Like the violin concerto, Tschaikowsky’s great piano concerto in
B-flat minor went through a gruelling ordeal of abusive rebuffs and
setbacks before becoming established as one of the world’s most beloved
symphonic scores. In the case of the violin work, it was Leopold
Auer who first flouted it as unplayable, and then made it a popular
repertory standby. Nicholas Rubinstein is the name linked with the
early stages of the piano concerto. After excoriating the concerto in
its first state, Rubinstein grew to like it, humbly apologized for his
blunder, and made practical amends by playing it in public with huge
success.
Early in its composition we find Tschaikowsky writing to his brother
Anatol: “I am so completely absorbed in the composition of a piano
concerto. I am anxious that Rubinstein should play it at his concert.
The work proceeds very slowly and does not turn out well. However, I
stick to my intentions and hammer piano passages out of my brain; the
result is nervous irritability.” Begun in November, 1874, the concerto
was completed the following month. Rubinstein was then invited to
hear the work. Rubinstein and one or two musical colleagues gathered
in one of the classrooms of the Moscow Conservatory. Unluckily, the
great man was in a sombre mood that day. Tschaikowsky sat down and
played the first movement. No comment from Rubinstein. Then he played
the Andantino. Still no comment. Finally, Tschaikowsky ran through the
last movement. He turned around expectantly. Rubinstein said nothing.
Uneasily, Tschaikowsky asked him pointblank: “What do you think of
it?” And the storm broke. It was vulgar, cheap, pianistic, completely
valueless, retorted Rubinstein, who then stepped up to the piano and
began to burlesque the music.
“I left the room without saying a word and went upstairs,” writes
the distraught Tschaikowsky. “I could not have spoken for anger and
agitation. Presently Rubinstein came to me and, seeing how upset I
was, called me into another room. There he repeated that my concerto
was impossible, pointed out many places where it needed to be
completely revised, and said that if I would suit the concerto to his
requirements, he would bring it out at his concert.
“‘I shall not alter a single note,’ he replied. ‘I shall publish the
work precisely as it stands.’ This intention I actually carried out.”
Tschaikowsky did make some alterations in the score, however.
Tschaikowsky changed his mind about dedicating the score to Rubinstein,
conferring the honor on Hans Von Bülow, instead. Von Bülow played the
world première in Boston on October 25, 1875, and in a letter to the
Russian composer conveyed his enthusiasm for the work: “The ideas are
so original, so noble, so powerful; the details are so interesting,
and though there are many of them they do not impair the clearness
and the unity of the work. The form is so mature, ripe, distinguished
for style, for intention and labor are everywhere concealed. I should
weary you if I were to enumerate all the characteristics of your
work—characteristics which compel me to congratulate equally the
composer as well as all those who shall enjoy the work actively or
passively respectively.” Later Tschaikowsky, reading reports of how
Americans were acclaiming his concerto, wrote: “Think what healthy
appetites these Americans must have! Each time Bülow was obliged to
repeat the whole finale of my concerto! Nothing like this happens in
our own country.”
The concerto opens with a striking theme, _Allegro non troppo e molto
maestoso_, in D-flat major, 3-4, familiar to music-lovers of all tastes
the world over. The strings take it up after some brief preluding, and
it is then repeated, with rhythmic modification, by the solo piano.
There is a piano cadenza, and the theme comes back by way of the
strings, minus double-basses, against an ascending obbligato from the
piano. For reasons best known to himself, Tschaikowsky never allows
this imposing theme to return to the scene.
The “blind beggar tune” is the name often applied to the piano theme
serving as chief subject of the main section of the first movement
(_Allegro con spirito_, B-flat minor). Tschaikowsky heard it sung on a
street in Kamenko and he wrote to his patroness-friend, Mme. von Meck:
“It is curious that in Russia every blind beggar sings exactly the same
tune with the same refrain. I have used part of this refrain in my
piano concerto.” Horns and woodwind discourse the second subject (_Poco
meno mosso_, A-flat major) before the solo instrument turns to it.
The song-like first theme of the second movement (_Andantino semplice_,
D-flat major, 6-8) is given out first by the flute, with the oboe
and clarinets bringing in the second subject against a bassoon
accompaniment. The _Prestissimo_ middle section in F major, has the
spirit of a scherzo. A waltz enters the scheme by way of violas and
’cellos. Tschaikowsky’s brother, Modeste, insisted the theme of this
waltz derived from a French song the brothers Tschaikowsky used to sing
and whistle in their boyhood days.
The Rondo-like finale develops from three themes, the first of which,
a lively dance in Cossack style, is given out by the piano. A further
folk-like quality is observable in the second theme, and the violins
later chant the third of the finale’s themes. In the brisk Coda the
Cossack-like first theme is given the dominant role.