Abstract

Reviewed by: Simo Mikkonen, University of Jyväskylä, Finland
The study of musical life in the Soviet Union, especially in the period preceding Stalin’s death, has been the subject of numerous different studies, published both before and after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Post-1991 expanded and revitalized the field with a wealth of archival material. As a result, our understanding of the mechanisms of music making in the Soviet Union have notably improved. The totalitarian paradigm, however, seems to have been more persistent in the study of Soviet music than in the field of general history, creating a top-down approach that has made composers and musicians look either like zealous followers of strict ideological line, or victims of this system that allegedly left artists with few options.
The picture painted by Pauline Fairclough in her new and thorough study of the Soviet musical world from revolution to the final Stalin years after World War II is different. The main focus of the book is on the dynamics of the 1920s and 1930s, years when far-reaching decisions were made and the foundations of Soviet music policy were cast. Instead of taking a top-down approach, Fairclough has chosen a fresh and fruitful angle by looking through the eyes of conductors, educators, musicologists and musicians. Soviet composers, the group given most attention in studies of Soviet music, play only a minor role. The result is a fascinating and revealing study of how western classical music was introduced to mass audiences in the Soviet Union. Classical music by foreign and bourgeois authors like Mozart, Bach and Beethoven – people who seemed completely at odds with the ideology of the young Soviet state – became beloved by Soviet concert-going audiences. As Fairclough points out, the process was not only of accepting pre-revolutionary practices of the Russian Empire, but one of dynamic action: for example, the music of Bach was poorly known in pre-revolutionary Russia, but became wildly popular through the tireless work of Soviet musicians. Wagner, another composer who might seem completely at odds with Soviet ideology, received notable attention until 1941. Curiously, as pointed out by Fairclough, Wagner’s only revolutionary opera, Rienzi, was also the only one that remained unpopular in the Soviet Union.
Among Fairclough’s several merits in this research is how she manages to describe Soviet conductors, musicians and music professionals as actors who were not powerless, but rather managed to affect the general discourse of music, and keep classical music on a comparatively steady course, despite sometimes abrupt changes in Soviet politics. While Soviet composers – and some other notable music professionals – were at times subjected to political pressuring, Fairclough’s materials testify to the fact that that repertoires remained surprisingly comprehensive, incorporating old and new music, from Russia and elsewhere in Europe. Little canonization seems to have taken place. Discussions about Russian and European composers were relatively open and often heated, without any single approach becoming clearly dominant.
The role of certain individuals that Fairclough follows in detail – professionals rather than apparatchiks – is intriguingly and rewardingly woven into this study. Instead of concentrating on a few well-placed individuals, Fairclough successfully introduces names that are mostly unknown to those unfamiliar with details of Soviet musical life in the interwar years. The point, in the opinion of this reader, is that these people were the real protagonists when it came to the shaping of Soviet musical identity. While certain incidents, like Pravda’s letter on Dmitri Shostakovich’s opera ‘Lady Macbeth’ in 1936 would seem to suggest that ideological control of Soviet musical life was strict, Fairclough’s study proposes that we should look elsewhere. For sure, Fairclough does not deny the existence of ideological control, but her research does indicate that music as a professional field was able to resist ideological and political pressure more successfully than many other fields of art and scholarship. Perhaps the only weakness in the book is in the few references to recent scholarship on Soviet cultural and social history in the 1920s and 1930s – both in English and in Russian – that might have provided points of reference to the general development of Soviet society and given Fairclough’s findings even more relevance.
The book itself is a real pleasure to read. It is very well written and is filled with compelling details. One of Fairclough’s major achievements is that she manages to cover a very long period of time, from 1917 until 1953, and both provides the reader with details and keeps them aware of their wider significance, that is, about Soviet musical identity and its formation. This study is highly relevant not only for those interested in Soviet music – for whom this is a must-read – but also for anyone interested in the social and cultural history of the Soviet Union.
