MIKAEL TARIVERDIEV. 2018.
SEVENTEEN MOMENTS OF SPRING
(ORIGINAL SCORE). LP (UK)
МИКАЭЛ ТАРИВЕРДИЕВ. 2018.
СЕМНАДЦАТЬ МГНОВЕНИЙ ВЕСНЫ
(ОРИГИНАЛЬНАЯ МУЗЫКА) LP (UK)
Earth Records EARTHLP032
Matrix / Runout (Side A Runout): B135449-01 A1 57
Matrix / Runout (Side B Runout): B135449-01 B1 57
Винил, LP, 33 1/3, , Album, Reissue, Remastered
Страна: UK
Записан / Выпущен: 1972 / 2018
Жанр,стиль: Stage & Screen, Score, Soundtrack
mp3 320 кбит/сек. 125 Mb
Продолжительность: 45:54
TRACKLIST
SIDE ONE
01. On Tsvetochnaya Street * На Цветочной Улице - 03:16
02. Somewhere Far Away * Где-То Далеко - 02:48
03. The Echo Of War * Эхо Войны - 01:59
04. Black & White Rhythm * Черно-Белый Ритм - 04:15
05. Moments * Моменты - 02:04
06. Prelude For Ket * Прелюдия Для Кэт - 03:25
07. Farewell Station * Прощальный Вокзал - 03:38
SIDE TWO
08. Roads * Дороги
09. Night Patrol * Ночной Патруль
10. Spring Morning * Весеннее Утро
11. Couple In A Cafe * Пара В Кафе
12. Twilight In Berlin * Сумерки В Берлине
13. Escape * Побег
14. Do Not Think Of The Seconds From The Height * Не Думайте О Секундах С Высоты
Опубликовано-Antique Beat
Записано на Киностудия им. М. Горького
Фонографическое Авторское право
Эстрадно-симфонический оркестр Центрального телевидения
и Всесоюзного радио. Дирижер - Юрий Силантьев
Гитара - Алексей Кузнецов
Фортепиано, Сочинение, Тарелки, Ноты - Микаэл Таривердиев
Вокал Иосиф Кобзон (02,14)
Вкладыши - Татьяна Лиознова*
Текст песни - Роберт Рождественский (треки: 02 ,14)
Мастер - Константин Чернозатонский, Павел Хартфилд, Сергей Каштанов
Мастер, Продюсер, Вкладыши - Стивен Коутс, Вера Таривердиева
Дополнительные треки доступны через download:
1. Опасение 2. Вальс Для Габи 3. Не Так Уж Далеко.
FOR RUSSIA, WITH LOVE...
A MAN ENTERS A CAFE, TAKES A DRINK AND SITS SMOKING.
He watches as a woman enters with another man. They order coffee and
converse at a table. Her companion says something quietly to her and gets
up to leave. Alone, she looks around the cafe and suddenly sees the first
man. For the next six minutes, they look at each other, around each other,
through each other. Not a word is exchanged. The woman's companion returns
and leads her away.
This silent sequence, accompanied only by music, is from Seventeen Moments
of Spring, a 1972 Soviet twelve part television series. The scene was
resisted by the producers and included only on the insistence of the director
Tatiana Lioznova, but it became one of the best-known in Russian film history,
and its piano score one of the best-known pieces of Russian cinematic music.
The series tells the story of a Soviet spy (portrayed by the actor Vyacheslav
Tikhonov) operating undercover in Nazi Germany as military officer Max Otto
von Stierlitz. Stierlitz is on a covert mission to disrupt secret negotia-
tions aimed at forging a pact between Germany and the Western Allies. He is
sometimes referred to as 'the Soviet James Bond' and there are some
correspondences, despite the World War II setting: both Bond and Stierlitz
work for their respective countries' secret service agencies and both, in
various ways, reflect their cultures' idealised alpha males. But whilst Bond,
is a hard-drinking, hard-loving, wisecracking free agent, Stierlitz is
restrained, faithful to his wife, intellectual and modest. He spends much
time looking out of windows rather than crashing through them.
There is a further link in that Seventeen Moments was made partly in response
to the way the KGB was typically portrayed abroad in works such as the Bond
series (where it appears as SMERSH). At the end of 1960s, Yuri Andropov, the
KGB chairman, launched a campaign to improve the service's image by
commissioning a series of novels, songs and films glorify-ing KGB agents with
the intent of attracting new young educated recruits. The series was based on
the novel of the same name written, apparently in two weeks, by the spy
fiction author Julian Semyonov at Andropov's suggestion. It was commissioned
as a television series before the novel was even published and Andropov's
deputy Semyon Tsvigun served as chief `consultant' throughout the filming
and editing.
It is a testament to Lioznova's skill and determination that she was able to
make such a nuanced work under such conditions, adapting the novel for the
screen, adding characters and the groundbreaking six minute wordless scene of
Stierlitz's silent last meeting with his wife. One of the many extraordinary
facts about the film is that this scene is based on reality. During the war,
Soviet intelligence agents working abroad had no oppor-tunity to meet their
loved ones - sometimes for years. In order to avoid mental crises, so-called
'no-contact' meetings were arranged: an agent's wife would be brought to some
neutral country. The agent would travel there as well and at a certain hour,
they would see each other at a railway
station, a shop, or a cafe, without exchanging a single word, as speaking
might put the agent in jeopardy.
On broadcast, Seventeen Moments was immediately immensely popular with
an estimated audience of between 50 and 80 million viewers for each episode.
Crime rates dropped significantly during the broadcasts, city streets were
empty and power stations had to increase production to cope with a surge in
the demand for electricity for TV sets. It is said that Brezhnev moved
meetings of the Central Committee of the Communist Party in order not to
miss an episode and that Vladimir Putin's decision to join the KGB was
influenced by watching the series when young. It became the most successful
Soviet espionage thriller ever made. It was rebroadcast annually in the
Soviet Union and throughout the Warsaw Pact nations, and is still regularly
shown in Russia where it remains one of the most popular television series
of all time.
Without any doubt, the score by Mikael Tariverdiev contributed to this huge
success. He wrote it after some initial reluctance to be involved but its
popularity catapulted him to national fame. 'Somewhere Far Away' and `Moments',
remain some of the best-known and well-loved cinematic songs of the era.
The main theme and his piano underscore to that famous cafe scene where
Stierlitz and his wife meet-but-don't-meet must have surely captured the
haunted longings and romantic poignancy of a genera-tion of Soviet citizens
who had suffered their own forced separations, displacements, silences and losses.
The score presented here follows the narrative arc of the series' story. It
has been re-mastered from transfers made from original tapes in the Tariverdiev
apartment in Moscow. The download and CD versions contain three additional
tracks never before released — even in Russia — including the much-loved Waltz for Gaby.
STEPHEN COATES 2018
Performed by Mikael Tariverdiev (piano, cimbalon)
with the Pop Symphony Orchestra conducted by Jury Silantiev.
Guitar solo, Alexey Kuznetsov.
Somewhere Far Away and Moments sung by Josef Kobson.
Composed by Mikael Tariverdiev.
Lyrics by Robert Rozhdestvensky.
Recorded in 1972 at Gorky Film Studio.
Produced by Vera Tariverdieva and Stephen Coates.
Mastered with transfers from original tapes made by Vera Tariverdieva, Stephen
Coates, Paul Heartfield, Konstantin Chernazatonosky and Sergey Kashtanov.
Photographs courtesy of Mikael Tariverdiev, Vera Tariverdieva, Anna Tikhonova,
Paul Heartfield and the Russian National Museum of Music.
Published by Antique Beat.
WHEN I'M SCORING A FILM, I TRY TO PUT MYSELF IN THE
protagonist's place. So with the score for Seventeen Moments of Spring I
started thinking about what it must have felt like for a man to infiltrate
Germany many years ago, during that terrible war. The character of Stierlitz
is, after all, an amalgamation of three actual people who worked in the upper
echelons of the German government. Two were outed and killed, while one
survived. What must this man have felt? Well, obviously a degree of respon-
sibility, a sense of duty. But what was the most important thing? I felt it must
have been homesickness. I could be wrong; I was never an intelligence officer
after all. But what is homesickness? It is missing your people, missing your
wife. Very romantic, but somehow not right. Or could it perhaps be missing
the sky, your sky? For the sky is different everywhere. The sky in Yalta is
different, completely different, from the sky in Moscow, or in Berlin. There's
a completely different sky in America, a different sky in Japan, a different sky
in Mexico. I've seen it. And so I wanted to create a sense of homesick
longing, not for the Russian birch tree, but for the sky. The Russian sky.
I had a long conversation with the director Tatiana Lioznova on this subject.
To the sky, which had been my idea, she added cranes, birds that know no
boundaries despite a war. That was how I was to express nostalgia. And if I
did that, we had a solution for the film. Nothing else was needed; the cast
would do the rest. That was how the theme 'Somewhere Far Away' was born.
I intended to carry it through the entire film and make it the foundation of
the series. However, as there were to be twelve full-length episodes this
didn't work. It became clear that another theme was needed. And I thought of
fleeting moments, slipping away like sand through your fingers. Those were,
after all, the final months of the war. Moments, moments, 'Moments': that was
the theme I came up with. Along the way, we needed yet another theme: that of anxiety. Tikhonov was, after all, starring as a military intelligence colonel of "Nordic character". Thus the anxiety had to be driven a little deeper inside; in other words, that state of mind had to be conveyed through music. We had to introduce a theme of nervous apprehension, of anxiety and worry, while Tikhonov would maintain a thoroughly reserved expression on screen. "lhere," I thought, "now we have ft". But no; by the fifth episode, we saw that we needed yet another theme, of motion. Float-
wise, that theme connected to Stierlitz, Schlag and Pleischner's trips to
Switzerland. In the end, we had four themes at work in the film.
When the first three episodes were ready — vve were both filming and delivering
them in batches of three — we saw that we needed one more colour, so I had to
create another theme: reflection.
Our script had no scene of the protagonist seeing his wife. Lioznova decided to
add it during filming. The agent's wife walks into a cafe, carrying shopping bags
and accompanied by an embassy staff member, without even knowing she is about to see her husband right here and now. The embassy escort asks her to look to her
right, but inconspicuously, and she sees her husband. The tiniest hint of a
reaction could cost him his life. When I was told about such meetings, I was
stunned. So I wrote the music. An eight-minute prelude. Eight minutes without a
single ,,ord. The escort says, "I'm going off to buy matches", and the scene begins
in which Stierlitz and his wife's eyes meet. All noises were removed at that point:
all the real sounds of the cafe, the datter of tableware, the creaks and footsteps;
sound was removed altogether, with only the music left.
My original score was for a large symphony orchestra, but when we combined that
with the picture, it gave a bad, hollow impression. We only left the piano. And
two people's gazes, their faces. They weren't doing anything besides staring.
Vyacheslav Tikhonov is a great actor. But he purposely did everything to avoid
adding anything to the musk. The music had, of course, been written beforehand,
and was playing while Lioznova was shooting. This was her directorial insight
that she handled brilliantly. When I showed her the music for that episode, her
reaction was very emotional. She was elated, she wept. It was extremely moving,
and things were working out.
MIKAEL TARIVERDIEV 1995
TODAY, 45 YEARS AFTER SEVENTEEN MOMENTS OF SPRING
aired for the first time the series itself and its behind-the-scenes story are surrounded with myths, urban legends, and anecdotes. Its few surviving creators and participants still feel the burden of its startling popularity when they discuss it. But when it all began, hardly anyone foresaw the film's amazing and strange destiny. Back then, there was simply the work. Interest-ing, exciting work that was often also painful and tedious. None of them thought they were making history. But everyone who appeared on screen, even briefly, everyone who was involved with the film, would feel its influence in their lives. It was the birth of a new aesthetic, an aesthetic of the 1970s and it emerged in an accomplished form. It was an abrupt change of outlook compared with the methods
of the 1960s. The director Tatiana Lioznova, who really belonged to the aesthetic
that preceded the sixties, moved into a territory where nothing was declared
explicitly, where some things were implied but expressed in other ways, where
the bare starkness of the sixties style was no longer possible.
Mikael Tariverdiev's score had a great deal of influence on both its aesthetics
and its reception; but what was that music about? The protagonist's inner life
is what it was about. Mikael never failed to stress that "when I'm scoring a film,
I try to put myself in the protagonist's place." So time and again, he identified
with the hero and then wrote about himself. For this film, he had been introduced
to an intelligence agent and had many excited conversations with him, listening to
his stories, discovering the details of a life that he found romantic (he could
always relate to Ione heroes championing their ideals). And what did he define as
the key theme of this inner life? Nostalgia; the longing for a distant homeland.
During one of my trips to Tbilisi, someone said to me at a concert of Mikael's music:
"It's such a pity Mikael Leonovich never wrote a song about Tbilisi". "But he did"
I replied: "Somewhere Far Away from Seventeen Moments." This is both true and untrue. The song is about Tbilisi and the lost world of his childhood but above all, it is about the distant and lost homeland of every artist, every individual. Time and again, a nostalgic tone comes through his music, a tone that, from the very first few bars, leaves no doubts as to who composed it. His score to Seventeen Moments of Spring gives it a degree of musical and emotional depth without which it would have perhaps have been just another series about just another spy.
VERA TARIVERDIEVA 2003
I UNDERSTAND WHY TARIVERDIEV HESITATED BEFORE
agreeing to write the score. He couldn't imagine how he, with his gift for lyricism,
would fit into a thriller. But there was a reason I approached Tariverdiev. I knew his
music well, I liked it, I was attracted by its amazing depth of feeling and heart-
wrenching tenderness. I was aware of Tariderdiev's views on the role of music in film; I had after all attended his lectures at the Gerasimov Institute where I'd been a student. And that was the kind of composer I needed, one who wouldn't be led by the material, but would instead use the power of his individuality and worldview to contribute to the film something that neither I, nor the cameraman, nor the cast would've been able to express. This work was painfully hard for all of us. We had to keep the entire twelve episodes' worth of screenplay in mind at all times. Professional memory often failed us. When and how was the central theme to give way to others; where would a particular scene fit in — those were things you couldn't take into account all at once. As a result, there had to be a lot of recombination, re-cutting and editing. And considering that music was being written while shooting was underway, and sometimes ahead of it, it was incredibly import-ant for me to know where it was going to go, where I, as the director needed to step back
and let it play more powerfully, since it would be able to express more than the cast and I were capable of. You can imagine then, how hard the composer's job was. It was a colossal, superhuman effort. So many times, Tariverdiev had to rebuild the dramatic structure of the score, discard what he'd already composed and write new music. He would arrive at the set early in the morning and leave after midnight, working with a rare dedication, a selfless fanaticism. He continued to work at night. He'd call me in the middle of the night with a new melody he wanted me to listen to. He played it into the receiver, and we discussed and approved it on the spot. And in the morning, he'd bring something entirely different to the studio, believing the original one had been mediocre or downright bad.
TATIANA LIOZNOVA I 915
(courtesy Anatol, Tzuker)
(P)&(C) 2018 Earth Records
ANTIQUE BEAT
Barcode: 8 09236 17326 3
Оцифровка: indy-73 (rutracker.org)
Источник: личная коллекция indy-73
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