ØÎÑÒÀÊÎÂÈ× È ØÍÈÒÊÅØÎÑÒÀÊÎÂÈ× È ØÍÈÒÊÅ: ÐÓÑÑÊÀß ÌÓÇÛÊÀ ÈÍÀÖÈÎÍÀËÜÍÀß ÈÄÅÍÒÈ×ÍÎÑÒÜ1ÍÎÐÈÎ ÓÌÅÖÓÑíà÷àëà ÿ õî÷ó ñêàçàòü òî, â ÷åì äàâíî ñîìíåâàþñü. Èíîãäà ãîâîðèëè èãîâîðÿò: «Ìíå íðàâèòñÿ ðóññêàÿ ìóçûêà» èëè «Ìíå íå íðàâèòñÿ», «ß ëþáëþðóññêóþ ìóçûêó» èëè «ß íå ëþáëþ». Ðàçóìååòñÿ, â ðóññêîé ìóçûêå î÷åíü
ðàçíûå ñî÷èíåíèÿ, ðàçëè÷íûå êîìïîçèòîðû è ìóçûêàíòû, ïîýòîìó ÿ ñîìíåâàþñü, ìîæíî ëè èõ ñìåøèâàòü. ×òî èìåííî ïðèñóùå ðóññêîé ìóçûêå â öåëîì?
Âñÿêîå ëè ðóññêîå ìóçûêàëüíîå ïðîèçâåäåíèå âñåãäà èìååò, èëè äîëæíî èìåòü,íåêîå «ðóññêîå íà÷àëî»? ß äóìàþ, ÷òî ýòîò âîïðîñ çàñëóæèâàåò ñåðüåçíîãîèçó÷åíèÿ.2
Â ïîñëåäíèå ãîäû íåêîòîðûå èññëåäîâàòåëè ðóññêîé ìóçûêè è ðóññêîéêóëüòóðû ïåðåñìàòðèâàþò èñòîðèþ ðóññêîé ìóçûêè è îáùåïðèíÿòîå ìíåíèåî ðóññêîé ìóçûêå. Ãëàâíûå èññëåäîâàòåëè ýòîé òåìû – Ðè÷àðä Òàðàñêèí(Richard Taruskin) è Êåðèë Ýìåðñîí (Caryl Emerson). Îíè ïðåäïîëàãàþò,÷òî èñòîðèÿ ðóññêîé ìóçûêè åñòü ñâîåãî ðîäà ìèô, è ÷òî ðóññêàÿ ìóçûêàâûðàæàåò ðóññêóþ íàöèîíàëüíóþ èäåíòè÷íîñòü.
Çäåñü, îáðàùàÿ âíèìàíèå íà ñâÿçü Øîñòàêîâè÷à è Øíèòêå, ÿ õî÷ó ïîñòàâèòü íåñêîëüêî âîïðîñîâ, äëÿ òîãî ÷òîáû íàéòè êëþ÷ ê ïåðåñìîòðó èñòîðèè ðóññêîé ìóçûêè. Â îñíîâíîì ýòà ïðîáëåìàòèêà èìååò îòíîøåíèå êêðèòèêå è âîñïðèÿòèþ, ò.å. çàìûñåë èëè íàìåðåíèå êîìïîçèòîðà èìååò òîëüêî âòîðè÷íîå çíà÷åíèå.

1. ÍÎÂÀß ÒÅÍÄÅÍÖÈß Â ÈÑÑËÅÄÎÂÀÍÈÈ ÐÓÑÑÊÎÉ ÌÓÇÛÊÈ:ÎÁÐÀÇ ÌÓÑÎÐÃÑÊÎÃÎÎáùèé èíòåðåñ Òàðàñêèíà è Ýìåðñîí ïðåäñòàâëÿåò êîìïîçèòîð Ì.Ï.
Ìóñîðãñêèé (1839-1881). Îíè ïûòàþòñÿ èñïðàâèòü ìèôè÷åñêèé îáðàçÌóñîðãñêîãî.
Ðè÷àðä Òàðàñêèí, âåäóùèé ìóçûêîâåä â èññëåäîâàíèå ðóññêîé ìóçûêè èàâòîð êíèã î Ì.Ï. Ìóñîðãñêîì, è î Ñòðàâèíñêîì è ò.ï. Òàðàñêèí íà÷èíàåò1 Âî âðåìÿ ðàáîòû íàä îêîí÷àòåëüíîé âåðñèåé äîêëàäà ÿ ïîëó÷èë öåííûé ñîâåòîò Ìàíàøèðà ßêóáîâà, Ïðåçèäåíòà Îáùåñòâà Øîñòàêîâè÷à. ß õî÷ó âûðàçèòüåìó ãëóáîêóþ áëàãîäàðíîñòü, õîòÿ, ê ñîæàëåíèþ, ÿ ïî÷òè íå ñìîã âîñïîëüçîâàòüñÿ åãî ñîâåòîì). Ñåðäå÷íóþ áëàãîäàðíîñòü ÿ èñïûòûâàþ ê ïðîôåññîðóÌîòèäçóêè è ê ïðîôåññîðó Ñóäçóêè. Áëàãîäàðÿ èõ ëþáåçíîñòè è òåðïåíèþ ÿñìîã ó÷àñòâîâàòü â ýòîì ñèìïîçèóìå.
2 Êîíå÷íî, â ÿïîíñêîé ìóçûêå åñòü íå÷òî ÿïîíñêîå íà÷àëî, ÿïîíñêèå ýëåìåíòû.
Íî ÿ õî÷ó ñêàçàòü íå îá ýòîì ÿâëåíèè.

109ÍÎÐÈÎ ÓÌÅÖÓêíèãó î Ìóñîðãñêîì ñ òîãî, ÷òî êðèòèêóåò âîñïîìèíàíèÿ Â. Ñòàñîâà è åãîîöåíêó Ìóñîðãñêîãî.3 Â. Ñòàñîâ, õóäîæåñòâåííûé êðèòèê, áûë èäåéíûì ðóêîâîäèòåëåì «Ìîãó÷åé êó÷êè» (òàê íàçûâàåìîé «Russian Five»), è åãî îöåíêèè ìåìóàðû áûëè âûñîêî àâòîðèòåòíû äî ñîâåòñêîãî ïåðèîäà. Òàðàñêèí ïèøåò, ÷òî «â Ñîâåòñêîì Ñîþçå åãî îïèñàíèå âîñïðèíèìàëîñü áóêâàëüíî è âíåñîìíåíèé, è, â ñóùíîñòè, ñòàíîâèëîñü êàíîíîì».4 ß õî÷ó íàçâàòü ýòî ÿâëåíèå«ìèôîì Ñòàñîâà».
Äî ñèõ ïîð «ìèô Ñòàñîâà» æèâåò, è íå òîëüêî â Ðîññèè. Àíãëèéñêèåêðèòèêè è ìóçûêîâåäû òîæå ñïîñîáñòâóþò ñîõðàíåíèþ ýòîãî ìèôà. Òàðàñêèí ïèøåò:In the West they have hardly been any the less monumentalized. Theearliest writers on Musorgsky in English, including Calvocoressi were Stasov’sconfessed disciples. Rosa Newmarch made this quite explicit in her groundbreaking volume The Russian Opera, which contains an account of her
pilgrimages to the kuchkist patriarch (“the godfather of Russian music”), andwhat she learned at his feet. Gerald Abraham, long the most influential of all
writers on Musorgsky in English, while highly critical of Newmarch, was thedisciple of Calvocoressi, hence indirectly Stasov’s all the same, and neverdeviated from Stasovian orthodoxy either with respect to the overall shape ofMusorgsky’s career or when it came to evaluating specific works.5Òàðàñêèí äàæå ïèøåò, ÷òî «â äåéñòâèòåëüíîñòè Ìóñîðãñêèé â îïèñàíèèÑòàñîâà åñòü òâîðåíèå Ñòàñîâà».6Òàðàñêèí ññûëàåòñÿ íà ìåìóàðû Ãîëåíèùåâà-Êóòóçîâà,7 êîòîðûå áûëèíàïèñàíû ïîñëå ñìåðòè Ìóñîðãñêîãî, äëÿ îòðèöàíèÿ âåðñèè Ñòàñîâà. Â ñîâåòñêèé ïåðèîä ýòè ìåìóàðû âîîáùå èãíîðèðîâàëèñü, ïîòîìó ÷òî èõ àâòîð«ïûòàëñÿ äîêàçàòü, èñêàæàÿ èäåéíóþ ýâîëþöèþ êîìïîçèòîðà, ÷òî â êîíöå
æèçíè Ìóñîðãñêèé îñâîáîäèëñÿ îò ãíåòà «÷óæäûõ åãî ïðèðîäå òåîðèé è òåíäåíöèé» 60-õ ãã. è ñáëèçèëñÿ ñ íàïðàâëåíèåì «÷èñòîãî èñêóññòâà», ê êîòîðîìóïðèìêíóë ñàì ïîýò».8Ïî÷åìó ñòàñîâñêèé ìèô òàê äîëãî æèâåò? Ïî÷åìó îáðàç Ìóñîðãñêîãî,ñîçäàííûé Ñòàñîâûì, ñ÷èòàëè àáñîëþòíûì è íåïðèêîñíîâåííûì? Ìóñîðãñ3 Richard Taruskin, “Introduction: Who Speaks for Mussorgsky?,” Mussorgsky:Eight Essay and an Epilogue (Princeton University Press, 1993), pp.3-37.
4 “In the Soviet Union his writings were literally unquestionable, virtual canon
law until the Gorbachev-inspired glasnost’ of the late 1980s,” Ibid., p.7.
5 Ibid, pp.7-8.
6 “In fact, Stasov’s Musorgsky was Stasov’s creation-in more ways than one,”
Ibid., p.8.
7 Àðñåíèé Àðêàäüåâè÷ Ãîëåíèùåâ-Êóòóçîâ (1848-1913) – ðóññêèé ïîýò, äðóã Ìóñîðãñêîãî. Ìóñîðãñêèé âûñîêî öåíèë åãî ïîýòè÷åñêèé äàð è íà åãî ñòèõè íàïèñàë âîêàëüíûé öèêë «Áåç ñîëíöà» (1874) è «Ïåñíè è ïëÿñêè ñìåðòè» (18751877), áàëëàäó «Çàáûòûé» (1874), ðîìàíñ «Âèäåíèå» (1877) è ò.ä.
8 Ðóññêèå ïèñàòåëè 1800-1917: áèîãðàôè÷åñêèé ñëîâàðü, òîì 1 À-Ã. Ì.: Èçä.
«Ñîâåòñêàÿ Ýíöèêëîïåäèÿ», 1989. Ñ.603-604.

110ØÎÑÒÀÊÎÂÈ× È ØÍÈÒÊÅêèé â îïèñàíèè Ñòàñîâà áûë îïïîçèöèîíåðîì, ðåâîëþöèîííûì øåñòèäåñÿòíèêîì. Òàêîé îáðàç Ìóñîðãñêîãî áûëî óãîäíî ñäåëàòü ñâÿòûì.
Â ñâÿçè ñ ýòèì õîòåëîñü áû îáðàòèòü âíèìàíèå íà âçãëÿä Êåðèë Ýìåðñîí. Êåðèë Ýìåðñîí, ëèòåðàòóðîâåä è ñïåöèàëèñò ïî Áàõòèíó, íàïèñàëà áèîãðàôèþ Ì.Ï. Ìóñîðãñêîãî. Ýìåðñîí òàê íà÷èíàåò ýïèëîã ýòîé êíèãè:Under her old regimes both tsarist and Communist, Russia was a saint-building
culture. Heroes and martyrs, somewhat like laws in the more impersonalmodern state, have helped this immense country to cohere. Russia’s vast,
vulnerable plain also increased THC attractiveness of closed models of history,
in which the end (rather than some mythic origin or some malleable, pragmaticmiddle) bestowed meaning. In such a country, apocalypse often becomes a
popular theme; poets and artists easily become prophets. They are called
upon to shape national identity “aesthetically”, in a visionary and unitaryway, when repeatedly an irrational politics, poverty, massive distances, andthe constant threat of invasion produce intolerably high levels of insecurity.9

Òàê, â Ðîññèè ïîýòû è õóäîæíèêè íåñëè îòâåòñòâåííîñòü çà îïðåäåëåíèåíàöèîíàëüíîé èäåíòè÷íîñòè. Òàðàñêèí ñîáðàë ñâîè ñòàòüè è çàìåòêè íà ýòóòåìó è èçäàë èõ â îäíîé êíèãå. Ýòà êíèãà íàçûâàåòñÿ «Îïðåäåëÿòü Ðîññèþìóçûêîé».10 Ïî Òàðàñêèíó, ðóññêàÿ ìóçûêà èìååò îñîáûé ñèìâîëèçì.
Owing to the historical circumstances in which Russian artists have worked,
the symbology of Russian art is exceptionally rich and multivoiced. In an
autocratic or oligarchical society in which political, social, or spiritual matters
could not be openly aired, such matters went underground into historiography
and art. The art of no other country is so heavily fraught with subtexts.11

ß ñ÷èòàþ, ÷òî ýòà õàðàêòåðèñòèêà îòíîñèòñÿ ê ìóçûêå Øîñòàêîâè÷à èØíèòêå.

2. ÏÎÑËÅÄÎÂÀÒÅËÜÍÎÑÒÜ ØÎÑÒÀÊÎÂÈ×À È ØÍÈÒÊÅØîñòàêîâè÷ è Øíèòêå – âûäàþùèåñÿ ðóññêèå êîìïîçèòîðû ÕÕ âåêà.
Äìèòðèé Äìèòðèåâè÷ Øîñòàêîâè÷ (1906-1975) – êëàññèê ìèðîâîé ìóçûêàëüíîé êóëüòóðû ÕÕ âåêà. Àëüôðåä Ãàððèåâè÷ Øíèòêå (1934-1998), èçâåñòíûé ïîëèñòèëèñòè÷åñêîé òåõíèêîé, ïî ïðîèñõîæäåíèþ íàïîëîâèíó åâðåé –íàïîëîâèíó íåìåö.
Ìíîãèå ñîâåòñêèå êîìïîçèòîðû íàõîäèëèñü ïîä âëèÿíèåì Øîñòàêîâè÷à. Êîíå÷íî, îí îêàçàë áîëüøîå âëèÿíèå íà ñâîèõ ó÷åíèêîâ (íàïðèìåð,Áîðèñ Òèùåíêî, Ìîèñåé Âàéíáåðã è äð.). Êðîìå òîãî, Òèõîí Õðåííèêîâ(1913-), êîòîðûé âî âðåìÿ æäàíîâùèíû îáâèíèë Øîñòàêîâè÷à è äðóãèõ

9 Caryl Emerson, The life of Musorgsky (Cambridge University Press, 1999).
10 Richard Taruskin, Defining Russia Musically: Historical and Hermeneutical Essays(Princeton University Press, 1997).

111ÍÎÐÈÎ ÓÌÅÖÓâåäóùèõ êîìïîçèòîðîâ â ôîðìàëèçìå, íå áûë èñêëþ÷åíèå. Îá ýòîì àíãëèéñêèé êîìïîçèòîð è ìóçûêàëüíûé êðèòèê Ìàê-Á¸ðíè (McBurney) ïèøåò:Perhaps one of the most curious aspects of the sometimes questionable symbiotic
relationshi p between official composers and those on the left is to be foundin the way that both of them, from early 1960s to the 1990s, and despite
profound differences of musical language, continued to be haunted by thealmost overpowering influence of Shostakovich.12Øíèòêå áûë ñîâðåìåííèêîì ó÷åíèêîâ Øîñòàêîâè÷à (íàïðèìåð, Ýäèñîíà Äåíèñîâà), íî ñàì îí íå áûë åãî ó÷åíèêîì. Øîñòàêîâè÷ è Øíèòêå íåèìåëè äðóæåñêèõ îòíîøåíèé. Èðèíà Àíòîíîâíà (æåíà Øîñòàêîâè÷à), Áîðèñ Òèùåíêî è äð. ñòàðàëèñü ñáëèçèòü êîìïîçèòîðîâ, íî èõ óñèëèÿ íå äîñòèãëè óñïåõà. Îäíàêî ìíîãèå ëþäè, íå òîëüêî êðèòèêè è ìóçûêàíòû, ñ÷èòàþò Øíèòêå ïîñëåäîâàòåëåì Øîñòàêîâè÷à. Ñàì Øíèòêå ñ÷èòàë ñåáÿ åãîïîñëåäîâàòåëåì. Øíèòêå ñêàçàë Àëåêñàíäðó Èâàøêèíó13 òàê:Áåçóñëîâíî, ÿ – íåçàâèñèìî îò ñâîåãî æåëàíèÿ – ýòèì ïîñëåäîâàòåëåìÿâëÿþñü. Íî ÿ íå ÿâëÿþñü åãî ñîçíàòåëüíûì ïîñëåäîâàòåëåì (êàê, íàïðèìåð, Áîðèñ Òèùåíêî). (...) Íó, âîçüìåì ôåíîìåí åãî ôîðìû – ïåðâîå, ÷òîïðèõîäèò â ãîëîâó, Äîëãèå ðàçâèòèÿ, äëèííûå êóëüìèíàöèè – âñå ýòî ïðèñóòñòâóåò ó ìåíÿ íå ïîòîìó, ÷òî ÿ ïîäðàæàþ Øîñòàêîâè÷ó, íî ïîòîìó ÷òîÿ âûðîñ â ñðåäå, â àòìîñôåðå, ñâÿçàííîé ñ åãî ìóçûêîé. È äàæå íå âäàâàÿñü â îêîí÷àòåëüíóþ öåííîñòü ýòîé ñðåäû – ó ìåíÿ íå áûëî âûáîðà, êîãäàÿ ñêëàäûâàëñÿ!14Òî, ÷òî Øíèòêå ÿâëÿåòñÿ ïîñëåäîâàòåëåì Øîñòàêîâè÷à, íå çíà÷èò, ÷òîØíèòêå ïîäðàæàë åìó. Êàê ïèøåò Ìàê-Á¸ðíè, «âëèÿíèå Øîñòàêîâè÷à íàìóçûêó ëåâûõ èëè ïîäïîëüíûõ êîìïîçèòîðîâ – ýòî íå ñòèëåâîå èëè òåõíè÷åñêîå, à ñèìâîëè÷åñêîå íàìåðåíèå».15Â äåéñòâèòåëüíîñòè, îáùèõ ÷åðò ó Øîñòàêîâè÷à è Øíèòêå íåìàëî.
Íàïðèìåð, îáà êîìïîçèòîðà ëþáèëè áîëüøóþ ôîðìó. Øîñòàêîâè÷ íàïèñàë15 ñèìôîíèé, Øíèòêå – 8 ñèìôîíèé. Ïî ìíåíèþ Èâàøêèíà, èõ óñèëèÿäîêàçûâàþò íåâîçìîæíîñòü ñî÷èíèòü áîëüøóþ ñèìôîíèþ â òðàäèöèîííîìñìûñëå ñëîâà.
Áîëåå ïðÿìîå âëèÿíèå Øîñòàêîâè÷à íà Øíèòêå çàìåòíî â ñêðèïè÷íûõïðîèçâåäåíèÿõ. Ïåðâûé ñêðèïè÷íûé êîíöåðò Øîñòàêîâè÷à (ïåðâîå èñïîëíåíèå – 1955 ã.) ïðîèçâåë îãðîìíîå âïå÷àòëåíèå íà Øíèòêå. Ïîä åãî âîç11 Ibid., p.xviii.
12 Gerard McBurney, “Soviet Music after the Death of Stalin: The Legacy ofShostakovich,” Kelly, Catriona and Shepherd, David, ed., Russian Cultural Studies:
An Introduction (Oxford University Press, 1998), pp.125-126.
13 Àëåêñàíäð Âàñèëüåâè÷ Èâàøêèí: âèîëîí÷åëèñò è ìóçûêîâåä, àâòîð áèîãðàôèè Øíèòêå.
14 Èâàøêèí À.Â. Áåñåäû Àëüôðåäîì Øíèòêå. Ì.: ÐÈÊ «Êóëüòóðà», 1994. Ñ.81.
15 McBurney, op. cit., p.127.

112

ØÎÑÒÀÊÎÂÈ× È ØÍÈÒÊÅäåéñòâèåì Øíèòêå íàïèñàë ÷åòûðå ñêðèïè÷íûõ êîíöåðòà.
Èâàøêèíó:Øíèòêå ñêàçàëÂ ñâîå âðåìÿ ñèëüíåéøåå âïå÷àòëåíèå íà ìåíÿ ïðîèçâåë è Ïåðâûé ñêðèïè÷íûé êîíöåðò, è Äåñÿòàÿ ñèìôîíèÿ. Âñå ìîè ñêðèïè÷íûå êîíöåðòû,âêëþ÷àÿ ×åòâåðòûé, íàïèñàíû ïîä âîçäåéñòâèåì êîíöåðòà Øîñòàêîâè÷à.
Îñîáåííî Ïåðâûé, êîòîðûé ñîçäàí êàê ðàç â òå ãîäû.16

Àëåêñàíäð Èâàøêèí ïèøåò î õàðàêòåðíûõ ÷åðòàõ ñêðèïè÷íûõ êîíöåðòîâ Øíèòêå òàê:There is the same feeling of drama, the same sharp, even exaggerated, contrasts
between the movements, and the same freedom and space for the cadenza, amonologue of the soloist ‘hero’. For many years the concerto concept, inheritedfrom Shostakovich, was most important in Schnittke’s music. His numerous
concertos and concerti grossi represent symbolically the typical Schnittkean
idea of conflict between the individual (the soloist) and the collective (theorchestra), a conflict, which very often ends in disaster, with the death of thehero.17Â ìóçûêå Øîñòàêîâè÷à è Øíèòêå åñòü îñîáûé ñèìâîëèçì. Ìíîãèåðóññêèå è çàïàäíûå êðèòèêè îòìå÷àþò â ðóññêîé ìóçûêå, îñîáåííî â ìóçûêåØîñòàêîâè÷à è Øíèòêå, âíåìóçûêàëüíûå ýëåìåíòû è èõ ñèìâîëè÷åñêèå ñìûñëû. Âíåìóçûêàëüíûå èëè ñèìâîëè÷åñêèå ýëåìåíòû ïðîÿâëÿþòñÿ â èõ ìóçûêå ðàçëè÷íûì îáðàçîì.
Âî-ïåðâûõ, ýòî ìóçûêàëüíûå ëåéò-òåìû áóêâåííîé ðàñøèôðîâêè èíèöèàëîâ àâòîðîâ èëè äðóãèõ ìóçûêàíòîâ. Î÷åíü èçâåñòåí èíèöèàë Øîñòàêîâè÷à «DSCH» (Dmitrij SCHostakowitsch; ðå-ìè-áåìîëü-äî-ñè) â Äåñÿòîé ñèìôîíèè, â Âîñüìîì êâàðòåòå. Øíèòêå òîæå âîñïîëüçîâàëñÿ èíèöèàëàìè êàêìóçûêàëüíûìè ëåéò-òåìàìè.
Âî-âòîðûõ, îáà êîìïîçèòîðà ïðèâîäèëè öèòàòû èç ðàçíûõ ïî âðåìåíè èæàíðó ïðîèçâåäåíèé – ñâîèõ è ÷óæèõ. Â òîì æå Âîñüìîì êâàðòåòå Øîñòàêîâè÷à èìååòñÿ ìíîãî àâòîöèòàò.18
Â-òðåòüèõ, èõ ìóçûêå, îñîáåííî ìóçûêå Øíèòêå, õàðàêòåðíà òàê íàçûâàåìàÿ ïîëèñòèëèñòèêà.
Ïî ìíåíèþ Òàðàñêèíà,This “semiotic” or signaling aspect, a traditional characteristic of Russianmusic, is what makes Schnittke’s music so “easily read” – or rather, so easily
paraphrased on whatever terms (ethical, spiritual, autobiographical, political)
the listener may prefer.19
16 Èâàøêèí. Áåñåäû Àëüôðåäîì Øíèòêå. Ñ.81.
17 Alexander Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke (Phaidon Press, 1996), p.61.
18 Ñâîé ñòàòüþ î íåì Þðèé Êåëäûø òàê è íàçâàë «Àâòîãðàôè÷åñêèé êâàðòåò».
Ñîâåòñêàÿ ìóçûêà. 1960. ¹12. Öèò. ïî êí.: Äàíèëåâè÷ Ë.Â. Äìèòðèé Øîñòàêîâè÷: æèçíü è òâîð÷åñòâî. Ì.: Èçä. «Ñîâåòñêèé êîìïîçèòîð», 1980. Ñ.205.
19 Taruskin, Defining Russia Musically, p.101.

113ÍÎÐÈÎ ÓÌÅÖÓÈâàøêèí îáúÿñíÿåò:Russian music was always slightly different from European, and mostimportantly in a certain non-musical content... This was always true, perhaps
beginning with Glinka and the Mighty Handful, and it was particularly so with
Skriabin... But it is more observable now for a number of reasons perhaps
more social reasons than artistic ones... For many years we could not speakor demonstrate what we really thought, and therefore there arose a very
strange phenomenon, where something would reveal itself only a little on thesurface while the rest of it would remain under water, It’s like a great icebergof which only a small part appears on the surface.
And this is how there appeared the symbolism that is now typical of Russianmusic... a symbolism, as a rule, of very simple elements. And this is why formany musicians abroad new Soviet music seems very strange, especially themusic of Schnittke and Gubaidulina...
It’s important to understand this, to understand how the very simple elements
which are really there in our music, seem to us to be symbolical. This tradition
comes from Shostakovich, and especially from his late works, where something
very simple isolates itself, an interval, a sound or a rhythm, and becomes asymbol behind which has a meaning which the listener conjectures for themselves[sic].
That is to say, the music is more the occasion of meditation and philosophicalgeneralization than an end in itself... it was never simply a construction
in sound, never!20

3. ÂÌÅÑÒÎ ÇÀÊËÞ×ÅÍÈßÐóññêîé ìóçûêå ïðèñóùè âíåìóçûêàëüíûå ýëåìåíòû è èõ ñèìâîëè÷åñêèå ñìûñëû, è ýòî ïðîÿâëÿåòñÿ è â ìóçûêå Øîñòàêîâè÷à è Øíèòêå. Ýòèýëåìåíòû êàñàþòñÿ ðóññêîé íàöèîíàëüíîé èäåíòè÷íîñòè. Èíà÷å ãîâîðÿ, èñòîðèÿ ðóññêîé ìóçûêè ôóíêöèîíèðóåò êàê èíñòèòóò.
Íî òàêîå ïîíèìàíèå ðèñêîâàííî. Òàðàñêèí òàê ïèøåò îá ýòîì:Whether invoked in praise or in blame, the arbitrarily defined or proclaimed
Russianness of Russian music is a normative criterion, and ineluctably aninvidious one. If “How Russian is it?” Is your critical question, then however
the question is answered, and however the answer is valued, you have consigned
Russian composers to a ghetto.21

Â ñî÷èíåíèÿõ ðóññêèõ êîìïîçèòîðîâ è çàïàäíûå è ðóññêèå êðèòèêèâèäÿò ðóññêîå íà÷àëî. Íåñîìíåííî, ÷òî â çàïàäíûõ èññëåäîâàíèÿõ è êðèòèêå Øîñòàêîâè÷à èëè Ñêðÿáèíà áûëà è åñòü òåíäåíöèÿ îòðèöàòü è èãíîðèðîâàòü âíåìóçûêàëüíûå ýëåìåíòû è ñèìâîëè÷åñêèå ñìûñëû â èõ ìóçûêå.22
20 McBurney, op. cit., pp.120-137.
21 Taruskin, Defining Russia Musically, p.xvii.
22 Ibid., pp.xix-xx.

114ØÎÑÒÀÊÎÂÈ× È ØÍÈÒÊÅÄëÿ çàïàäíûõ êðèòèêîâ íàëè÷èå òàêèõ ýëåìåíòîâ îçíà÷àåò îòñòàëîñòü ðóññêîé ìóçûêè.
Òî æå ñàìîå ìîãóò ñêàçàòü î ìàíåðå êðèòèêè. Óòâåðæäåíèå èëè ïðèçíàíèå âíåìóçûêàëüíûõ ýëåìåíòîâ è èõ ñèìâîëè÷åñêèõ ñìûñëîâ â ðóññêîé
ìóçûêå – ýòî íîðìàëüíîå äëÿ Ñîâåòñêîãî Ñîþçà ÿâëåíèå, è, êðîìå òîãî, âàæíî,êàê èìåííî äàííîå ìóçûêàëüíîå ñî÷èíåíèå ïåðåôðàçèðîâàòü. Çàìå÷àòåëüíûì ïðèìåðîì áûëà ìóçûêà Øîñòàêîâè÷à. Ïî ñëîâàì Òàðàñêèíà,There are works of Shostakovich – the much-admired Eighth Quartet is one– that sound as though they were written to be paraphrased. And theparaphrase, especially when informed by ready-made assumptions, all too easily
replace the music as primary experience. The tendency to paraphrase
Shostakovich’s works rather than listen to them was an old Soviet vice, to besure, but in the spirit of revisionism it has infected and debased the receptionof his music in the West as well.23

Íî ñ äðóãîé ñòîðîíû, ãëàâó î Øíèòêå Òàðàñêèí çàâåðøàåò òàê: «Ðóññêèé ãîëîñ åùå ñïåöèàëüíûé, åùå ïðèâèëåãèðîâàííûé. Ðîññèÿ åùå îòëè÷íàÿ, åùå äðóãàÿ. È ðóññêàÿ ìóçûêà åùå èìååò ñïîñîáíîñòü îïðåäåëÿòüðàçëè÷èå».24
Â ïîñëåäíèå ãîäû èñòîðèÿ ðóññêîé ìóçûêè, íåñîìíåííî, ïåðåñìàòðèâàåòñÿ, è ðàçíûå âîïðîñû îñòàþòñÿ.

23 Ibid., pp.xix-xx.
24 “...a Russian voice is still special, still privileged. Russia is still different, stillother. And Russian music still has the power to define that difference,” Ibid.,
p.104.

115ÍÎÐÈÎ ÓÌÅÖÓ116