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The Complex Relationship Between Music and Stalin’s Regime

Joseph Stalin’s affinity for music played a dual role for the composers and musicians of his time, offering both prestige and peril. Those whose compositions resonated with Stalin were treated like celebrities, enjoying luxurious accommodations, fine dining, and the privilege to travel abroad—albeit with the caveat of returning when summoned. Conversely, those who fell out of favor faced dire consequences, ranging from imprisonment to execution.

Stalin closely scrutinized classical music, personally reviewing each record that crossed his desk and assigning it a classification of “good,” “average,” or “rubbish.” A negative assessment could lead a composer to the gulag, or worse. During his 30-year reign, it is estimated that around 68 composers were exiled to Siberia, while many others vanished from the cultural landscape as records of their work and contributions were deliberately erased.

In his enlightening book, Dutch journalist Michel Krielaars embarks on a journey to discover the stories of musicians who navigated the treacherous waters of artistry under Stalin. Although many of these musicians are no longer alive, their descendants are eager to share their narratives, armed with weathered letters, faded newspaper articles, and scratchy recordings that resurrect the legacy of their creative forebears. Krielaars, who served as a newspaper correspondent in Moscow, brings a nuanced understanding of the region’s history and its recurring themes of repression and censorship, particularly in the context of today’s political climate.

Prokofiev: A Star Amidst the Shadows

Any discussion of music during Stalin’s era must start with Sergei Prokofiev. After the Russian Revolution, Prokofiev spent years abroad and was persuaded to return to the Soviet Union in 1936. Although he had not achieved the global renown he desired—an admiration that often favored Igor Stravinsky’s modernist approach—Stalin sought to showcase Prokofiev as a testament to the artistic freedom within the communist state. Upon his return, he was warmly welcomed with commissions, a lavish apartment, and even a flashy car.

Initially compliant, Prokofiev publicly expressed his intent to embrace a “new simplicity” in his compositions, distancing himself from the complex styles of his past. He even composed the sycophantic “Zdravitsa” (Hail to Stalin) in 1939 to commemorate the dictator’s birthday. However, this strategy ultimately failed to shield him from criticism, and in 1948, he was branded a “formalism” offender, leading to a deterioration of his status in Soviet music. He passed away on the same day as Stalin in 1953, overshadowed yet forever marked by the regime.

Shostakovich and the Uncertainty of Approval

Compounding the anxiety of artists was the unpredictable nature of Stalinist criticism and approval. Dmitri Shostakovich, another giant of Soviet music, faced condemnation for formalism in 1948. Yet, by the end of that same year, he was awarded the title of Folk Artist of the Russian Socialist Federal Soviet Republic and claimed three Stalin Prizes for his film scores. Such instances exemplify the precariousness that characterized the lives of musicians, where fleeting favor could rapidly turn to danger.

The Lesser-Known Stories

The narratives of lesser-known composers offer equally powerful insights. Vsevolod Zaderatsky, for instance, faded into obscurity after being branded a counter-revolutionary in 1926. His early involvement with the Tsarevich Alexei marked him for retaliation, leading to the destruction of his manuscripts. Despite facing imprisonment, he continued to create music, mentally composing works that he later penned on scraps of paper. His 24 Preludes and Fugues for Piano, composed during this time, remained unheard until long after his death, with only rare performances emerging in recent years.

Zaderatsky hailed from Ukraine, a region rich in cultural contributions. Alongside Prokofiev, other luminaries such as Sviatoslav Richter and Klavdiya Shulzhenko also called it home. Krielaars poignantly concludes his work by highlighting that Russian music is, once again, being manipulated for political ends, notably during the ongoing conflict with Ukraine. An incident in 2022, where Russian police disrupted a concert featuring Ukrainian composer Valentin Silvestrov, underscores the continued intersection of art and politics.

The exploration of these historical artists reveals the intricate balance of creativity and survival in a climate dominated by fear and censorship, reminding contemporary audiences of the profound impact of political power on cultural expression.

The Sound of Utopia: Musicians in the Time of Stalin by Michel Krielaars is available through various retailers.

Source
www.theguardian.com