Boris Lyatoshynsky’s Symphony No. 3
Notes by TŌN violinist Carlos Torres
Borys Lyatoshynsky, who became the most renowned Ukrainian composer of the mid-20th century, combined late Romantic expressiveness with modernist dissonance and Ukrainian folk color. A student of Reinhold Glière at the Kyiv Conservatory and later a pedagogue in the same institution, he taught a whole generation of composers. Yet like his contemporaries Shostakovich and Prokofiev, Lyatoshynsky’s career unfolded under the scrutiny of Soviet authorities, who demanded optimism and “socialist realism” even in times of war and devastation.
His Third Symphony, originally subtitled “Peace Shall Defeat War”, was conceived as a grim commentary on the devastation of World War II. Following its 1951 premiere it was branded “bourgeois” and “defectible” by the official Soviet critics, and Lyatoshynsky was forced to rewrite the final movement and remove the subtitle. The performance nonetheless revealed a work of uncompromising tragedy: a turbulent first movement driven by snarling brass, pounding timpani, and searing string lines; a mournful Andante where plaintive woodwinds and muted strings sing folk-like melodies that swell into anguished climaxes; and a gruesome scherzo depicting violence and anarchy by shrill winds and snarling low brass, which transform a dance into a vision of chaos. Forced to revise the original finale, which concluded with the attainment of peace after the preceding conflict, Lyatoshynsky composed a new ending, which enabled the work’s official premiere in 1955 by the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra under the baton of Yevgeny Mravinsky. The revision ensured the symphony’s survival, and it was not until after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 that the first version could be performed again. Since then, as in today’s performance, the original version has been favored.
Alongside Shostakovich’s wartime symphonies, Lyatoshynsky’s Third betrays family and opposition. Like Shostakovich’s Eighth Symphony, Lyatoshynsky’s score succumbs to despair, driven by heavy orchestration and expressionist harmonies. Both employ grotesque scherzos and protracted laments to express war’s absurdity and tragedy. But while Shostakovich tended to return to irony and double meaning, Lyatoshynsky spoke in Romantic frankness and folk-infused lyricism. Shostakovich gradually diminishes tension and drama, guiding us into a hushed, transcendent world—not a public celebration but a private prayer—whereas Lyatoshynsky, in restraint, converted his tragedy into forced rejoicing.
And now the Third Symphony stands as witness to artistic survival: a deeply Ukrainian voice, tried and censored, but still ablaze with searing honesty regarding war, peace, and remembrance. Heard today, when Ukraine faces violence and aggression from its neighbor, Lyatoshynsky’s music resonates not only as a historical document but as a living reminder of a nation’s enduring struggle to affirm its cultural identity and its right to peace.