What I intended in my adaptation of "The Great Gate at Kiev" by Modest Mussorgsky was mostly to convey the visual images I personally interpret into the music. The piece was originally based on a plan for a monument in Kiev, but it was only a rough sketch (more like a blueprint than a work of art). The scene of the story is therefore my own creation. When I hear Mussorgsky's piece, I see the vast glory of a mighty walled city, as if I were approaching on a road. This splendor is audible in the triumphant recurring theme of the piece, but it grows more and more prominent as the movement progresses.
In my story, I put Katja in my shoes on that road. Her country upbringing makes for an awed impression of the city, which I hear in the theme of the piece. However glad she is to be going to such a magnificent place, unfortunately, she is still overshadowed by a sorrow - she is leaving the country. This sort of feeling is audible in the softer woodwind interludes of the piece, where the music softens and becomes reflective and slightly reluctant.
The story is meant to follow the song chronologically. The scene before the Kolkhoz family leaves the inn serves as an introduction; the moment Katja sets eyes on Kiev is when we hear the first cymbal crash and brass fanfare. The music builds as Katja takes in the city, and as the gate draws nearer.
As she looks about the village and notices the housewife sweeping, Katja is reminded of her mother. The music softens and slows, because Katja is still sad about leaving her happy country life with her parents. But the children bump Katja and return her gaze to the city, just as the triumphant theme bursts in upon the woodwind interlude.
As they leave the village, the steps of Katja, her Papa and the mule are audible in the music. So are the bells in Kiev, which begin to weave Katja's fantasy. A string run - a scale-like progression of notes in rapid succession - is Katja coming out of her daydream and realizing that she stands at the gate itself. A cymbal crashes and the theme reaches its most triumphant as Papa takes her hand and they enter the city.
The contrast between the theme and the woodwind interludes in the music correspond with the contrast between big city and small country village, memories of the past and dreams of the future, familiar home and the great unknown. Katja's father Piotr is in all ways a country farmer, down to his name; "kolkhoz" translates from Russian as "small farm." Katja, who I picture to be about sixteen, is half child, half woman; she is also a Kolkhoz, but has often dreamed of the splendor of city life. She is in the process of growing up, from her Papa's "little Katja" to her own person. Her personal transition coincides with her move to Kiev; the transformation is two-fold for her, and as the music indicates, it is a joyful change.
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