The Evolution of DSCH?

Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-75) engaged in a musical practice frequented by other composers. He included in some of his works a musical signature built from letters of a name, his own in this case, and corresponding with note names. J. S. Bach did this with his own name, B-flat, A, C, B-natural, Robert Schumann had his ABEGG Variations, and Schumann also composed a piano piece built from the last name of a close friends of his, GADE. For Shostakovich he used the first initial of his name followed by the German spelling of his last name, Schostakowitsch, to form his musical signature, DSCH. This signature appeared in some of his later works, most notably in his Tenth Symphony, Op. 93 (1953) and his Eighth String Quartet, Op. 110 (1960). But I believe there are two earlier appearances that foreshadow the use of this motive. They come from a time before Shostakovich mentioned anything about a motive, or developing one. So, I consider these earlier examples to be a playful stage in the development of DSCH.

To begin, neither of these early examples are the motive since there is a slight variation in the tonal cell. DSCH comes from the German spelling of Shostakovich's name, and he chose the German spelling of his name so it could fit musically. In German Es is E-flat, and he simply took the letter S and applied it to the German spelling of E-flat. In the German notational system, H is B-natural. So the motive translates musically to D, E-flat, C, B-natural. My first example comes from the middle section of the finale to his Sixth Symphony, Op. 54 (1939). In this example, the tonal cell (the pattern of tones and semitones), (0134) if you want to get post-tonal about it, is intact, but at the wrong pitch. Instead of D, E-flat, C, B-natural, the motive is a semitone high at E-flat, F-flat, D-flat, C. While a graduate student at Indiana University, I mentioned my observation to Shostakovich specialist Malcolm Brown, and he agreed with me. This is the earliest appearance of this tonal cell, well before DSCH entered Shostakovich's landscape and mind.

The next example comes from the second movement to his First Violin Concerto, Op. 77/99 (1948). In her book Shostakovich: A Life Remembered, Elizabeth Wilson states that the DSCH motive was used in the First Violin Concerto. But Wilson is not correct about this. Shostakovich is off by one semitone. In the second movement to the First Violin Concerto, the soloist double stops, in octaves, something that sounds similar to the D, E-flat, C, B-natural motive, yet the motive in the Concerto is actually D, E-flat, C, B-flat (not B-natural). Once again Shostakovich was close to using his musical signature, but he was off by one semitone at the very end. Yet, the personal and political implications at the time he composed his Concerto must be taken into account. Had Shostakovich considered the use of a personal motive at this point in his career? So far, there is not enough evidence to support this. This example, and the previous one, may suggest that this was a melodic cell Shostakovich favored and liked to use. Perhaps so much so that he decided to transform it into a melodic motive to represent himself.

Certainly by the time of his Tenth Symphony and Eighth String Quartet, Shostakovich crystallized this motive and its integration into these works. Particularly with the Eighth String Quartet, where he included so many quotations from previous works and dedicated the string quartet to the memory of his life. Shostakovich planned to commit suicide after he completed the quartet, and it stands to reason why he would represent himself through this musical signature.

Below is a collage of the motive as it appears in the Sixth Symphony, the First Violin Concerto, The Tenth Symphony, and the Eighth String Quartet.

From Bach to Queen?

A question of influence is always, well, questionable. Sometimes there is substantial proof through other primary sources that goes beyond the music that help confirm a question of influence, such as journals, letters, and correspondences. Other times the influence is rather substantial and/or strong enough that one can infer an influence without confirmation through external sources. Then there are times when an influence is detected but a lack of evidence prevents one from knowing for certain. The idea and concept of influence, quotation, modeling, and allusion go back centuries, yet the same questions enter when one questions a work influencing another. "Did A know B, and his/her work, and, if so, how well?" "Would A have heard the work of B, and, if so, how may it have influenced them?" The pinnacle question concerning this post is, "If the quotation is so slight and brief, fleeting, is this really an example of quotation, or merely a coincidence?"

Sometimes when I listen to music I pick up on some similarities I have heard in other works. It may be the melody, the harmony or chord progressions, or even the orchestration. Sometimes the similarities are substantial, and sometimes they are slight and happen in passing. The example for this post concerns the latter. And it is one that spans across centuries and genres.

The band Queen produced hit songs and albums in the 1970s at a time when rock was elevated to such terms as "art rock" and "avant-garde rock." Their 1975 album, A Night at the Opera, the title taken from a Marx Brothers comedy, was very successful and is littered with artistic influences from classical music. This style continued in the band's 1978 album Jazz, and was written by frontman Freddie Mercury. I have picked up on an unlikely source for the antecedent phrase for the opening verse to the song "Bicycle Race" from this album. And the potential influence comes from, of all things, a Bach cantata!

After the four-measure unaccompanied choral introduction to Queen's "Bicycle Race," the first two measures of the opening verse contains the same melodic contour and direction from the opening chorus to J. S. Bach's cantata, Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan, BWV 99 ("What God does is well done"). The example is a mere two measures, which causes me to question whether J. S. Bach is quoted by Freddie Mercury. But the two share such a melodic affinity with each other that I find it interesting. How well did Freddie Mercury know J. S. Bach and his cantatas? I have no idea. Was Freddie Mercury a secret admirer of the music of J. S. Bach? Not sure. I know Freddie Mercury studied art and classical music in his youth. But how much was he exposed to, how much of it did he retain, and did any of it influence the music we know today? Either this is a slight homage (or a wink and a nod) to Bach, or it is a whimsical coincidence. The Bach cantata in question is not even one of his more familiar cantatas to the general public. Here are excerpts from the two to hear for yourself.