“The sonata seems almost like its crosswise with itself. On the one hand Shostakovich describes it as “clear” and “brilliant,” yet on the other it does have a mournful air around it. The piece’s resignation is almost to be expected since it was his last work. Similarly, the sonata is incredibly sparse, with what seem like allusions to Berg and Webern, but also incredibly complicated and dense in parts. Is it possible to reconcile all of these differences?”

If you haven’t looked at it you might want to find a copy of Vol. 16 no. 1 of The Journal of the American Viola Society. It has an article by Donald Maurice entitled “Schostakovich’s Swansong” (Note the interesting spelling of Shostakovich). There are a few dissertations that may also be of interest, notably “The Shostakovich Viola Sonata: An analytical performer’s guide,” from 1991 by Leslie Faye Johnson at University of Washington.

I’m currently looking at two books on Shostakovich which are new to me:

The New Shostakovich by Ian MacDonald, and
Shostakovich Reconsidered by Allan B. Ho & Dmitry Feofanov

If you haven’t read either of these, I can give a cautious recommendation based only upon preliminary searches of their contents, but they seem quite solid.

Thanks, again!

“[Shostakovich] was dressed in a summer outfit: grey pants with suspenders and a white sleeveless shirt that outlined his thinned, wizened arms. His helplessly hanging right hand was supported by his left one. His hair had gotten grayer and thinner, his facial features sharper and longer, his mouth flabbier, and his lower lip more stretched. Yet he did not look old – something impulsive and childishly touching remained in his demeanor…He began talking about his illness: ‘I get treated and treated but with no improvement. They have been treating me since 1958 and trying hard to find the cause, yet I am still unable to play.’”

The second, more directly relevant item comes from Fyodor Druzhnin, violist in the Beethoven Quartet and the artist for to whom the Sonata is dedicated. I apologize for the length of this passage, but this seems to call out for an almost complete quotation:

“On 1 July 1975 the phone rang at nine o’clock in the morning. I heard the familiar, slightly rasping voice, ‘Fedya, this is Dmitri Dmitriyevich Shostakovich speaking.’ He always presented himself thus, using his full name, although I immediately recognized his voice. ‘Fedya, you know I have the idea of writing a viola sonata.’

My heart was pounding, because I knew that when Dmitri Dmitriyevich spoke og having ‘an idea’ of writing something, it meant that the concept had ripened and the work was probably complete. He would never speak of something that was only a projected work.

‘I would like to consult you, to ask your advice on some technical points.’ There followed some questions about my family, my health and so on….I assured [him] that I was entirely at his disposal, and if he wanted I was ready there and then to come and see him with my viola.

‘That would be wonderful, but I am not allowed to see anyone. I am at my dacha, but I am going into hospital very soon; as soon as I am discharged, then we will meet. I will ring you to inform you of the progress of the work, and I will write you from the hospital.’

In two hours’ time, [he] rang me again: ‘I wanted to ask you this: can you play parallel fourths on the viola? I know that double stopping is traditionally in thirds, sixths, and octaves. But here I want fourths, and at quite a quick speed.’ Here he sang me what he had in mind. I encouraged [him] to write whatever he liked – viola players would stretch their technique and learn to play scales in fourths. For several days we had conversations like this on the phone. [He] was touching in his punctiliousness, and kept me informed of the progress of his work. He complained about his hand: ‘You know it is very difficult for me to write, or rather to write down the notes. I spend an awful lot of time at it as my hand shakes, and won’t obey me.’

On 5 July, [he] rang me and said, ‘Fedya, you would probably like to know at least in outline the programme of the sonata?’ He had never before talked, at least to me, of the inner content of his works….

‘The first movement is a novella, the second a scherzo, and the Finale is an adagio in memory of Beethoven, but don’t let that inhibit you. The music is bright, bright and clear.’ Evidently, [he] wanted to emphasize that the music was not morbid and should not be regarded as a funeral march….

That same day in the evening [Shostakovich's wife] rang to say that he wished to speak to me.

‘Fedya, I have buckled down to it, and managed to complete the Finale. I am having the score sent to the Union of Composers to be copied, as no one could possibly read from my manuscript. as soon as the copying is done, I’ll let you have the music. I have to go into hospital now, but I’ll have a telephone there by my bed, so we can talk….’

[In] a few days time I received a letter from [Shostakovich] in hospital, which calmed my fears. He gave me his telephone number in hospital. But when I tried to ring, there was no answer. I tried ringing his wife [...] but discovered that she was with him in the hospital. Eventually I discovered that [his] condition had deteriorated, and he had been transferred to a special ward where there was no telephone. I immediately rushed up to Moscow so as to be nearer him.

The preparation of the score was dragging on, and this upset and irritated Shostakovich, although he was used to these kinds of delay. But he regarded them as a discourtesy. Eventually I got through to [his wife], and I calmed down a little, as she said [he] felt somewhat better, and the music was now ready, so I would receive the score probably on 6 August. It was arranged that I would pick it up from their flat on Nezhdanova Street. When I arrived I was handed the score. On opening it I stood rooted to the spot as I read the inscription on the title-page: ‘Dedicated to Fyodor Serafimovich Druzhinin.’

I rushed home and immediately rang [my pianist]. He came flying over to my place and we thereupon started playing the sonata and continued playing it till late at night. Immediately afterwards I sat down to write a long letter to [Shostakovich] to express my profound gratitude to him and my immense admiration for the sonata, which sounded marvelous, and to reassure him that there wasn’t a note in it that could not be played. I promised to be ready as soon as possible to perform it to him, and at latest, if he approved of our interpretation, to schedule it for a concert on his birthday, 25 September.

This letter was written during the night of 6 and 7 August. On 9 August Dmitri Dmitriyevich died in hospital.”

The source for the first item is Sofia Moshevich’s book, “Dmitri Shostakovich, Pianist,” and Druzhinin’s recollection is reprinted in Elizabeth Wilson’s “Shostakovich: A Life Remembered.”

I hope these help shed some new light on this truly remarkable piece.