Shostakovich in the Berkshires

Not since Serge Koussevitzky introduced Negro Soprano Dorothy Maynor in 1939 had there been such a buzz of anticipation in the Berkshires. Six thousand musical pilgrims, who had bought their tickets weeks in advance, sat shivering in Tanglewood's Music Shed. Outside, in the chilly evening, another 2,000 huddled in the dew-covered grass. They were gathered to hear the U.S. premiere of Dmitri Shostakovich's new Ninth Symphony.

Russia's 39-year-old Composer Shostakovich himself had disarmingly described it as "a merry little piece. Musicians will love to play it and critics will delight in blasting it."

Dr. Koussevitzky, who is always enthusiastic about new things in rehearsals, glowed that it was classic in form and sometimes "very near to Haydn." The Boston Symphony conductor turned often to his protege, Leonard Bernstein, to remark "Isn't it beautiful?" Bernstein thought it a bore.

The Ninth's most unusual quality was its shortness: 33 minutes. Its five quick movements tumbled after each other, three of them without so much as a break. Instead of the shimmering wit of a Mozart or Haydn, they had familiar noisy devices from Shostakovich's tumultuous hour-long Seventh and Eighth symphonies. In the frail little Ninth, the whooping brasses and bassoon cadenzas were like 16-in. guns mounted on a PT boat.

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