REFLECTIONS ON A CONCERT

REFLECTIONS ON A CONCERT

Shostakovich's Fourth Symphony---

A Kirov* performance of raw power;

Coarse-voiced Russian woodwind, earthy, gruff,

Yet inordinately sweet, charged with all

The lyric forces of a land where roll

Dneiper, Don and Volga, enough

To draw my soul out and leave me weak

For very love of a people whose

Culture satisfies me to the core;

Whose language is a song, poetry its prose.

The strings were bittersweet, a biting tang

In the timbre, and the growling brass

Unrefined yet sensitive, no notes wrong,

Rounded in expression. And the pure grace

Of the harp---not tinkly merely, but strong

In manner, stringent in discipline, with

Elemental sonority.

The harp

Itself had a frame of deep emerald,

All gold-inlaid, with glistered strings fine-plucked

By comely fingers, supple and jewel-ringed,

Distilling trembling notes to flit amid

The other instruments; an elfin speech,

Ethereal language with power to reach

Into the soul, imparting virtue---held

In memory ever afterward, each

Rippling note enchanting me as though dreamed.

* The Kirov Orchestra of St. Petersburg, Russia.

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~ Stanley ~

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