Music
His output includes more than seven symphonies, two violin concertos, two cello concertos, a piano concerto, six string quartets, two cello sonatas, ten piano sonatas, a requiem, chamber and vocal works, the opera The Stolen Sun, the operetta A Cockroach, three ballets The Twelve, Fly-bee and Yaroslavna (The Eclipse), and incidental music for theatre and film.
Tishchenko's music style and composing manner shows him to be a typical representative of the Leningrad composers' school. He was very much influenced by music of his teachers Dmitri Shostakovich and Galina Ustvolskaya, turning these influences in his own way. He tried to use some experimental and modernist ideas like twelve-tone or aleatoric techniques, but was much more attached to the native traditions of his homeland. He demonstrated a kind of originality, scoring his Second Cello Concerto for 48 cellos, 12 double-basses and percussion (1969). Ten years later, however, he re-orchestrated it for a more practical combination.
He was honored by Shostakovich's orchestration of his First Cello Concerto, and repaid his master by the orchestration, editing and transcription of a few scores by Shostakovich. Tishchenko's Requiem, to the forbidden poem by Anna Akhmatova, written in the period of political stagnation in 1966, was a courageous cultural gesture.
Read more about this topic: Boris Tishchenko
Famous quotes containing the word music:
“I cannot say what poetry is; I know that our sufferings and our concentrated joy, our states of plunging far and dark and turning to come back to the world—so that the moment of intense turning seems still and universal—all are here, in a music like the music of our time, like the hero and like the anonymous forgotten; and there is an exchange here in which our lives are met, and created.”
—Muriel Rukeyser (1913–1980)
“Not to sink under being man and wife,
But get some color and music out of life?”
—Robert Frost (1874–1963)
“On the first days, like a piece of music that one will later be mad about, but that one does not yet distinguish, that which I was to love so much in [Bergotte’s] style was not yet clear to me. I could not put down the novel that I was reading, but I thought that I was only interested in the subject, as in the first moments of love when one goes every day to see a woman at some gathering, or some pastime, by the amusements to which one believes to be attracted.”
—Marcel Proust (1871–1922)