Memory A Surprise Visit

Just a phone call announces the arrival of an important visitor accompanied by our very own secret service! He has not a single minder in sight. Why is he here? I entertain the notion that he has come to meet our very own private coven of Leninists whom I prefer to call Bolsheviks.

I am left in the dark. The secret service people just tell me, “Whatever you do, don’t ask him about Rostropovich” Then they disappear pointing down the stairs.

Walking up the stairs – perhaps he doesn’t trust elevators – comes the great man. He stares into space but greets me with a gentle smile and says nothing.

I don’t feel like asking him why he is here. He’s a very senior icon in the Russian establishment – lucky to survive the purges and criticism of the Stalin years.

I’d heard a number of really bad performances of the Manfred symphony during the past year so I managed to frame a question without mentioning the current political situation.

“Do you think only a Russian can conduct the Manfred?” In fact I mention a particular Russian who was particularly partial to the music of Shostakovitch.

Slowly turning to me and showing a more serious face, he answers in a very assertive fashion.

“Yes!”

Rather obviously I now sympathetically say to him, “I’m very sorry to hear about Rostropovich”.

Contrary to my warning from the very secret service people, he contemplates my question and eventually shrugs his shoulders and says, “And I sent extra coal to his dacha”.

We reach my study and I sit him down on the chair next to my bike. He looks a little weary after all those stairs.

“Our staff and student composers would like to play you some of their compositions”.

He must have known the extent of the ordeal he was about to undergo but still he maintains a philosophical approach saying, “That will be good”.

Among our coterie of staff and student composers, only two – one staff member and one graduate student – composes notes that are related to any more than themselves. (Interestingly this particular graduate student obtained more commissions than the rest of the staff put together).

During the session, some of the students mentioned one composer who seemed to be writing fairly progressive music. The great man simply said, “Oh, he is restricted to the limits of his home town so you will not be hearing much from him in the future”.

It isn’t the substance of this statement which shocks the group. It’s the way it’s spoken. We have the impression that is what naturally happens when anybody tries to compose anything new. We don’t even discover exactly who has exacted this edict. The great man for a time had himself been banished to the regions for a similar approach to music.

At the end of the session, one of the more provocative students asked him, “Could our music be performed in Moscow?”

“Yes. It could be performed but I don’t think they would like it”