Instrumentalists of the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks

in honour of Galina Ustwolskaja

Special concert of the musica viva commemorating the 100th birthday of the russian composer

Thursday, 21 November 2019 | Herkulessaal in the residency of Munich | 8 pm


Galina Ustwolskaja © LMN

Henri Dutilleux [1916-2013]

Trois Strophes sur le nom de Sacher [1976]
for violoncello solo

Johann Sebastian bach [1685-1750]

Suite for violoncello solo No. 5 in C minor
Prélude – Allemande – Courante – Sarabande – Gavotte I/II – Gigue

Galina Ustwolskaja [1919-2006]

Compositions 1, 2 and 3 [1970-75]
Dona nobis pacem for piccolo flute, tuba and piano [1970-71]
Dies irae for 8 double basses, percussion and piano [1972-73]
Benedictus, qui venit for 4 flutes, 4 bassoons and piano [1974-75]



Nicolas Altstaedt, Cello

Instrumentalists of the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks:
Natalie Schwaabe, Piccolo
Henrik Wiese, Ivanna Ternay and Petra Schiessel, Flute
Marco Postinghel, Susanne Sonntag, Rainer Seidel and Francisco Esteban Rubio, Bassoon
Stefan Tischler, Tuba
Lukas Maria Kuen, Piano
Markus Steckeler, Percussion
Heinrich Braun, Philipp Stubenrauch, Yirung Lai, Simon Wallinger, Frank Reinecke, Teja Andresen, Lukas Richter and José Trigo, Double Bass

About the programme

“To me she’s like a meteorite that fell to earth.” Commentaries on Galina Ustvolskaya, like this one by Martin Hinterhäuser, often go to extremes. Born in 1919, this Russian composer knew no middle ground; her music opens up gaping chasms. When quiet realms shudder beneath a hammerblow, she reduces her resources to a bare minimum. No one before had ever shown how infinite is the distance separating a tuba from a piccolo. Ustvolskaya commanded respect with her unwillingness to compromise. One of her teachers, Dmitri Shostakovich, called her “my musical conscience” and subjected his unpublished works to her scrutiny. Her own works, of which only 25 reached publication, are often written for small ensembles, but hardly for small spaces: “My music is never chamber music, not even in the case of a solo sonata!” Her pupil Boris Tishchenko compared the density of her style with the bundled rays of a laser beam, which is capable of piercing metal. Now, for the centenary of her birth, Nicolas Altstaedt contrasts her Triade with two pieces for unaccompanied cello that convey not only the profound loneliness of her music but its existential force.

Our site uses cookies to individually display content and measure reach. We incorporate third-party elements such as Facebook and Youtube. Please see our Privacy Policy for details.