Shostakovich saturates - Schumann awaits

Only six years ago, the composer and conductor Pierre Boulez, evidently frustrated by the continuing ubiquity of Shostakovich's music in concert halls and on CD, declared that popular interest in the Russian composer was "influenced by the autobiographical dimension of his music". A modish enthusiasm for him was bound to be short-lived, suggested Boulez, for the music itself was just "third-pressing Mahler" (an allusion to the process used to extract the cheapest and most tasteless kind of olive oil). Not long ago, in my presence, one of our most distinguished and brilliant musical academics wrung his hands and asked, "But this music is completely empty. What do they see in it?", while one of his colleagues was elsewhere heard muttering a version of that old jibe: "If I could press a button and destroy all memory of him and his music, I would press without hesitation." And the British composer and writer Robin Holloway has written passionately and vitriolically about what he considers the grotesque overestimation of Shostakovich.Shostakovich may be nearing saturation here On An Overgrown Path, and

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2006 is the 110th anniversary of her death.