Ashkenazy Returns

Rushed down to Kuala Lumpur after some work for the symphony. This week's programme was ravishingly Russian: Rimsky-Korsakov, Tchaikovsky and Shostakovich.

Ashkenazy is a huge name in the classical music world; pianist who plays everything with introspective poignancy bringing the same sensitivity and sensibility to the orchestral podium. The last time he was here, though, I went home disappointed. Not this time, not at all!

The Shostakovich was my reason for this pilgrimage. The eight symphony is genius for its aural depiction of war. It isn't very melodic in a typical sense, the melodies take a bit of time to unfold and reveal themselves but it does a darned good job of making one feel the looming anxiety, fear, tragedy, disgust and hopelessness of war. It wastes no time at all in doing this, it's first strokes plunge the listener right into its emotional premise (and keeps its audience captive for an hour); never any happiness. There's this part in the fourth movement, where the piccolo plays a solo that stops every muscle in my body. One could see the stark, cold, desolation war leaves in their mind's eye. If anything at all, I'd recommend a listen of the third movement; he perfectly captures the violent, horrific advance of war machines.

Listening to this, shakes me to the core. I can't imagine living this hell! My heart truly goes out to everyone stuck in the middle of the ISIS tragedy.