The premiere of his opera Lady Macbeth de Mtsensk in 1934 in Leningrad, with the presence of Stalin among the public, entailed a decisive before and after in the composer’s life Dimitri Shostakóvich (1906-1975). The next day, the newspaper Pravda published a harsh criticism entitled Chaos instead of musicattributed to Stalin himself, in which Shostakovich and his family were threatened with harsh reprisals if the musician refused to adopt the aesthetic values promulgated by Soviet socialism. From then on, even after Stalin’s death, the composer lived in fear, a tension that was difficult to manage between the desire for creative freedom and the ideological control against which he never spoke out. Now, the writer and conductor Xavier Guell (Barcelona, 1956), formed together with Franco Ferrara in Italy, Sergiu Celibidache in Germany and Leonard Bernstein in the United States and dedicated to literature since publishing in 2015 The music of memoryrecreates this story, very representative of the 20th century, in his novel Shostakóvich contra Stalin (Gutenberg Galaxy), third installment of his War Quartet which was recently presented in Malaga by the Centro Andaluz de las Letras.
-Is the possibility of interpreting and directing a musician’s scores the best way to turn him into a literary character?
-I always work with real characters and I always build them by stealing their soul and making it mine. I learned this from Leonard Bernstein, when I studied with him while he conducted the Boston Symphony Orchestra: when he played Mahler he said “I am Mahler”, if he conducted Shostakovich he said “I am Shostakovich”. And he warned us: “If you want to be my students, you have to understand that an orchestra conductor and a performer must always go beyond the notes and enter the world behind them.” When I conducted I always tried to follow their example and put myself in the shoes of each composer. Well, when I write, I use the same system. Literature must be very close to music, with its patterns, its silences, its rhythm, its tones, its pulses. Not in vain, writers like James Joyce, Marcel Proust, Hermann Broch and Robert Musil were also great musicians. You can’t understand the Ulises of Joyce without taking into account the proximity to the music.
-In the case of Shostakovich, you have chosen to recreate him in the first person. Why did you make this decision, given the delicate balance between its lights and shadows?
-I suppose that after having directed his works many times and having read practically everything that has been published about him, I understood that the best way to write this book was in the first person. Keep in mind that the internal time of the novel is concentrated in his last eight hours of life, in which he tries to finish his last work, the Sonata for viola and piano. In the book, Shostakovich dedicates that last breath to remembering his life and taking stock, especially everything that had to do with his relationship with Stalin.
-Is Shostakovich the clearest incarnation of the idea that nothing good can come of the interest of political power in music?
-Stalin was a good musician. And a cultured person, he was trained in theology and was an expert on Dostoevsky. Hitler was also a very good fan of music. But they both had very narrow tastes, of course. Where Hitler and Stalin also agree is in the conviction that art and creation contain a media and transformative power, which is why they decide to put everything under control. Stalin then played the role that the market plays today: he was in charge of telling composers what their music should be, on the one hand easy, popular, and on the other hand useful for disseminating the values of the party. The market today works exactly the same, making it clear to musicians what they have to do if they want their work to reach people. In some way we can say that it is Stalin who invented the market. Any intelligent dictator would do exactly the same thing.
“Musicians should pay more attention to music, which is capable of evoking and suggesting everything without saying anything”
-Does that mean that this lesson is impossible to learn?
-If you look specifically at Russia, to follow the thread, the truth is that the country has not enjoyed a minute of complete freedom in its entire history, between the tsars, the Soviets and now Putin, who is a more discreet Stalin, without absolute power, but with very similar intentions. For Russian society, which has never had the possibility of rebelling as it has not known freedom or democracy, this is evidence. Very few in Russia dare to speak out against Putin because everyone knows that reprisals, not only for those who do decide to take the step, but also for their family and everyone around them, just like Stalin, can be very serious.
-Even Putin’s opponents admit that the Russian character has a predilection for strong leaders. I don’t know what Shostakovich would say about that.
-Because they have not known anything else. The tsars were strong leaders, as were the general secretaries of the party. He thinks that Stalin is the true winner of the Second World War, he took the best part of the cake with twenty million dead behind him, and that is a very difficult lesson to forget.
-If wars and catastrophes work well as reasons for inspiration, is well-being an adversary for the arts?
-You have the answer to that in the 20th century: perhaps the most tragic period in history, the one that led humanity to experience a true hell, constitutes in turn a decisive milestone for cultural creation. Surely, the 20th century represents the third great moment in the history of art and culture with classical Greece and the Renaissance in Italy. In every area there was an explosion of extraordinary creativity. In comparison, the 21st century has been flat and dull in these almost 25 years. Things that are not important are valued with extreme intensity. The difference is abysmal. Having known that splendor is a key experience for anyone who has been able to live through the 20th century. Yes, it is true, as you point out, that when difficulties push you to the limit, human beings are capable of giving their best. Although not always, let it be noted.
-You have previously cited Joyce, Proust, Broch and Musil. As a writer, do you feel like a disciple of that school?
-Definitely. Literature, as with the rest of creation, is today flat, without relief, far from the virtues of music. I always defend that musicians should pay more attention to music, which is capable of evoking and suggesting everything without saying anything. Music leads us to unique experiences, it speaks to us not with words, but with intuitions. If you apply this to literature, the result is extraordinary.
-Orson Welles said that he had never wanted to be a writer because, when you put the period at the end, the keyboard never starts applauding. Do you miss the applause you hear from the stage when you write?
-Definitely. Writing is a very hard, very lonely profession. A book requires years of work in absolute solitude. A composer generally has musicians around him who allow him to gauge the quality of his creations. A conductor always works with his orchestra. Music is generally a much more collaborative occupation. Manuel Gutiérrez Aragón said that he started writing when he was no longer allowed to make films, and I could say the same about conducting. When I stopped directing, yes, I entered a more problematic, harsher world.
-But you will have to deal less with councilors, advisors and boards of directors.
-That’s true. Thank God.
