This is possibly the worst time to celebrate things Russian, so the Singapore Symphony Orchestra discreetly amended the title of its latest concert from “Resonating Russia” to the generic and less incriminating “Andrew Litton and Chloë Hanslip”. This could have been confusing since the concert the week before had the title “Serenades with Andrew Litton and Chloë Hanslip”.
Music should never be a pawn of politics or cancel culture but human factors have made this inevitable. It is no exaggeration to postulate that both Dmitri Shostakovich and Pyotr Tchaikovsky, if they were alive today, would have been staunch opponents of the present Russian regime. Shostakovich had campaigned covertly against Soviet communism and Stalinism in his specially coded music, while Tchaikovsky would scarcely be sympathetic to any anti-LGBT agenda.
Shostakovich’s only Violin Sonata was composed in 1968 as a 60th birthday gift for David Oistrakh. This orchestral version for strings and percussion from 2005 by Michail Zinman and Andrei Pushkarev almost constitutes a third violin concerto. Dark as the first two (also written for Oistrakh) were, this one is positively painted in pitch black.
Hanslip gave a searing performance, as if carved from blocks of solid granite. Her voluminous and incisive violin tone also weaved in and out of opaque string textures, and the work soon resonated like those Shostakovich chamber symphonies fashioned from his string quartets by Rudolf Barshai rather than as an actual violin concerto. The brooding that opened the first movement gave way to a stiff poker-faced dance, but the oppressive mood was just as unyielding all the way till its close.
The violent central Allegretto movement was thought to have been Shostakovich’s response to the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia and brutal suppression of Prague Spring. Some things never change whether it's 1968 or 2022, and the players responded with the outright vehemence the music deserved. Doing the honours on percussion was principal Jonathan Fox, who had his hands full in this explosive movement. The finale’s Passacaglia must rank as one of Shostakovich’s most morbid movements. Hanslip’s trenchant pizzicatos paved the way for a procession of mourning. There were moments of lyricism and radiance in her playing, also mirrored in the string accompaniment, but these would wind down in a terminal decrescendo. This could only mean one thing: the slow but inexorable road to death.