Age

The illusion with Berlioz, Wagner, Scriabin: the attempt to purify musical ‘matter’, to reach the nudity of music. With Shostakovich (the best Shostakovich …)? Ecstasis is not there (except in the worst pieces, and there are many of those …) This is music for those who are tethered to themselves, bound to an unavoidable burden. For those for whom the impossible is possible – ecstasy as superabundance, as sheer excess – but only for an instant. An instant: for we are tethered to ourselves, brought back to ourselves. The thresholds can no longer be remade. You are returned to yourself. It is the return that is unbearable. But you become used to the unbearable. And prefer the sardonic music which laughs at lyricism. You recognise yourself in a music that has grown old, and laughs at youth.

Youth: lyricism, romance, transport. Age: you come back to the same. You know how the world works and how it smashes inspiration. Occasionally, Shostakovich permits himself a lyrical passage, a section of compelling rhythm, excitement. Then – he crushes it. To say: it is impossible, do not lose yourself. No ecstasy. Why? Because of the world, the way the world is. Think of his horror at the anti-Semitic excesses of Stalin. What kind of art is possible after that? In the midst of that? The 13th Symphony. And his last works, the 15th Symphony and the 15th String Quartet? Truly the work of one who lived alongside the worst.