Reflections

The fugue is generated from a marvelously constructed subject: it compels a study all its own. It is very symmetric in that it begins and ends with the same rhythmic motive. The pitch pattern is slightly adjusted so that the first motive feels open (the second G is approached from below) and the second motive feels closed (the second G is approached from above). The motive contains a dramatic and memorable downward leap of a 6th. The leap appears three times in the subject: at the head, the tail and in the middle. These three reference points define another symmetry: three posts making two arches, almost like a miniature rondo with two inner episodes for departure. Each inner episode climbs upward but arcs right back down into the gravity of the leap in accelerating descent. The second departure is more elaborate, a highly chromatic knot taking greater time and giving greater tension before it spins down into the final, third occurrence of the motive.

Shostakovich uses at least two distinct countersubjects in this fugue. The first and primary countersubject is, upon close inspection, much like the subject: it repeats a downward leaping motive three times, the final leap preceded by a buildup of chromatic tension which gives it great impact. When the subject and countersubject interlock in counterpoint, the leap motives are staggered so that the countersubject makes a kind of echoing imitation of the subject. This creates a very powerful and dense texture.

The rich complexities in this fugue seem endless. Here is a quick mention of some additional noteworthy facets. The forceful drive of the continuous texture is punctuated by a vivid counter-exposition. About 3/5's of the way through, the voices collectively sink into the bass, the lowest voice becoming a long pedal point as the others wind down into a fascinating evaporation of texture, momentum and music. Just as silence looms imminent, a lone voice, restored to its medium treble range, enters with the subject, initiating a new section which barely overlaps with the disintegration of the old. As one might expect, the counter-exposition is charged with a new tension: stretto. This fugue also has a bit of mystery. Midway through, the two lowest voices join forces and run through a quick melody with octave doublings. This happens twice. What is going on? A spontaneous dramatic flourish, a fleeting quote, perhaps a transformation of the fugue's main elements? Unknown. The fugue's ending is surprisingly cool, calm and composed. The Allegro smooths and slows into an Andante which tapers off, decelerating and diminishing in volume, pausing briefly before resolving on a very quiet, lingering G-sharp major chord. Though the fugue has ended, its conclusion is almost wan, its finality somewhat unconvincing relative to the extreme energy expended before it. Perhaps Shostakovich means to give us a sort of cliff hanger as if to say, half way through Op. 87, "to be continued". All in all, each of these elements demonstrate Shostakovich's characteristic use of a highly dynamic texture giving his fugues a colorful, almost orchestral quality.

So, here we are, half way through Op. 87. Shostakovich marks the half way point with this brilliant, multi-faceted fugue saturated with his very own modern musical personality. Taking a breath, it is worth stepping back to take in the larger entity of Op. 87 itself. There seems to be a macro occurrence of this motif of arches.

As one thinks about Op. 87 as a whole, it is tempting to suggest a basic programmatic structure defined by four of the most outstanding fugues. No. 1 and No. 13 share a classic character very much in the manner of Bach. Each fugue begins one half of the program, initiating a set of 12 preludes and fugues with a backward looking tribute to the inspiration of the entire work, Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier. No. 12 and No. 24 also seem to share a common character: they can be considered the masterpiece fugues in the contemporary style of Shostakovich himself. They each close one half of the program with the result of Bach's inspiration, the projection of Bach's art into the form and language of Shostakovich. It seems, furthermore, that the final fugue is a special case, encapsulating this musical dialectic recursively: it is a double fugue with each of the two nested fugues representing Bach and Shostakovich respectively. This is apt as it is the final fugue that terminates the program of Op. 87 in its entirety. It is particularly interesting that, typical of the double fugue, in No. 24 both subjects or personalities combine in a simultaneous overlay, a dual personality as it were. As further representation of the projection of Bach in to the character of Shostakovich, the double fugue No. 24 transforms the nature of its first, Bachian subject through a bold reincarnation unmistakably in the character of Shostakovich.

This may well be a fanciful indulgence that represents only one of many arbitrary groupings, connections or relationships one might find with imagination and the agenda of looking for something. Yet repeated listenings to Op. 87 seem to maintain this strong impression. It would also serve beautifully as a programmatic element for listening to or performing Op. 87 in two sessions: each half is wonderfully framed by a sort of journey, a time lapse, a progression. If this schematic view is faulty, it is chiefly due to the disservice it does to the fugues which are excluded, occurring within the arches as it were. Each and every fugue in Op. 87 is unique, masterful, a shifting blend of Bach and Shostakovich along a spectrum. Perhaps they implement further detail in a unified grand scheme.