In 1962, Shostakovich composed his 13th Symphony, based on five poems by Yevtushenko. These poems reflect on Soviet society during the 1950s and 60s, exploring themes ranging from the suffering caused by Nazi Germany and the resilience found in humour, to the trauma of Stalinism and the strength of suffering women. The symphony also addresses integrity in labour, rejecting bureaucracy and opportunism. Moved by these texts, Shostakovich sought and received Yevtushenko’s permission to set them to music. The resulting work—often referred to simply as Babi Yar, after its first movement—transcends specific events, encompassing the historical and contemporary USSR, achieving philosophical depth by invoking themes of enduring human relevance.
Babi Yar, a ravine near Kiev, was the site of one of the most horrific massacres of the fascist genocide. On 29–30 September 1941, the SS Einsatzgruppe C murdered nearly 34,000 Jewish civilians. In total, about 100,000 people—including Roma, Soviet prisoners of war, and Ukrainian nationalists—were killed there. This atrocity, along with the deaths by starvation of a million Leningraders, stands as a symbol of the brutality of the fascist occupation. Shostakovich had previously dedicated his 7th Symphony to the victims of the Siege of Leningrad.
The symphony begins with the haunting entry of the choir: “There is no memorial above Babi Yar. / The steep ravine is like a coarse tombstone.” The lyrical-musical “I” identifies with the historical trauma: “I am.” Through this, it embodies the suffering of the Jewish people—from biblical events to the Dreyfus Affair, the Białystok pogrom, and the fate of Anne Frank. This merging of the “I” with the persecuted invites the audience into a shared space of memory and mourning.
Hatred of Jews serves as a measure of historical barbarism and symbolises all forms of ethnic hatred, as well as the consequences of domination and violence. Overcoming notions of superiority and inferiority is considered a prerequisite for any human society. The lyrical “I” expresses dismay at persistent antisemitic prejudice: “How filthy that without the slightest shame / the anti-Semites proclaimed themselves: / (with choir:) ‘The Union of the Russian People’.” Text and music underscore a demand for historical truth and recognition, grounded in humanistic values.
Musically, the first movement is dominated by dark B minor and dissonant textures. Deep strings, brass, muted percussion, and low soloist and choir registers create a suffocating atmosphere. The music becomes “a long, soundless scream / above the thousands and thousands buried here,” and from this lament emerges an accusation. Dissonances sustain a tense environment, intensifying mourning and evoking silent cries. The male choir gives a ghostly collective voice—the voice of history. At times, the music is onomatopoeic, mimicking crowd movements or gasps.
The second movement introduces Humour as ironic counterpoint. Musically, it features surprising rhythms and dynamic shifts. Humour appears as resistance—a will to survive. Humour cannot be bought or eradicated; it reappears again and again. He is even armed when the Winter Palace is stormed. At its heart, humour embodies the voice of the people.
The third movement, In the Store, contrasts the second. Now, the focus is contemporary Soviet life. The music is solemn: women walk slowly, burdened with jugs and bags. Shostakovich uses tone painting—clattering jars, shuffling feet. The soloist recounts: “as though to some heroic enterprise or to work, / into the store one by one / the women silently come.” The choir echoes: “They have endured everything, / they will continue to endure everything!” And the text suggests that these women are often treated unfairly.
A restrained dynamic range and simple rhythms create a grounded, reverent tone.
The fourth movement, Fears, explores the legacy of Stalinism. It opens with an unsettling solo tuba theme. The choir enters forcefully, giving voice to collective oppression. The soloist’s dialogue with bass clarinet evokes trauma. Although the choir sings “Fears are dying out in Russia”, music and text show they are far from gone. A choral melody recalling revolutionary songs offers lift, but irony prevails: “at times we were mortally afraid / of talking to ourselves.” Outward optimism masks inner tension.
The fifth and final movement, A Career, based on a poem written for Shostakovich, returns to themes of integrity and responsibility. It opens with a meditative melody. The scope broadens again. The soloist and choir reflect on Galileo’s moral courage, contrasting him with a cowardly careerist. Irony turns into tribute: “They’re forgotten, those who hurled curses, / but we remember the ones who were cursed.” True heroes are those who advanced humanity: “All those who strove towards the stratosphere, / the doctors who died of cholera”. Through music, tribute becomes moral orientation.
The premiere on 18 December 1962 took place under political pressure. Khrushchev and Yevtushenko clashed over antisemitism. Nevertheless, the performance at the Moscow Conservatory went ahead to a visibly moved audience.
The symphony reflects on Soviet society in the early 1960s. Its foundation is the vision of a socialist society. Neither composer nor poet rejects this ideal. Instead, they seek to provoke thought and renew commitment through honest engagement with painful truths.
Controversy centred on the first movement. Critics claimed it excluded non-Jewish victims, or objected to the idea of Jewish suffering symbolising all. Public discussion of antisemitism was considered unacceptable. Other movements also raised concern: the portrayal of women’s hardship, reflections on Stalinism, and contrasts between opportunists and true servants of society.
Shostakovich and Yevtushenko offered not condemnation but critical engagement in a deeply humanistic vision. The 13th Symphony is a masterpiece of socialist realism.
