Symphony No.1 by Boris Tishchenko: towards the “new shores” (on the revivalof Russian symphonism in the 1960s)

Serov Yurii Eduardovich PhD in Art History Lecturer and master of the student symphony orchestra at St.Petersburg music school named after M.P. Mussorgsky 191028, Russia, g. Saint Petersburg, ul. Mokhovaya, 36 serov@nflowers.ru Other publications by this author

B. Tishchenko's symphonic creativity is consonant with S. Slonimsky's thought about the ultimate expansion of the range of expressive means, his formula "everything is allowed and nothing is forbidden" ^{[1, pp. 7-8]}. In this sense, Tishchenko is at the head of the most advanced trends of our time. His "Schubert-like self-forgetful enthusiasm for the process of sound-making" ^{[2, p. 9]} instantly endeared him, attracted him, forced him to listen to his works. The creativity of the young Tishchenko was favorably received by both peers and the older generation of musicians. Regardless of the presence or absence of avant-garde techniques of writing in a particular work, in the music of the Leningrad author "a portrait of a man with many of his features similar to those people who at that time "inhabited" film frames and pages of stories, canvases and verse lines" ^{[2, p. 9]} was clearly outlined. It is this property of Tishchenko's music — to be a modern era — that we recognize as key, fundamental during his compositional start. He was recognized and accepted as an equal in the composer community before other young colleagues. He was not labeled a destroyer (the rejection of a number of "outdated concepts" does not count), but was accepted as a bright innovator. He was performed a lot and, perhaps, a number of critics and associates were ready to give him the banner of Soviet symphonism, which fell out of Shostakovich's hands in the mid-1970s. The scale of a number of Tishchenko's symphonic works, the depth of the questions posed in them, and the extraordinary skill, really disposed to that.

When immersed in the creativity and musical language of the "Sixties", we discover many techniques of the Western avant-garde. But this is understandable: it was interesting, fashionable, and modern to look for artistic truth in the dodecaphonic series and the labyrinths of aleatorics^[1]. A curious judgment about the avant—garde nature of Tishchenko's music is found in V. Kholopova: "One of the most difficult questions of Tishchenko's musical language is its correlation with the compositional innovations of the Western avant-garde. Russian Russian If some composers of the same generation as Tishchenko easily and naturally came into contact with the searches of Western colleagues (for example, Denisov), then for Tishchenko there was an invisible border that made his work more Russian than typically pan-European, Western <...> using everything, he softens mathematically in Slavic, in Russian a strict approach to the elements of technology, always keeping ready the opportunity to vary the technological element taken a priori" ^{[4, p. 61]}. Tishchenko's music is characterized by an unusual (and therefore surprising) synthesis of an extremely rational, sometimes almost "mathematical" approach to compositional work with the bubbling spontaneity of an improviser. The sound stream often prevailed in the fight against the restraining dams of technical constructions, and the desire and ability of the composer not to repeat himself, to get away from cliches — inherited or acquired — must be recognized as an important component of his musical aesthetics.

"He is the heir of Shostakovich, partly Ustvolskaya, and at the same time he is an innovator. He solves artistic tasks that are almost impossible, almost unsolvable," E. Ruchevskaya, who has known Tishchenko since adolescence, noted ^{[5, p. 145]}. This synthesis — of uncompromising innovation, the desire to reformat the content and, consequently, the form on the one hand, and reliance on tradition (recognition of "fathers", interaction with "grassroots" genres) on the other — becomes the most important component of Tishchenko's creative image. The young author fearlessly rushes to the forefront of the struggle for "new" music. He tirelessly expands the means of his musical language — Tishchenko's lively intonation gives birth to new meanings and forms. The horizontal movement of voices, based on mobile thematism, controls the harmonic vertical, leaving open the question of the tonal and atonal in his works. A rich, flexible, plastic metrorhythm (like the breathing of an organism) is the way his music exists. The textured appearance of his compositions is extremely diverse, and the instrumental timbre is independent and turns out to be the most important element of dramatic development. It seems that Tishchenko absorbs the entire surrounding sound background in order to melt it into a very personal and, to the highest degree, original statement. Like a medieval alchemist pouring multicolored liquids from various flasks into a cauldron boiling on fire, Tishchenko, from numerous stylistic and genre streams, creates an unusual and fresh musical fabric. But in the end he gets not a dead philosopher's stone, but living matter, a sincere and even passionate, sometimes deeply subjective, sometimes objectively epic story about the eternal problems of humanity - truth and injustice, crime and punishment, the crowd and the individual, love and betrayal.

"Tishchenko's style is multi-layered, multidimensional, and multifaceted. Cultural tradition, most of all Russian, inspired by a deep moral and ethical meaning, fertilizes his art as a whole. <...> His musical teachers — in his youth — Prokofiev, accompanying the Leningrad author throughout his artistic career, D. Shostakovich. There are strong ties with Stravinsky — not in the ideological and emotional, but in the technological sphere, partly in the nature of imagery; there are noticeable points of contact with the old masters-polyphonists, with representatives of the Novovensky school. The signs of Russian folklore genres coexist with elements of such technological systems and techniques as dodecaphony, aleatorics, sonoristics, collage, and recently with the peculiarities of thinking borrowed from Eastern cultures. The vividly, fully expressed ability to think in musical images allows Tishchenko to achieve in his works that natural "creative atmosphere" in which it is possible to combine seemingly incompatible phenomena" ^{[6, p. 302]}. We have given, perhaps, an exhaustive description of the stylistic components of Tishchenko, the composer, given in the distant 1970s by the researcher of his work M. Nestieva. And let's add that human and musician's uncompromising attitude led him to a deep inner conviction in the correctness of the chosen path of the innovator. The organicity of the young Tishchenko in all compositional (as well as pianistic and literary) manifestations seems to us to be the fundamental reason for his early rise.

Let us focus in this article on the First Symphony, one of the composer's key works on his way to "new shores" (in the figurative expression of V. Syrov ^{[7, p. 40]}), on the way of updating the domestic symphonism of the 1960s.

The first symphony ^[2] was created by Tishchenko in the class of O. Yevlakhov while studying at the Leningrad Conservatory and is dedicated to the memory of V. Voloshinov, who died a year earlier. According to the author, the idea and the first outlines of the composition were outlined with Viktor Vladimirovich, when Tishchenko was still his student ^{[3] [8, p. 82]}. The symphony employs a huge performing staff: triple wind instruments, four saxophones, a large percussion group, including a jazz setup, ionic, celesta, grand piano, two harps, strings and soprano solos. It is long in time — more than forty minutes — and five-part, like all the other numbered symphonies of the composer ^[4]. The youthful romantic, sincere, full of joyful light symphony became the most important milestone on the path of becoming a young author.

Let us cite M. Sabinina's correct thought that in the works of many composers there are "works that, like powerful radio beacons, send intonation waves around themselves" ^{[10, p. 280]}. Such, without any exaggeration, is Tishchenko's First Symphony. It reflected much of what would become the most important artistic and stylistic signs of the author in the following decades — he was very early identified as a major symphonist, his craving for the symphonic genre from a young age is truly amazing. Nowadays, having the opportunity to evaluate the composer's creative path from a bird's-eye view, it becomes obvious that it was in the symphony that his great and original talent was revealed and manifested most vividly and comprehensively. The central theme of Tishchenko's work — man and the modern world, the fate of spirituality, the moral and ethical values of the society around us - was able to sound fully and richly in large—scale symphonic works, whether they are symphonies, musical and dramatic opuses or instrumental concerts imbued with symphonic logic.

In the First Symphony, the composer comprehends life, he is concerned about the beauty around us. The hero of Tishchenko is a person reflecting, searching, experiencing violently. In struggles and dramatic fights, in tough trials, he overcomes adversity and insists on the highest human values. Being purified in the crucible of dramatic confrontations, it acquires new meanings, and its intonation appearance takes fundamentally different forms. The life-affirming power of Tishchenko's music is truly enormous and in this regard is closely connected with the primordial traditions of Russian symphonism: "no matter how acute the dramatic collision, the test is eventually overcome. Catharsis is becoming the norm, and in this it is impossible not to see the general humanistic orientation of his work" ^{[7, p. 7]}.

The appearance of the First Symphony was prepared by all the composer's previous (already quite numerous) compositions — the Second String Quartet (1959), the Piano Sonata No. 2 (1960), the symphony "Krenkebil" (1958) and, above all, the Violin Concerto (1958), with its special youthful romanticism, revealing in an objectively lyrical plan the idea of spiritual "purification". In the symphony, Tishchenko continues the line outlined by the concert: the bright, pure, direct collides with the negative, which makes the work a full-fledged drama. Spontaneity, sincerity of utterance, melodic generosity here are constrained by a much stricter dramatic framework. According to V. Syrov, "a single idea, opening its new facets from part to part, penetrates it like a rod. Perhaps, for the first time, the composer embodied so vividly an end—to-end process - everything is grown from one thought" ^{[7, p. 17]}. Tishchenko managed to express a deep philosophical subtext in his early symphonic work, convey serious moral issues, and speak deeply and comprehensively on contemporary and important topics for him. The composition fully demonstrated Tishchenko's talent as a symphonist and became an important part of his artistic heritage.

The first movement occupies a special place in the symphony — the main conflict and the most important stages of the dramatic process are laid here. The lyrical sphere, beauty, tenderness, spontaneity, personified by the chanting, melodically expressive, as if "colored" by the soft sunlight of the "Prokofiev" main theme in the sound of ionics and melodious violins supported by low strings, harps and French horns, encounters "evil", negative emotions, objective timbres of wind instruments in the side part. Her appearance is marked by a hard solo beat of the big drum. The flute and oboe join the "creeping", chromatically"sinuous" bassoon line, and the piccolo clarinet enters with an "impudent" loud motif. The tense "conversation" is picked up by more and more wind instruments, the score space is filled with harsh and jerky, almost verbal intonations. The development of the first part consists of two sections, it is lengthy, diverse in rhythmic and harmonic plans and extremely saturated with skillful intonation work. 

The "hooligan shout" of the clarinets becomes the main theme of a massive fugue, it repeats itself in various "layers" of the orchestral texture, timbre is repainted, turns into a formidable force, into a "filthy dance"^[5]. There is a mighty climax in which the author uses the maximum dynamic and register capabilities of a huge orchestra, and on its crest trombones, in a distorted form, carry out the initial theme of the ionic. The first round of the struggle ended with the victory of the forces of evil. In the next section of the development, the composer seems to comprehend its events, "objective contemplation here turns into a stormy experience (the dominance of strings), which neither the trumpet calls nor the heroic quarto motifs of the future finale can calm down for the first time" ^{[7, p. 11]}. Let's add that in this section the painstaking motivational work of the composer is even more impressive. Themes-"symbols" (the main theme, clarinet singing from a side part) and their various variants and elements, "scattered" across the groups of the orchestra, repeatedly echo, constantly changing their intonation appearance. From scattered, scattered fragments of once durable and stable sound material, the author begins to "collect" a reprise. The coda (aka reprise) takes us back to the enlightened pages of the beginning of the first part. The "fragments" of the main theme sound alternately at the French horn, the trumpet, the saxophone, the piccolo flute and the violins in an extremely high register. The rest of the strings have long melting pedals. The human, rational principle withstood, withstood the tests, but came out of them already "scorched" by life's adversities and emotional experiences.

  In the second part, the next round of narration begins — the sublime and soulful lyrics are also opposed here by ugly, spiritless, striving for domination forces. But, unlike the first act of the drama, the full-blooded melodism, which reaches a rare spirituality, wins here with a clear advantage. In terms of melodic work, this section of the symphony becomes a landmark for the composer. V. Syrov said this admirably: "It is impossible not to note the special skill of thematic transformation, it is here that for the first time the principle of germination in Tishchenko is clearly and artistically meaningful — the basis of his artistic thinking" ^{[7, p. 12]}. The low-pitched intonation of the sigh in the final theme of the exposition section (there is no doubt about its folk-song nature) becomes Tishchenko's favorite motif at all, giving his music an inexpressibly Russian look.

The second part begins with a small section-the introduction, in which, in general, its lyrical character is outlined. The chromatic octaves of the woodwinds prepare the captivating intro of the violins. A little later, in the second section of the introduction, there is a feeling of anxiety: on pizzica ti violins and staccati woodwinds, horns and trumpets have sharp (taken on sf) sounds-calls, however, after a general pause, the music returns us to the sphere of sublime melodism. The second part is written in sonata form with a mirror reprise and a development-episode. The exposition section is saturated with a variety of thematic and rhythmic transformations, a series of changing images tells us about the amazing melodic generosity of the author. The connecting part is characterized by a gloomy grotesque, the pages of Prokofiev's score "Romeo and Juliet" come to mind (the second part in general could become an excellent ballet adagio, there is definitely a dance plastic in it). The bizarre, rhythmically complex, dotted intonations of the wind instruments translate the episode into an extraordinary beauty and tenderness of a side theme, of which we have already spoken in our review.

The development-episode, as in the first part, is full of interesting orchestral details, the composer works very freely with the instrumental texture, the graphics of the score, on the one hand, are traditional, and on the other — sophisticated. The verticals of the orchestra are saturated, the author involves all, without exception, orchestral groups in sound construction. The intonation palette is dominated by grotesque songs from the binding part of the exposition. The composer brings the development to an impressive climax, a powerful chord on the fff of the entire orchestra. The reprise is marked by the return of a side theme, and this is one of the most powerful episodes of the entire symphony: the melody sounds performed by the most perfect instrument — the human voice, and its instrumental nature vaguely resembles Prokofiev's vocalizations^[6]. The reprise is significantly shortened, the themes are in the opposite order compared to the exposition, the music melts into the pizzicato of the strings that came here from the introduction.

In an excellent article published in a textbook on Russian music of the second half of the twentieth century, V. Syrov notes the "silence" in Tishchenko's works, says that "the composer returns the value of silent nature to music", that "silence and silence are indispensable attributes of inner life, fullness of thoughts and feelings" and, adding the thesis about Tishchenko's silence as an "interlude, a "respite" in the chain of dramatic events" ^{[11, p. 150]} gives an example of the slow movement of the First Symphony. Well, in terms of psychological respite, the role of this section is quite obvious, but it is not easy to hear the "silent nature" here. The composer is passionate about his melodic gift, his lyrics are endless, but the chain of dramatic collisions in Tishchenko's music is unstoppable, it is the core of his symphonism. 

The third part is the dynamic culmination of the cycle, the "evil" scherzo, a sharp shift towards negative images. Monstrous pressure, non—stop movement, massive sound layers, hectic "screeching" of individual voices, in everything there is a desire to distort, trample and destroy that charmingly beautiful thing that we heard in the previous part. Everything that was beautiful is now subjected to ridicule, and the grotesque turns into rudeness and almost vulgarity. Attempts to resist this unbridled element do not lead to success, the music of destruction keeps coming back. The culminating point-a demonstration of its disgusting appearance is a long solo of a drum kit, the most brutal rhythmic pattern of which demonstrates the invulnerability of this barbaric force. It is interesting that in the motley intonation fabric of the third movement we find melodic "fragments" that are already familiar to us — these are French horn motifs, and "grimacing" clarinet replicas from the first part, and a low-pitched pop song from the second, disfigured beyond recognition in this intonation "hell". The scherzo is perfectly solved for the orchestra: pumping, roll calls of groups, virtuoso techniques of playing instruments, a variety of rhythmic formulas in a multi-layered texture give the master's hand. Tishchenko freely handles all this sound mass, achieving a technological embodiment corresponding to his difficult artistic idea. Many of the composer's techniques, successfully found in the third movement of the symphony, we will find in his other major orchestral works. The first symphony, without a doubt, unwound the "spiral" of the composer's symphonic writing, gave him a solid foundation for further searches in the field of orchestral technique.

The scherzo ends abruptly. His understatement contains an important author's thought: Tishchenkovsky's hero is on the threshold of action ... or reflection, decision-making ... or escape from the ugly reality surrounding him. If the third part is a dynamic climax, then the next one is semantic. The scherzo carried away in its whirlwind something very valuable, beloved, vital support. The hero is devastated and confused, his consciousness is "disintegrating", he is trying to comprehend the results of the action of "hostile" forces, and this is a deeply internal process: he is looking for a way out in his own spiritual world, relying on his moral foundations and experience. We will repeatedly encounter similar states in the composer's later symphonies: after the climax zone, he almost always has a zone of mental catastrophe. Already in his early composition, Tishchenko quite accurately determined the basic compositional formula of his symphonism, solving difficult artistic tasks with verified expressive means and techniques.

The gloomy mood of the music is determined by the first theme, which is carried out in a low register by the bass clarinet and bassoons. "Narrow" interval ratios, "creeping" chromatic sequences, thick, but objectively cold timbre of low wind instruments are an expressive melodic find of the author^[7]. The next episode S. Slonimsky (in an article in 1963) called "the tango of death" ^{[12, p. 26]}, this name was fixed for the entire fourth part and repeatedly "surfaced" in the criticism of those years ^{[13, 14, 7]}. B. Katz subtly notices the author's orientation to the "grotesque Funeral March in the manner of Callot from Mahler's First Symphony", speaks of the "painful" self-irony of Tishchenkov's hero^{[8] [2, pp. 15-16]}. As if dancing, the string group of the orchestra enters the "case" (the composer emphasizes the peculiar "squats" with precisely placed strokes and articulation). There are definitely echoes of the funeral procession in this episode, but the author's remark — dolcissimo ironico — suggests that we do not take everything that is happening to heart. The third theme continues the "Mahler" line: the oboe, with a light accompaniment of pizzicati strings, is like a distant horn in a forest thicket (V. Syrov considers this topic to be "pop-up bright memories" ^{[7, p. 14]}. Note that all the episodes are connected by the "creeping" first theme of the fourth part, which is dressed in new timbre "clothes" at each appearance: there are annoying saxophones, pastoral French horns, and warm low strings.

Suddenly, imperious appeals invade — the middle section begins. Rigid dotted lines appear in the orchestra, powerful dynamics, virtuoso "running" with small notes of wood and strings, percussion instruments that have been silent until now actively enter, brass winds take on a serious sound role. The author tries to remove the obsession enveloping him by volitional effort, his desire to escape from the fetters of painful doom is felt. However, a quick reprise brings us back to reality: the "tango of death", having changed its timbre coloring (glissandi of saxophones, "detached" ionics, brass horns for weak beats), becomes even more like a surreal, almost cinematic picture of a "toy" funeral procession^[9]. "Before us is an artistic embodiment of mental depression caused by a tragic collision with something ugly, evil; this is the first reaction to evil" ^{[7, p. 15]}. There is almost no doubt that the hero failed to survive in an unequal battle.   

"The conclusion of the finale is life—affirming, optimistic, and this optimism, most importantly, was forged in the process of searching and thinking, and was not brought from outside" ^{[7, p. 16]} - we agree with V. Syrov, one of the first researchers of Tishchenko's creativity. The composer, indeed, managed to solve the difficult dramatic conflict of his first great symphony in an extremely organic way. Almost all the other finales will be "quiet", permeated with peace of mind, tenderness and love. Here, the author deploys the impressive forces of a huge orchestra to affirm the idea of returning to life. The gloom and despondency of the previous part dissipates instantly, from the first bars, from the invocation and volitional unison in tutti. It is noteworthy that the origins of the main theme of the finale are at the very beginning of the symphony, it turns out to be slightly over-toned (quarts instead of thirds and accent rhythms appear) with a heartfelt melody that opens the work. The heroic prowess of the first theme, its contrapuntal development (imitation performances), rich orchestral vertical and powerful dynamics instantly refer us to the "teachers", to the canons of the St. Petersburg school of composition. The impression is enhanced by the appearance of the second theme — heavily "dancing" at the brass brass, as if Ilya-Muromets finally got up from his stove, stretched and went squatting. In the future, the composer increases the orchestral texture (everyone plays all the time), brings the dynamics to gigantic values, accelerates the overall movement by gradually reducing the durations, in short, prepares a jubilant coda in which the distinctive sing-song of the main theme is repeatedly proclaimed by brass brass against the background of the "raging" orchestral mass.   

V. Syrov believes that "dramaturgically, the finale is an example of a non-standard solution to an artistic task. Being the last "turn" of the spiral, he, on the one hand, closes it and approves the main idea, on the other hand, summarizes everything previously said at the highest level. This determines the special emotional and semantic dynamism of the finale in comparison with the static (by design) third and fourth parts" ^{[7, p. 16]}. It seems to us that for a young composer, such a finale just turned out to be quite a "standard" choice. Let's recall those outstanding symphonic works that a student of the Leningrad Conservatory could focus on: the Fifth Symphonies of Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Shostakovich. In the choral symphony "Marina", which began immediately after the end of the First Symphony, based on the poems of M. Tsvetaeva, Tishchenko solves the finale in a highly non-standard way, but these are completely different images, another stage of his rapid musical maturation.  

Tishchenko's first symphony is the work of a modern man who thinks in a new way, although the "former" enters his sound—like world as an organic component. We will repeatedly return to this very special quality of the composer (the deep connection between tradition and innovation) in our research. Tishchenko's music is always a synthesis in which certain elements can play the main roles or be content with minor parts ^[10]. Moreover, this synthesis arises both along the stylistic horizontal (for example, epic and dramatic in the symphony itself, with a shift in emphasis towards the dramatic) and vertically (allusions to the music of Prokofiev, Mahler, Borodin). Special attention should be paid to the composer's work with thematism, his "cultivation" at the level of a part and the whole work (the roll call of the main themes of the first part and the finale). Melodic generosity and, at the same time, careful attitude to the elements of the theme, painstaking, thoughtful and freely improvisational treatment with intonation is the "trademark" of the author.

We will also highlight other fundamental pillars of Tishchenko's music, manifested in this work: the thematicity of absolutely all the material, linearity on a tonal basis, a variety of ways of temporal organization, timbre. It is necessary to dwell on the latter in particular: the instrumental timbre in the First Symphony is extremely individual, it becomes an important part of the dramatic plan. The transfer of any intonation from one instrument to another, any change in its phonic image is almost always a semantic change in the utterance. As B. Katz noted, "outside of a specific timbre, outside of register specificity, outside of a certain articulation, outside of this method of extraction, sound does not seem to exist for the composer" ^{[2, p. 145]}.  

Meanwhile, in the First Symphony we do not find a special "Tishchenkov" metric freedom ^[11], an abundance of polyrhythmic and polymetric drawings. It is obvious that they have not yet become an indispensable condition for the composer to "materialize" his artistic ideas and the subject of constant reflection. Recall that in his mature works Tishchenko uses strict metrics only as one of the possible means of expression. The compositional structure in the First Symphony is continuous, fluid, typical forms (especially sonata) control its sound flow. But B. Katz is absolutely right when he says that "sonateness in Tishchenko's music appears not in the form of a scheme, but in the form of two principles that are constantly inherent in this music: dynamic coupling and the final change in the ratios of thematic elements that were set at the beginning" ^{[2, p. 143]}. The musicologist believes that Tishchenko often seeks to "push back" the final state of thematism to the very end of the composition. Let's agree with this thesis: in the First Symphony we meet both a mirror reprise (the second part) and a combination of reprise and coda (the first part).            

The first symphony was born when its author was only twenty-two years old. With fervor and creative fervor, Tishchenko burst into the Soviet musical space, declaring himself as a great and original talent. His largely spontaneous sound-making kept pace with the times, in unison with the global changes that occurred in the domestic symphonism.  

^[1] R. Shchedrin complained about the ubiquitous dominance of the avant-garde movement led by Pierre Boulez in the 1960s: "Then it turned out that if you didn't "sign up for the avant-gardists", then you generally stay overboard" ^[3].

^[2] Symphony No. 1, in five movements. Op. 20 (1961). First performance: April 4, 1970 in the Great Hall of the Leningrad Philharmonic. Symphony Orchestra of the Leningrad Philharmonic, conductor E. Serov. Score: L.: Soviet Composer, 1971.

^[3] After V. Salmanov refused to study with a freshman Tishchenko, V. Voloshinov took him into his class. Before Death (1960) Viktor Vladimirovich "handed over" the student to O. Yevlakhov.

^[4] In a late interview, the composer said: "The symphonies that have a number are all five-part. When I wrote the First Symphony, it seemed to me that the five-part cycle was very convenient. Then I wrote the Second Symphony, and it also consisted of 5 parts. It seemed like a coincidence, and then the habit took effect. Although the Third Symphony consists of 2 parts: the huge first one is divided into four parts inside. The fourth Symphony does not even consist of five parts, but of five separate symphonies, but there is still the number 5, in which I can exhaust my statement to the end, otherwise something will be missing in my numbered symphony. I have non-five-part symphonies, but they are without a number, for example, the three-part "French Symphony". A one—part symphony with 11 divisions inside is a "Chronicle of the Blockade". These are program works that I do not relate to the cycle of my main symphonies" ^{[9, p. 9]}.

^[5] The roll calls with the "Russian" ballets of I. Stravinsky are undeniable here.

^[6] S. Prokofiev. "Five songs without words" for voice and piano. Op. 35 (1920).

^[7] B. Katz heard in this topic "the sound of a sadly off-key brass band of the dance floor (or, as they said then, "piglet")" ^{[2, p. 15]}

^[8] "It seems that the hero's experiences, tinged with painful self-irony, are rather associated with those losses and defeats that are so frequent in youth, which adults treat with a condescending smile, but which youthful maximalism is in a hurry to elevate to the rank of tragedy and truly feels as such" ^{[2, p. 16]}.

^[9] We find similar episodes in F. Fellini's films. Tishchenko, of course, could not see them (by the time the First Symphony was composed, "The Road" and "Sweet Life" were only in the western box office), but the images are similar.

^[10] According to B. Katz, "Tishchenko's individual style arises on the basis of authorization, mastering and assimilation of various stylistic influences. Of course, this can happen only if the author's consciousness is not subordinated to any of the styles perceived by him" ^{[2, p. 140]}

^[11] M. Nestieva noted: "The composer seems to have set himself the audacious goal of measuring the energy of a great variety of life processes, to catch their very breath — so rich, flexible, plastic are the forms and functions of the metrorhythm in his compositions" ^{[6, p. 303]}.