Long, long ago, in a country far, far away there lived a young man named Ilya who was petrified by illness. When he was thirty-three he was miraculously healed by two wandering pilgrims. He then met the gigantic knight Svyagotor and received supernatural strength from him. He travelled to the court of Prince Vladimir the Mighty Sun in Kiev, and en route he captured the monstrous robber Nightingale who would kill travellers with his piercing whistle. At Vladimir's court Ilya used Nightingale one last time to kill the Prince's enemies and then struck his head off. In numerous battles with the attacking armies, Ilya always triumphed as he led his band of bogatyrs (knights). After defeating the Tartars, the bogatyrs became so vain and proud that they challenged the celestial armies to do battle with them. The two pilgrims reappeared, leading a heavenly army, and in a monstrous battle overwhelmed the bogatyrs and turned the fleeing Ilya into stone. Thus his life ended as it began, in petrification.
This tale of magic and heroism is the subject matter of a unique musical epic. The Ukrainian-Russian composer Reinhold Gliere composed his Symphony # 3 in B Minor, subtitled Ilya Muromets, in 1911. It's a unique piece in Russian music because it is one of the very few works that reaches so far back into the Middle Ages for its subject matter (so far as can be determined, a heroic bogatyr named Ilya lived in Kiev in the 11th century).
Ilya Muromets is also unique among pre-revolutionary Russian compositions in its sheer length and in the vast size of the orchestra required. When performed uncut, the symphony runs for about 75 minutes, and this length as well as the size of the orchestra invites comparison with the symphonies of Mahler. However, a closer parallel would be the Faust and Dante Symphonies of Franz Liszt, which are basically large-scale suites of tone poems related to each other by subject matter. So, too, with Gliere's epic: the story line rather than any considerations of symphonic form determines the shape of the music.
However, this does not mean that the music is shapeless and flabby. Far from it! The composer made use of several significant motto themes that stretch across the whole work or substantial parts of it. One of these is the heroic theme of Ilya himself. Another is an ancient Orthodox hymn tune which represents the celestial pilgrims. There's a deep brass theme with a clear dotted rhythm which represents Svyagotor and his superhuman strength. Each of these major melodies is long enough to carry the sizable burden of the lengthy structures which Gliere has created.
The orchestration of the symphony is masterly throughout. The orchestra requires quadruple woodwinds, eight horns, five trumpets, and a huge array of percussion. There are impressive moments of quiet reticence as well as passages of massive power in each of the four movements. The most sumptuous passage of all comes in the second movement when Nightingale's three daughters attempt to seduce Ilya into their arms before their father appears to kill him. The music here is pure Hollywood epic film romance before its time -- but very beautiful for all that. The third movement, depicting Ilya's arrival at the court of Vladimir, is a sparkling scherzo with the most definitely "Russian" sound of the entire work, and I suspect that Rimsky-Korsakov, himself a master orchestral colorist, would have thoroughly approved of it.
The finale is the most epic movement of all. It begins with the battle of Ilya and the bogatyrs against the Tartars, a wild allegro tumultuoso, and then continues with the proud challenge of the bogatyrs. After a sudden pause, the Orthodox hymn is heard deep in the low brass and slowly mounts higher and higher, gaining more and more strength and solemnity until in a final desperate conflict the divine powers overwhelm the bogatyrs. The moment when Ilya is turned into stone is marked by a tremendous climax of the entire orchestra, cymbals and tamtam reverberating madly into silence. There then follows a lengthy quiet coda recalling principal themes of all the movements with great restraint as if the petrified Ilya is still able to think and reminisce about the events of his life.
Needless to say, this massive work is rarely played and even more rarely recorded. Both Eugene Ormandy and Leopold Stokowski recorded it in the days of LP, but both cut the score severely to fit it onto a single LP. Many critics have written it off as the over-inflated doodlings of a third-rater, but I think that is totally unfair. I suspect some of the venom arises from the fact that Gliere became an honored Artist of the Soviet Union by toeing the Communist Party line, and in the Cold War years that was all it took to make him persona non grata with many Western musicians and journalists alike.
The recording I am listening to as I write this gives the lie to the assumption that this Symphony is not worth hearing. It's a splendid Chandos CD with the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir Edward Downes. In the rich, resonant sound that is the hallmark of Chandos, the massive orchestral effects all register with great clarity and power. Downes has the full measure of this sprawling score, and makes most effective tempo choices throughout. The recording is available both for download and as a CD, and is definitely well worth its cost if you like large-scale orchestral music from the end of the Romantic era.
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