called them, had a
flavor all their own and looked more like short stories each with its own
go... Everything Vertinsky performed on stage was bristling with subtle
and very refined humor and the melancholic sadness of his character was
adding very special aristocratic charm to his performances... Alexander
Vertinsky was incredibly popular before being sidelined by the 1917 revolution
which ushered in different songs and different images...
THE RUSSIAN MUSICAL HIGHLIGHTS OF THE 20TH
CENTURY is prepared for you by Olga Fyodorova.