The record I have listened to most this month is…main
… not terribly well played. Nor is the music brilliantly constructed. The opening movement is 20 minutes long, verging on inarticulate. The second is embarrassingly derivative. It is only when you get to the adagio that the emotional storm-force of Mieczyslaw Weinberg’s 12th symphony kicks in, revealing its inner anguish.
Written in 1976 in memory of his close friend Dmitri Shostakovich, the symphony struggles with its own composer’s life in the shadow of a genius, exposing untold depths of a human dilemma. I keep going back to hear it again.