_Francesca da Rimini_, which bristles with difficulties, and
shrinks from no violence of effect. The gentlest and kindest of men
has let loose a whirlwind in this work, and shows as little pity
for his interpreters and hearers as Satan for sinners. But the
composer’s talent and astounding technique are so great that the
critic can only feel pleasure in the work. A long melodic phrase,
the love-song of Paola and Francesca, soars above this tempest,
this _bufera infernale_, which attracted Liszt before Tchaikovsky,
and engendered his Dante Symphony. Liszt’s Francesca is more
touching and more Italian in character than that of the great
Slavonic composer; the whole work is so typical that we seem to see
the profile of Dante projected in it. Tchaikovsky’s art is more
subtle, the outlines clearer, the material more attractive; from a
purely musical point of view the work is better. Liszt’s version is
perhaps more to the taste of the poet or painter. On the whole,
they can fitly stand side by side; either of them is worthy of
Dante, and as regards noise, both leave nothing to be
desired.”[191]
The concert was followed by a banquet in the hall of King’s College, at
which a hundred guests sat down to table. As it was purely a musical
festivity, only those who were to receive the honorary musical degree
were invited to this banquet. The place of honour, next to the chairman,
was given to Saint-Saëns, the eldest of the guests. Never had
Tchaikovsky greater reason to congratulate himself upon his comparative
youth, for, together with the honour, the difficult task of replying to
a toast on behalf of his colleagues fell to the lot of Saint-Saëns.
After the dinner came a brilliant reception to the composers in the hall
of the Museum.
Besides the musicians, there were several other recipients of the
honorary degree, including the Maharajah of Bohonager, Lord Herschel,
Lord Roberts, Dr. Julius Stupitza, Professor of English Philology in the
University of Berlin, and the Irish scholar, Standish O’Grady.
On the morning of June 13th all the future doctors assembled in the Arts
School and attired themselves in their splendid doctors’ robes of red
and white; after which they took up their positions, and the procession
started. Saint-Saëns, in the volume already quoted, says:
“We were attired in ample robes of silk, parti-coloured scarlet and
white, with full sleeves, and on our heads college-caps of black
velvet with gold tassels. Thus decked out, we walked in procession
through the town, under a tropical sun. At the head of the group of
doctors went the King of Bohonager in a turban of cloth of gold,
sparkling with fabulous jewels and a diamond necklace. Dare I
confess that, as the enemy of the commonplace, and of the neuter
tints of our modern garb, I was enchanted with the adventure?
“The people stood on each side of the railings, and cheered us with
some enthusiasm, especially Lord Roberts.”
“Meanwhile the Senate House, in which the degrees were conferred,
had become crowded with undergraduates and guests. The former were
not merely spectators, but--as we afterwards
discovered--participated in the event. When the Vice-Chancellor and
other members of the Senate had taken their places, the ceremony
began. Each recipient rises in turn from his seat, while the public
orator recounts his claims to recognition in a Latin oration. Here
the undergraduates begin to play their part. According to ancient
tradition, they are allowed to hiss, cheer, and make jokes at the
expense of the new doctors. At every joke the orator waits until
the noise and laughter has subsided, then continues to read aloud.
When this is done, the recipient is led up to the Vice-Chancellor,
who greets him as doctor in _nomine Patri, Filii et Spiritus
Sancti_. This formula was not used in the case of the Maharajah.”
The oration delivered in honour of Tchaikovsky ran as follows:--
“Russorum ex imperio immenso hodie ad nos delatus est viri
illustris, Rubinsteinii, discipulus insignis, qui neque Italiam
neque Helvetiam inexploratam reliquit, sed patriae carmina
popularia ante omnia dilexit. Ingenii Slavonici et ardorem fervidum
et languorem subtristem quam feliciter interpretatur! Musicorum
modorum in argumentis animo concipiendis quam amplus est! in
numeris modulandis quam distinctus! in flexionibus variandis quam
subtilis! in orchestrae (ut aiunt) partibus inter se diversis una
componendis quam splendidus! Talium virorum animo grato admiramur
ingenium illud facile et promptum, quod, velut ipsa rerum natura,
nulla, necessitate coactum sed quasi sua sponte pulcherrimum
quidque in luminis oras quotannis submittit.
“Audiamus Propertium:
“‘aspice quot submittit humus formosa colores;
et veniunt hederae sponte sua melius.’
“Etiam nosmet ipsi hodie fronti tam felici hederae nostrae corollam
sponte imponimus.
“Duco ad vos Petrum Tchaikovsky.”
After the ceremony there was a breakfast given by the Vice-Chancellor,
at which all attended in their robes. At the end of the meal, in
obedience to the tradition of centuries, a loving-cup was passed round.
The breakfast was followed by a garden-party, the hostess being the wife
of the Vice-Chancellor.
By evening Tchaikovsky was back in London, where he gave a farewell
dinner to some of his new friends. Among these I must mention the fine
baritone, Eugene Oudin. Tchaikovsky was soon very sincerely attached to
him, both as a man and an artist. Upon his initiative Oudin was invited
to sing at the Symphony Concerts in Moscow and Petersburg.
The following day Tchaikovsky left for Paris.
_To P. Jurgenson._
“PARIS, _June_ 3_rd_ (15_th_), 1893.
“Cambridge, with its peculiar customs which retain much that is
medieval, with its colleges that resemble monasteries, and its
buildings recalling a remote past, made a very agreeable impression
upon me.”
_To N. Konradi._
“PARIS, _June_ 3_rd_ (15_th_), 1893.
“At Cambridge I stayed with Professor Maitland. This would have
been dreadfully embarrassing for me, if he and his wife had not
proved to be some of the most charming people I ever met; and
Russophiles into the bargain, which is the greatest rarity in
England. Now all is over, it is pleasant to look back upon my
visit to England, and to remember the extraordinary cordiality
shown to me everywhere, although, in consequence of my peculiar
temperament, while there, I tormented and worried myself to
fiddle-strings.”
XVIII
Tchaikovsky’s home-coming was by no means joyful. The shadow of
death was all around him. Hardly had he heard of the death of his
old friend Karl Albrecht than a letter from the Countess
Vassiliev-Shilovsky informed him that her husband had passed away.
Besides this, Apukhtin lay dying in Petersburg, and in Moscow
another valued friend, Zvierev, was in an equally hopeless
condition.
A few years earlier one such grief would have affected Tchaikovsky
more keenly than all of them taken together seemed to do at this
juncture. Now death appeared to him less enigmatical and fearful.
Whether his feelings were less acute, or whether the mental
sufferings of later years had taught him that death was often a
deliverance, I cannot say. I merely lay emphasis on the fact that,
in spite of the discomforting news which met him in all directions,
from the time of his return from England to the end of his life,
Tchaikovsky was as serene and cheerful as at any period in his
existence.
He looked forward with joy to meeting his nephew Vladimir Davidov
at Grankino, in the government of Poltava. He always felt well in
the glorious air of the steppes.
From Grankino he went to stay with his brother Nicholas at
Oukolovo.
_To Vladimir Davidov._
“_July_ 19_th_ (31_st_), 1893.
“I spent two very pleasant days in Moscow. Tell Modi I was very ill
the day after he left. They said it was from drinking too much cold
water at dinner and supper.... The day after to-morrow I start upon
the Symphony again. I must write letters for the next two days.”
_To Modeste Tchaikovsky._
“_July_ 22_nd_ (_August_ 3_rd_), 1893.
“I am up to my eyes in the Symphony. The further I go, the more
difficult the orchestration becomes. Twenty years ago I should have
rushed it through without a second thought, and it would have
turned out all right. Now I am turning coward, and have lost my
self-confidence. I have been sitting all day over two pages, yet
they will not come out as I wish. In spite of this, the work makes
progress, and I should not have done so much anywhere else but at
home.
“Thanks to Alexis’ exertions, my house has a very coquettish
appearance. All is in order; a mass of flowers in the garden, good
paths, and a new fence with gates. I am well cared for. And yet I
get terribly bored unless I am working....”
_To Vladimir Davidov._
“_August_ 3_rd_ (15_th_), 1893.
“The Symphony which I intended to dedicate to you--although I have
now changed my mind[192]--is progressing. I am very well pleased
with its contents, but not quite so satisfied with the
orchestration. It does not realise my dreams. To me, it will seem
quite natural, and not in the least astonishing, if this Symphony
meets with abuse, or scant appreciation at first. I certainly
regard it as quite the best--and especially the ‘most sincere’--of
all my works. I love it as I never loved any one of my musical
offspring before.”
_To P. Jurgenson._
“KLIN, _August_ 12_th_ (24_th_), 1893.
“DEAR FRIEND,--I have finished the orchestration of the new
Symphony.... I have made the arrangement for four hands myself, and
must play it through, so I have asked the youngest Konius to come
here, that we may try it together. As regards the score and parts,
I cannot put them in order before the first performance, which
takes place in Petersburg on October 16th (28th).... On my word of
honour, I have never felt such self-satisfaction, such pride, such
happiness, as in the consciousness that I am really the creator of
this beautiful work.”
_To the same._
“KLIN, _August_ 20_th_ (_September_ 1_st_), 1893.
“I shall take the Symphony with me to Petersburg to-day. I promise
not to give away the score. The arrangement for four hands needs a
thorough revision. I have entrusted this to Leo Konius. I wished
him to receive a fee of at least 100 roubles, but he refused....”
Tchaikovsky spent two days with Laroche in Petersburg. Even the prospect
of his journey to Hamburg did not suffice to damp his cheerful frame of
mind. He does not appear to have written any letters during his absence
from Russia, which was of very brief duration.
“On his return from Hamburg he met me in St. Petersburg,” says
Modeste, “and stayed with me a day or two. I had not seen him so
bright for a long time past. He was keenly interested in the
forthcoming season of the Musical Society, and was preparing the
programme of the fourth concert, which he was to conduct.
“At this time there was a change in the circumstances of my own
life. Having finished the education of N. Konradi, I decided to set
up housekeeping with my nephew Vladimir Davidov, who had completed
his course at the School of Jurisprudence and was now an
independent man. My brother was naturally very much interested in
all the arrangements of our new home.
“At this time we discussed subjects for a new opera. Peter Ilich’s
favourite author in later life was George Eliot. Once during his
travels abroad he had come across her finest book, _The Mill on the
Floss_, and from that time he considered she had no rival but
Tolstoi as a writer of fiction. _Adam Bede_, _Silas Marner_, and
_Middlemarch_ stirred him to the greatest enthusiasm, and he read
them over and over again. He cared less for _Romola_, but was
particularly fond of _Scenes from Clerical Life_. For a time he
seriously contemplated founding the libretto of his next opera upon
_The Sad Fortunes of the Rev. Amos Barton_. He wished me to read
the tale and give him my opinion: I must confess that, from his own
account of it, I persuaded him to give up the idea.
“I do not know if I actually convinced him, or whether he lost
interest in it himself, but he never referred to this tale again
when he spoke of other subjects for a libretto.
“We separated early in September, and he went to our brother
Anatol, who was spending the summer and autumn with his family at
Mikhailovskoe.”
Here he enjoyed a very happy visit. “It is indescribably beautiful,” he
wrote to Modeste. “It is altogether pleasant and successful. The weather
is wonderful. All day long I wander in the forest and bring home
quantities of mushrooms.”
His high opinion of the new Symphony was still unchanged, for he wrote
to the Grand Duke Constantine Constantinovich on September 21st (October
3rd), “Without exaggeration I have put my whole soul into this work.”
Yet in spite of his cheerful attitude, a momentary cloud of depression
passed over him at this time. Writing to Modeste from Moscow, a few days
later, he says: “Just lately I have been dreadfully bored and
misanthropical. 1 do not know why. I sit in my room and see no one but
the waiter. I long for home, work, and my normal existence.”
On September 25th he returned to Klin for the last time.
_To Anna Merkling._
“_September_ 29_th_ (_October_ 11_th_), 1893.
“I am now very busy with the orchestration of the Pianoforte
Concerto. I shall soon appear on the banks of the Neva. You will
see me about the 10th.”
On October 7th (19th) Tchaikovsky left Klin never to return. The
following day he intended to be present at the memorial service for his
friend Zvierev and then to go on to Petersburg. As the train passed the
village of Frolovskoe, he pointed to the churchyard, remarking to his
fellow-travellers: “I shall be buried there, and people will point out
my grave as they go by.” He repeated this wish to be buried at
Frolovskoe while talking to Taneiev at the memorial service for Zvierev.
Beyond these two references to his death, prompted no doubt by the sad
ceremony with which he was preoccupied, Tchaikovsky does not appear to
have shown any symptoms of depression or foreboding.
Kashkin has given the following account of his friend’s last visit to
Moscow:--
“We met at the memorial service in the church, and afterwards Peter
Ilich went to Zvierev’s grave. On October 9th (21st) he had
promised to go to the Conservatoire to hear the vocal quartet
(‘Night’) which he had arranged from Mozart’s pianoforte Fantasia.
The master’s music had not been altered, Tchaikovsky had only
written words to it.... Madame Lavrovsky had promised that her
pupils should learn the work. We assembled in the concert hall of
the Conservatoire, and I sat with Tchaikovsky. The quartet was
beautifully sung ... Tchaikovsky afterwards told me this music had
the most indescribable charm for him, but he could not explain,
even to himself, why this simple melody gave him such pleasure....
“At that time Pollini, the Director of the Hamburg Opera, was
staying in Moscow. He was an ardent admirer of Tchaikovsky, and had
given some of his operas in Hamburg. When--as invited--I went to
supper with Tchaikovsky at the Moscow Restaurant, I met Pollini,
Safonov, and two foreign guests. We talked over Pollini’s idea of
making a great concert tour through Russia, with a German orchestra
under a Russian conductor ... Tchaikovsky was to conduct his own
works and Safonov the rest of the programme.... After the others
had gone, and Peter Ilich and I were left to ourselves, he told me
all about Cambridge, and spoke very warmly of the Professor in
whose house he had stayed, and of one of the other recipients of
the honorary degree--Arrigo Boïto, who had charmed him with his
intellect and culture.... Unconsciously the talk turned to our
recent losses: to the death of Albrecht and Zvierev. We thought of
the gaps time had made in our circle of old friends and how few now
remained. Involuntarily the question arose: Who will be the next to
take the road from which there is no return? With complete
assurance of its truth, I declared that Tchaikovsky would outlive
us all. He disputed the probability, but ended by saying he had
never felt better or happier in his life. He had to catch the night
mail to Petersburg, where he was going to conduct his Sixth
Symphony, which was still unknown to me. He said he had no doubt as
to the first three movements, but the last was still a problem, and
perhaps after the performance in Petersburg he should destroy the
Finale and replace it by another. The concert of the Musical
Society in Moscow was fixed for October 23rd (November 4th). We
arranged, if we should not see each other there, to meet at the
Moscow Restaurant, for Tchaikovsky was anxious to introduce the
singer Eugene Oudin to the musical circle in Moscow. Here our
conversation ended. Tchaikovsky went to the station. It never
occurred to me to see him off, for neither of us cared for that
kind of thing; besides, we should meet again in a fortnight. We
parted without the least presentiment that it was for the last
time.”
XIX
Tchaikovsky arrived in Petersburg on October 10th (22nd). He was met by
his brother Modeste and his favourite nephew. He was delighted with
their new abode and his spirits were excellent--so long as his arrival
remained unknown and he was master of his time.
One thing only depressed him: at the rehearsals the Sixth Symphony made
no impression upon the orchestra. He always set store by the opinion of
the musicians. Moreover, he feared lest the interpretation of the
Symphony might suffer from their coldness. Tchaikovsky only conducted
his works well when he knew they appealed to the players. To obtain
delicate _nuances_ and a good balance of tone he needed his surroundings
to be sympathetic and appreciative. A look of indifference, a coolness
on the part of any of the band, seemed to paralyse him; he lost his
head, went through the work perfunctorily, and cut the rehearsal as
short as possible, so as to release the musicians from a wearisome task.
Whenever he conducted a work of his own for the first time, a kind of
uncertainty--almost carelessness--in the execution of details was
apparent, and the whole interpretation lacked force and definite
expression. The Fifth Symphony and _Hamlet_ were so long making their
way merely because the composer had failed to make them effective. The
same reason accounts for the failure of the orchestral ballade, _The
Voyevode_.
Tchaikovsky was easily disenchanted with his work by the adverse opinion
of others. But on this occasion his judgment remained unshaken, and even
the indifference of the orchestra did not alter his opinion that this
Symphony was “the best thing I ever composed or ever shall compose.” He
did not, however, succeed in convincing the public or the performers. At
the concert on the 16th (28th) the work fell rather flat. It was
applauded and the composer was recalled; but the enthusiasm did not
surpass what was usually shown for one of Tchaikovsky’s new works. The
Symphony produced nothing approaching to that powerful and thrilling
impression it made shortly afterwards (November 6th (18th), 1893) under
Napravnik, which has since been repeated in so many other cities.
The Press did not speak of the new Symphony with as much admiration as
Tchaikovsky had expected, but on the whole the notices were
appreciative. The _St. Petersburg Viedomosti_ thought “the thematic
material of the work was not very original, the leading subjects were
neither new nor significant. The last movement, Adagio Lamentoso, was
the best.” The _Syn Otechestva_ discovered a phrase in the first
movement which recalled Gounod’s _Romeo and Juliet_, while Grieg was
reflected in the Finale. The _Novoe Vremya_ said: “The new Symphony is
evidently the outcome of a journey abroad; it contains much that is
clever and resourceful as regards orchestral colour, besides grace and
delicacy (in the two middle movements), but _as far as inspiration is
concerned it stands far below Tchaikovsky’s other Symphonies_. Only one
newspaper, _The Birjevya Viedomosti_, spoke of the work in terms of
unqualified praise, while finding fault with the composer’s conducting
of the work.
The morning after the concert I found my brother sitting at the
breakfast-table with the score of the Symphony before him. He had agreed
to send it to Jurgenson in Moscow that very day, and could not decide
upon a title. He did not wish to designate it merely by a number, and
had abandoned his original intention of calling it “a programme
Symphony.” “Why programme,” he said, “since I do not intend to expound
any meaning?” I suggested “tragic Symphony” as an appropriate title. But
this did not please him either. I left the room while Peter Ilich was
still in a state of indecision. Suddenly the word “pathetic” occurred
to me, and I returned to suggest it. I remember, as though it were
yesterday, how my brother exclaimed: “Bravo, Modeste, splendid!
_Pathetic!_” Then and there, in my presence, he added to the score the
title by which the Symphony has always been known.[193]
I do not relate this incident in order to connect my name with this
work. Probably I should never have mentioned it but for the fact that it
serves to illustrate in a simple way how far the conjectures of the most
enlightened commentators may wander from the truth.
Hugo Riemann, in his thematic analysis of the Sixth Symphony, sees the
solution of this title in “the striking resemblance between the
fundamental idea of this work and the chief subject of Beethoven’s
_Sonata Pathétique_,” of which Tchaikovsky never dreamed:
[Music:
_Tchaikovsky._
_Beethoven._]
[Illustration: musical notation]
After having despatched the score to Moscow with this title, Tchaikovsky
changed his mind, as may be seen from the following letter to
Jurgenson:--
“_October_ 18_th_, 1893.
“Be so kind as to put on the title page what stands below.
_To Vladimir Lvovich
Davidov_
(No. 6)
_Composed by_ P. T.
“I hope it is not too late.
“It is very strange about this Symphony. It was not exactly a
failure, but was received with some hesitation. As far as I am
concerned, I am prouder of it than of any of my previous works.
However, we can soon talk it over together, for I shall be in
Moscow on Saturday.”
At this time he talked a great deal about the remodelling of _The
Oprichnik_ and _The Maid of Orleans_, which he had in view for the
immediate future. He did not confide to me his intentions as to the
former opera; but as regards _The Maid of Orleans_, we discussed the
alteration of the last scene, and I made a point of his arranging this,
like so many other parts of the opera, from Schiller’s poem. The idea
seemed to interest him, but it was not permitted to him to come to a
definite conclusion on the subject.
During these last days he was neither very cheerful, nor yet depressed.
In the circle of his intimate friends he was contented and jovial; among
strangers he was, as usual, nervous and excited and, as time went on,
tired out and dull. But nothing gave the smallest hint of his
approaching end.
On Tuesday, October 19th (31st), he went to a private performance of
Rubinstein’s _The Maccabees_. On the 20th (November 1st) he was still in
good health and dined with his old friend Vera Boutakov (_née_ Davidov).
Afterwards he went to see Ostrovsky’s play, _A Warm Heart_, at the
Alexander Theatre. During the interval he went with me to see the actor
Varlamov in his dressing-room. The conversation turned upon
spiritualism. Varlamov described in his own humorous style--which cannot
be transferred to paper--his loathing for “all those abominations” which
reminded one of death. Peter Ilich laughed at Varlamov’s quaint way of
expressing himself.
“There is plenty of time,” said Tchaikovsky, “before we need reckon with
this snub-nosed horror; it will not come to snatch us off just yet! I
feel I shall live a long time.” From the theatre, Tchaikovsky went with
his nephews, Count Litke and Baron Buxhövden, to the Restaurant Leiner.
I joined them an hour later, and found one or two other visitors--of
whom Glazounov was one. They had already had their supper, and I was
afterwards told my brother had eaten macaroni and drunk, as usual, white
wine and soda water. We went home about two a.m. Peter Ilich was
perfectly well and serene.
On the morning of Thursday, October 21st (November 2nd), Tchaikovsky did
not appear as usual at the early breakfast-table. His brother went to
his room and found him slightly indisposed. He complained of his
digestion being upset and of a bad night. About eleven a.m. he dressed
and went out to see Napravnik. Half an hour later he returned, still
feeling unwell. He absolutely declined to send for a doctor. His
condition gave no anxiety to Modeste, who had often seen him suffer from
similar derangements.
He joined his brother and nephew at lunch, although he ate nothing. But
this was probably the fatal moment in his indisposition for, while
talking, he poured out a glass of water and drank a long draught. The
water had not been boiled, and they were dismayed at his imprudence. But
he was not in the least alarmed, and tried to calm their fears. He
dreaded cholera less than any other illness. After this his condition
grew worse; but he attributed all his discomfort to a copious dose of
Hunyadi which he had taken earlier in the day, and still declined to
send for his favourite doctor, Bertenson. Towards evening Modeste grew
so anxious that he sent for the doctor on his own account. Meanwhile
Tchaikovsky was tended by his brother’s servant Nazar, who had once
travelled with him to Italy.
About eight p.m. Bertenson arrived. He saw at once that the illness was
serious, and sent for his brother in consultation. The sufferer had
grown very weak, and complained of terrible oppression on his chest.
More than once he said, “I believe this is death.”
After a short consultation the brothers Bertenson, the two leading
physicians in Petersburg, pronounced it to be a case of cholera.
All night long those who nursed him in turn fought against the cramps;
towards morning with some hope of success. His courage was wonderful,
and in the intervals between the paroxysms of pain he made little jokes
with those around him. He constantly begged his nurses to take some
rest, and was grateful for the smallest service.
On Friday his condition seemed more hopeful, and he himself believed he
had been “snatched from the jaws of death.” But on the following day his
mental depression returned. “Leave me,” he said to his doctors, “you can
do no good. I shall never recover.”
Gradually he passed into the second stage of the cholera, with its most
dangerous symptom--complete inactivity of the kidneys. He slept more,
but his sleep was restless, and sometimes he wandered in his mind. At
these times he continually repeated the name of Nadejda Filaretovna von
Meck in an indignant, or reproachful, tone. Consciousness returned at
longer intervals, and when his servant Alexis arrived from Klin he was
no longer able to recognise him. A warm bath was tried as a last
resource, but without avail, and soon afterwards his pulse grew so weak
that the end seemed imminent. At the desire of his brother Nicholas, a
priest was sent for from the Isaac Cathedral. He did not administer the
sacrament, as Tchaikovsky was now quite unconscious, but prayed in clear
and distinct tones, which, however, did not seem to reach the ears of
the dying man.
At three o’clock on the morning of October 25th (November 6th)
Tchaikovsky passed away in the presence of his brothers Nicholas and
Modeste, his nephews Litke, Buxhövden, and Vladimir Davidov, the three
doctors, and his faithful servant Alexis Safronov. At the last moment
an indescribable look of clear recognition lit up his face--a gleam
which only died away with his last breath.
* * * * *
My work is finished. With this account of Tchaikovsky’s last moments my
task, which was to express the man, is accomplished.
To characterise the artist in every phase of his development, and to
determine his position in the history of music, is beyond my powers. If
all the documental and authentic evidence I have collected in this book
should serve as fundamental material for another writer capable of
fulfilling such a task, the most cherished aim of all my efforts will
have been attained.
MODESTE TCHAIKOVSKY
ROME, 1902
APPENDIX A
CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF TCHAIKOVSKY’S COMPOSITIONS FROM 1866-1893
FIRST SEASON, 1866-1867
1. Op. 15. Festival Overture upon the Danish National Hymn; completed
October, 1866. Published by Jurgenson.
2. Op. 13. Symphony in G minor, No. 1, “Winter Dreams.” Begun in March,
completed in November, 1866. Jurgenson.
3. Op. 1. Russian Scherzo and Impromptu. Composed early in 1867. The
first of these compositions was originally entitled “Capriccio.” It is
based on the first theme of the Andante in the quartet in B major, which
Tchaikovsky composed while still at the Conservatoire in 1865. The theme
itself is a Malo-Russian folksong, heard at Kamenka. The Impromptu--a
still earlier work--was never intended for publication. It chanced to be
in the same manuscript-book as the Capriccio, which was given to
Jurgenson by Rubinstein, without any intimation that the Impromptu was
not to be published. The Russian Scherzo was performed at Rubinstein’s
concert in 1867. Both these works--like the _First Symphony_--were
dedicated to Nicholas Rubinstein, and published by Jurgenson.
4. Op. 2. _Souvenir de Hapsal_--three pianoforte pieces: (_a_) “The
Ruin,” (_b_) “Scherzo,” (_c_) “Chant sans Paroles.” June and July, 1867.
Hapsal. Only the first and third of these pieces were composed at
Hapsal; the second dates back to the days of the Conservatoire. This
_opus_ number is dedicated to Vera Davidov. Jurgenson. Besides these
works, Tchaikovsky was engaged from the beginning of 1867 upon his
opera, _The Voyevode_.
1867-1868
_The Voyevode_ was the sole work of this season.
In a letter dated November 25th (December 7th) Tchaikovsky speaks of
having completed the third act, which is as good as saying that he had
finished the whole opera, because he rarely broke through his custom of
working straight through a composition. The instrumentation remained,
and this was finished in Paris during the summer.
_The Voyevode_, or _A Dream on the Volga_, is a play in five acts, with
a prologue, by A. N. Ostrovsky. The opera libretto is condensed into
three acts, the prologue being omitted.
The chief beauty of the play, the scenes from national life, so
charmingly depicted by Ostrovsky, had been ruthlessly cut out of the
libretto, and only an insipid and uninteresting story left. The charm of
national colour, the characteristic details of the secondary _dramatis
personæ_, such as Nedviga, the apparition of the Domovoi, or “house
spirit,” the gloomy figure of Mizgir--of all these things the libretto
had been completely denuded.
But it was not so much Ostrovsky as Tchaikovsky who was to blame, for it
is evident from the manuscript which the latter used while composing the
music that he eliminated every episode which did not bear directly upon
the tale. A few years later Tchaikovsky would not have missed so many
good opportunities of effective musical illustration.
Ostrovsky’s collaboration was practically limited to Act I., which is
also the best, and to a portion of Act II. The remainder is almost
entirely of Tchaikovsky’s own writing.
Of this opera only the “Dances of the Serving Maids” and the “Entr’acte”
were published as Op. 3. Jurgenson. The rest of the score was destroyed
by the composer during the seventies. The orchestral and choral parts
and some of the solos--unfortunately not the principal ones--are still
preserved in the library of the Imperial Opera House in Moscow.
1868-1869
1. Op. 77. Symphonic Poem, _Fatum_. Begun about the middle of September,
1868. Sketch completed on October 21st. (November 2nd). Orchestrated in
November and December. Produced for the first time by the Musical
Society in Moscow, February 25th (March 9th), 1869, conducted by N.
Rubinstein. This work is dedicated to M. A. Balakirev. During the
seventies Tchaikovsky destroyed the score, but the orchestral parts
remained intact, and the work was reconstructed from these, and
published in 1896, by Belaiev, in Leipzig.
2. Op. 4. Valse Caprice for pianoforte. Composed in October, 1868.
Dedicated to Anton Door. Jurgenson.
3. Op. 5. Romance for pianoforte. November, 1868. Dedicated to Désirée
Artôt. Jurgenson.
4. Twenty-five Russian folksongs, arranged for pianoforte, four hands.
These were probably finished during the autumn months, and printed in
November, 1868.
5. Recitatives and choruses for _Le Domino Noir_, by Auber. This work
has entirely disappeared; it cannot be found in the library of the
Petersburg or Moscow Opera.
6. _Undine_, an opera in three acts, begun in January and completed in
July, 1869. The text by Count Sollogoub.
The libretto of _Undine_ contained scenes more interesting and grateful
for musical treatment than _The Voyevode_, but was so unskilfully put
together and so lacking in logical sequence that it is even inferior to
the dry, uninteresting, but literary verse of the latter. The
music--judging from the fragments that have been preserved--seems to
have possessed a certain vitality.
The composer destroyed the score of _Undine_ in 1873. All that remains
of the music is Undine’s aria, “The spring is my brother,” which was
afterwards utilised in _Sniegourochka_, and the Wedding March in the
last act, which Tchaikovsky employed in the Andantino Marziale of his
Second Symphony. Besides these two fragments, Kashkin says an Adagio in
the ballet, “The Swan Lake,” was originally the love-duet between
Gulbrand and Undine.
Part of this opera was produced at a concert given by the Capellmeister
Merten, March 16th (28th), 1870. Laroche wrote:--
“Unfortunately, I was not able to attend the concert itself, but I
had heard these fragments from _Undine_ at the rehearsals, and
observed not only the careful and delicate orchestration for which
Tchaikovsky’s music is remarkable, but picturesque suggestions of
the fantastic realms of the water sprites. Other parts--notably the
finale--appeared to me lacking in spontaneity. On the whole,
however, the new score is worthy of attention.”
1869-1870
1. Twenty-five Russian folksongs, arranged for pianoforte, four hands.
Completed September 25th, 1869. Published, together with the twenty-five
of the previous year, by Jurgenson, Moscow.
2. _Romeo and Juliet._ Overture-Fantasia for orchestra, founded on
Shakespeare’s tragedy. Begun September 25th (October 7th); sketch
completed by October 7th (19th), and orchestrated by November 15th
(27th), 1869. During the summer of 1870 the work was completely revised.
According to Kashkin, the Introduction was entirely new; the funeral
march at the close of the work was omitted and a fresh ending
substituted for it, while many alterations were made in the
orchestration as a whole. The overture is dedicated to Mily
Alexandrovich Balakirev, and was performed for the first time at Moscow,
under the bâton of N. Rubinstein, March 4th (16th), 1870. Published by
Bote and Bock, Berlin, 1871.
3. Pianoforte arrangement for four hands of the overture _Ivan the
Terrible_, by Anton Rubinstein. Bessel, St. Petersburg.
4. Op. 6. Six songs.[194] Written between November 15th (27th) and
December 19th (31st), 1869. (1) “Glaub’ nicht mein Freund,” words by
Count A. Tolstoi, dedicated to A. G. Menshikov. (2) “Nicht Worte,” words
by Plestcheiev, dedicated to N. Kashkin. (3) “Wie wehe, wie süss,” words
by Countess Rostopchin, dedicated to A. D. Kochetov. (4) “Die Thräne
bebt,” words by Count A. Tolstoi, dedicated to P. Jurgenson. (5)
“Warum,” words by Mey, dedicated to I. Klimenko. (6) “Nur wer die
Sehnsucht kennt,” words by Mey (from Goethe), dedicated to Madame
Khvostova. P. Jurgenson, Moscow.
5. “Chorus of Insects,” from the unfinished opera _Mandragora_, January
13th (25th), 1870. The score of this work has been entirely lost. The
pianoforte arrangement is preserved by Jurgenson. In 1898 Glazounov
orchestrated it.
6. Op. 7. Valse Scherzo (A major) for pianoforte, dedicated to Alexandra
Ilinichna Davidov. P. Jurgenson.
7. Op. 8. Capriccio (G flat) for piano, dedicated to K. Klindworth. P.
Jurgenson. Both these pieces were completed about February 3rd (15th),
1870.
Besides the above, Tchaikovsky began his opera, _The Oprichnik_, about
the end of January, 1870.
1870-1871
1. Op. 9. Three pianoforte pieces, (1) “Rêverie,” dedicated to N.
Murometz. (2) “Polka de Salon,” dedicated to A. Zograf. (3) “Mazurka de
Salon,” dedicated to A. L. Dubuque.
2. Song, “So schnell vergessen,” words by Apukhtin. This and the above
works were composed before October 26th (November 7th), 1870, and
published by Jurgenson, Moscow.
3. “Nature and Love.” Trio for two sopranos and one contralto, with
chorus and pianoforte accompaniment; dedicated to Madame Valzek. It was
composed in December expressly for this lady’s pupils, and performed for
the first time at Tchaikovsky’s concert on March 16th (28th), 1871. It
was published by Jurgenson after the composer’s death.
4. Op. 11. Quartet No. 1 (D major), for two violins, viola, and
violoncello. Dedicated to Serge Rachinsky. Composed during February,
1871, and first performed at the composer’s concert, March 16th (28th),
1871. The Andante of this quartet is based on a Russian folksong which
Tchaikovsky wrote down at Kamenka in the summer of 1869. It was sung in
Great Russian by a man who was working outside the room in which he was
engaged in orchestrating his _Undine_.
5. A Course of Harmony, completed during the summer at Nizy. Jurgenson.
Besides the above, Tchaikovsky was working during the whole of this
period on his opera, _The Oprichnik_.
1871-1872
1. Op. 10. Two pianoforte pieces: “Nocturne” and “Humoresque.” Probably
composed in December, 1871, during his stay at Nice. Part of the second
piece consists of a French popular song. These pieces are both dedicated
to Vladimir Shilovsky.
2. Cantata for chorus, orchestra, and tenor solo. Text by Polonsky.
Composed during February and March, 1872. Performed May 31st (June
12th), 1872, under the conductorship of K. Davidov. The manuscript of
the score is in the library of the Imperial Opera House, Moscow.
3. _The Oprichnik_, an opera in four acts. Begun at the end of January,
1870, completed in April, 1872. Dedicated to His Imperial Highness the
Grand Duke Constantine Nicholaevich. Published by Bessel, St.
Petersburg.
Without entering into a detailed criticism of Lajetnikov’s tragedy, I
must call attention to some of its features which are calculated to make
it an easy subject for the librettist to handle; these special features
lie in its admirable plot. The interest of the love-intrigue, which is
well sustained, a whole series of effective situations, the dark yet
poetic colouring of its sinister period (Ivan the Terrible), the variety
of episodes well suited to musical illustration (such as the love-duet
in the first act, the scenes with the populace, the picturesque figures
of the Oprichniks, the pathos of the oath scene, “The Terrible” himself,
and the death of Andrew), all contribute to make an effective and moving
opera.
But it did not fulfil these expectations. The most serious hindrance
came from the Censor. The striking figure of Ivan the Terrible, which
seemed so well adapted to musical representation, was not permitted to
appear. For an outline of the plot of this opera, see Appendix B.
1872-1873
1. Op. 17. Symphony No. 2 (C minor), composed during June, July, and
August, 1872. Orchestrated in September and October of the same year,
and completed early in November. Dedicated to the Moscow section of the
Imperial Russian Musical Society. First performed, under N. Rubinstein,
in Moscow, January 26th (February 7th), 1873. Published by V. Bessel,
St. Petersburg. The second movement, Andantino Marziale, is taken from
the opera _Undine_. Speaking of this work, Kashkin says, “It may be
called ‘The Little Russian’ Symphony, because its chief themes are
Little Russian folksongs.”[195] Later on the composer made considerable
alterations, and entirely rewrote the first movement.
2. Op. 16. Six songs, (1) “Wiegenlied,” words by Maikov, dedicated to
Frau N. N. Rimsky-Korsakov. (2) “Warte noch,” words by Grekov, dedicated
to N. A. Rimsky-Korsakov. (3) “Erfass nur einmal,” words by Maikov,
dedicated to G. A. Laroche. (4) “Oh, möchtest du einmal noch singen,”
words by Plestcheiev, dedicated to N. A. Hubert. (5) “Was nun?” Words by
the composer, dedicated to N. Rubinstein. (6) “Neugrie-chisches Lied,”
words by Maikov, dedicated to K. Albrecht. The precise date of these
songs is not known. Probably they were written in December, 1872.
Published by V. Bessel, St. Petersburg.
3. Op. 12. Music to _Sniegourochka, a Legend of Springtide_, by A. N.
Ostrovsky. Composed during March and April, 1873. First performed at the
Opera, Moscow, May 11th (23rd), 1873. Jurgenson, Moscow. One or two
numbers of this work are transferred from _Undine_.
4. “Perpetuum mobile,” from a sonata by Weber, arranged for the left
hand only. Dedicated to Madame Zograf. Published 1873, by Jurgenson.
Besides the above, Tchaikovsky worked at the symphonic fantasia, _The
Tempest_, between August 7th-17th (19th-29th), 1873.
His literary work comprised seventeen articles, in which he reviewed the
chief musical events of the season in Moscow.
1873-1874
1. Op. 18. _The Tempest_, symphonic fantasia for full orchestra upon a
Shakespearean programme. Composed between 7th (19th) and 17th (29th)
August, 1873; orchestrated by October 10th (22nd). Dedicated to Vladimir
Vassilievich Stassov. First performed December 7th (19th), 1873, under
N. Rubinstein. Jurgenson.
2. Op. 21. Six pianoforte pieces upon a theme. (1) Prelude, (2) Fugue,
(3) Impromptu, (4) Funeral March, (5) Mazurka, (6) Scherzo. Dedicated to
Anton Rubinstein. Composed before October 30th (November 11th), 1873.
Bessel.
3. Op. 22. Quartet No. 2 (F major), for two violins, viola, and
violoncello. Dedicated to the Grand Duke Constantine. Commenced at the
end of December, 1873, or early in January, 1874, and finished by the
26th of that month. Shortly afterwards it was played at a musical
evening at N. Rubinstein’s, and probably Tchaikovsky afterwards made
some changes in it, as he was still engaged upon the work in the middle
of February. First public performance March 10th (22nd), 1874.
Jurgenson.
4. Op. 14. _Vakoula the Smith_ (Kouznetz Vakoula, known also as
_Cherevichek_ and _Les Caprices d’Oxane_), opera in three acts and seven
scenes. The libretto is taken from a tale by Gogol and set to verse by
J. Polonsky. Dedicated to the memory of the Grand Duchess Helena.
Composed and orchestrated during the summer of 1874. Partially
remodelled about 1885. Published by Jurgenson.
1874-1875
1. Op. 25. Six songs: (1) “Herz, o lass dich von Schlummer umfangen,”
words by Scherbin, dedicated to A. P. Kroutikov. (2) “Wie hier die
Schrift in Aschengluth,” words by Tioutchev, dedicated to D. Orlov. (3)
“Mignon’s Lied,” words by Goethe, dedicated to M. Kamenskaya. (4) “Der
Kanarienvogel,” words by Mey, dedicated to V. Raab. (5) “Mit ihr ein
Wort gesprochen hab’ ich nie,” words by Mey, dedicated to I. Melnikov.
(6) “Einst zum Narren Jemand spricht,” words by Mey. These songs were
probably composed in September, 1874. Published by V. Bessel.
2. Op. 19. Six pianoforte pieces: (1) “Rêverie,” dedicated to N. D.
Kondratiev. (2) “Scherzo-humoristique,” dedicated to Vera Timanov. (3)
“Feuillet d’album,” dedicated to A. Abramov, (4) “Nocturne,” dedicated
to Frau Terminsky. (5) “Capriccio”, dedicated to E. Langer. (6) “Thème
avec Variations,” dedicated to H. Laroche. The manuscript is dated
October 27th (November 8th), 1873. Jurgenson.
3. Op. 23. Concerto for pianoforte and orchestra (in B♭ minor).
Composed in November and December, 1874. The orchestration was
completed, according to a note on the score, February 9th (21st), 1875.
Dedicated to Hans von Bülow. Published by Jurgenson. In a letter to Frau
von Meck, Tchaikovsky says he took as the principal subject of the first
movement a phrase sung by Malo-Russian blind beggars at a village fair
at Kamenka.
[Illustration: musical notation]
Besides the example just quoted, he also borrowed another air, the
chansonette, “IL faut s’amuser, danser, et rire,” which the twins used
to hum early in the seventies, in remembrance of a certain charming
singer.
4. Op. 26. Serenade for violin, with orchestral accompaniment (B minor).
Composed January, 1875. Dedicated to L. Auer. Jurgenson.
5. Op. 27. Six songs: (1) “An den Schlaf,” words by Ogariev. (2) “Ob
sich die Wolke dort,” words by Grekov. (3) “Geh’ nicht von mir,” words
by Fet. (4) “Abend,” words by Chevchenko. (5) “Klage,” words by
Mickiewicz. (6) “Dem Vöglein gleich,” words by Mickiewicz. All six
dedicated to Madame Lavrovskaya. The date of composition not precisely
known. Jurgenson.
6. Op. 28. Six songs: (1) “Nein, wenn ich liebe,” words from de Musset,
dedicated to A. Nikholaev. (2) “Die rothe Perlenschnur,” words by
Syrokomli, dedicated to D. Dodonov. (3) “Warum im Traume,” words by Mey,
dedicated to Frau Ilina. (4) “Er liebte mich so sehr,” words by
Apukhtin, dedicated to E. Marsini. (5) “Kein Wort von Dir,” words by
Alexis Tolstoi, dedicated to B. Korsov. (6) “Ein einzig Wortchen,” text
by P. Tchaikovsky, dedicated to Frau E. Kadmina. The date of completion
is given on the manuscript as April 11th (23rd), 1875, in Moscow.
Jurgenson.
7. Op. 29. Symphony No. 3 (in D major) in five movements. The score
bears the following note in the composer’s own writing: “Commenced June
5th (17th) at Ussovo, completed August 1st (13th), 1875, at Verbovka.”
Published by Jurgenson. Played for the first time in Moscow, November
7th (19th), 1875.
* * * * *
Besides the above works, Tchaikovsky was engaged during part of August,
1875, upon the Ballet, _The Swan Lake_.
His literary activity was very considerable. Between September, 1874,
and April, 1875, he wrote not less than fifteen articles.
1875-1876
1. Op. 30. Quartet No. 3 in E flat major, for two violins, viola, and
‘cello, dedicated to the memory of F. Laub. The first sketch dates from
the beginning of January, 1876, in Paris. Finished, according to date
upon the manuscript, February 18th (March 1st), 1876. Performed for the
first time March 18th (30th) of the same year at Grijimaly’s concert.
Published by Jurgenson.
2. Op. 20. _The Swan Lake._ Ballet in four acts. Begun August, 1875,
finished at the end of March, 1876. Published by Jurgenson. First
performance at the Opera House, Moscow, February 20th (March 4th), 1877.
3. Op. 37. _The Seasons_, twelve pieces for piano. These were written in
the course of the year, one piece each month, and were commissioned by
the publisher of a St. Petersburg musical journal. Kashkin tells us that
Tchaikovsky did not consider this a very important work, but in order
not to miss sending each number at the right time, he ordered his
servant to remind him when a certain date came round in each month. The
man carried out his master’s order, coming at the right day with the
reminder: “Peter Ilich, is it not time to send to St. Petersburg?” upon
which Tchaikovsky would sit down at once and write the required piece
without a pause. Later the pieces were collected and republished by
Jurgenson.
4 The translation of the libretto and arrangement of the recitatives of
Mozart’s _Figaro_, which Tchaikovsky undertook (at the desire of N.
Rubinstein) for a performance of this opera by the students of the
Conservatoire.
This season Peter Ilich brought his literary work to an end. His last
criticisms dealt with Wagner’s Trilogy, and remained unfinished.
1876-1877
1. Op. 31. Slavonic March for full orchestra. First performance in
November, 1877, under N. Rubinstein’s bâton, at a symphony concert in
Moscow. Jurgenson.
2. Op. 32. _Francesca da Rimini_ (after Dante), symphonic fantasia for
full orchestra. Dedicated to S. I. Taneiev. Tchaikovsky sketched the
plan of this work during his visit to Paris in the summer of 1876. He
did not actually work at the composition until the end of September. The
sketch was finished October 14th (26th), the orchestration November 5th
(17th). First performance, under N. Rubinstein, at a symphony concert,
Moscow, February 26th (March 10th), 1877. Jurgenson.
3. Op. 33. _Variations on a Rococo Theme_, for violoncello and
orchestra. Dedicated to G. Fitzenhagen. Composed December, 1876.
Jurgenson.
4. Op. 34. Valse Scherzo, for violin and orchestra. Dedicated to Joseph
Kotek. Composed early in January, 1877. Jurgenson.
During this season Tchaikovsky sketched out his Fourth Symphony and
two-thirds of his opera, _Eugene Oniegin_.
1877-1878
1. Op. 36, Symphony No. 4 (F minor), in four movements. Dedicated to “My
best friend.” The first sketch was finished in May, 1877. On August
11th (23rd) Tchaikovsky began the instrumentation of the work, and
completed the first movement on September 12th (24th). After an interval
of two months he returned to the Symphony, about the end of November.
The Andante was finished on December 15th (27th), the Scherzo on the
20th (January 1st) 1878, and the Finale on the 26th (January 7th, 1878).
The first performance of the Symphony took place February 10th (22nd),
1878, at a concert of the Russian Musical Society, conducted by N.
Rubinstein.
2. Op. 24, _Eugene Oniegin_, lyric scenes, in three acts and seven
scenes. The libretto is freely arranged from Poushkin by the composer
himself and K. S. Shilovsky. The idea of this opera originated with the
celebrated singer, Madame E. A. Lavrovsky.
On May 18th (30th), 1877, Tchaikovsky sketched the plan for a libretto.
On June 6th (18th) the second scene of the first act (the Letter Scene)
was finished, and by June 15th (27th) the entire act was complete. By
June 23rd (July 5th), two-thirds of the opera were ready. After a
month’s respite, Tchaikovsky returned to the work at Kamenka, in August,
and completed the opera. Here he also began the instrumentation. During
September and the first half of October he did not work upon it at all;
afterwards he continued the instrumentation, finishing the whole of the
first act and despatching it to Moscow by the 23rd (November 4th). In
November Tchaikovsky orchestrated the first scene of the second act. The
whole of December, was devoted to the Fourth Symphony. On January 2nd
(14th) he took up the opera once more, at San Remo, and, completed it by
the 20th (February 1st) of this month. In the summer of 1880, at the
request of the Director of the Imperial Opera, Tchaikovsky added an
_écossaise_ to the first scene of Act II. and made some slight changes
in the Finale.
The first performance of the opera took place on March 17th (29th),
1879, by the students of the Moscow Conservatoire, in the Small Theatre.
For an account of the plot, see Appendix B.
3. Op. 38. Six songs, dedicated to A. Tchaikovsky. (1) “Don Juan’s
Serenade,” words by Count A. Tolstoi; (2) “Das war im ersten
Lenzesstrahl” (A. Tolstoi); (3) “Im erregenden Tanze” (A. Tolstoi); (4)
“Ach wenn du könntest” (A. Tolstoi); (5) “Aus dem Jenseits” (Lermontov);
(6) “Pimpinella” (Florentine song). Published by P. I. Jurgenson,
Moscow.
4. Op. 40. Twelve pieces for pianoforte (medium difficulty), dedicated
to M. Tchaikovsky, (1) “Etude,” (2) “Chanson triste,” (3) “Marche
funèbre,” (4) “Mazurka in C major,” (5) “Mazurka in D major,” (6) “Chant
sans paroles,” (7) “Au village,” (8) “Valse in A major,” (9) “Valse in A
major,” (10) “Danse russe,” (11) “Scherzo in F major,” (12) “Rêverie
interrompue.” Of these pieces, No. 12 was composed first. The middle
section of this piece is a Venetian song, which was sung almost every
evening under his window in Venice. The other pieces date from various
times, the “Danse russe” from 1876, having been originally intended as a
number for the Ballet, _The Swan Lake_. Jurgenson, Moscow.
5. Op. 37. Sonata for pianoforte (G major), in four movements. Dedicated
to Carl Klindworth. Commenced early in March, 1878, at Clarens, and
completed on April 30th (May 12th). First performed in public by
Nicholas Rubinstein, in Moscow, October 21st (November 2nd), 1879.
6. Op. 35. Concerto for violin and orchestra. Originally dedicated to L.
Auer. Tchaikovsky afterwards substituted the name of A. Brodsky. Begun
early in March, 1878, at Clarens, and the sketch finished by the 16th
(28th) of the same month. The original Andante did not satisfy the
composer, who wrote a new one. The instrumentation was completed by the
end of April. First performance by A. Brodsky, in Vienna (1879).
Jurgenson.
7. Op. 42. “Souvenir d’un lieu cher,” three pieces for violin and
pianoforte accompaniment. No. 1 is the original Andante of the Violin
Concerto. The other two pieces were composed at Brailov about the end of
May. Jurgenson.
8. Op. 41. The Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, for four-part mixed
chorus. Commenced May, 1878, at Kamenka, and finished on the 27th (June
8th) at Brailov. Jurgenson.
9. Op. 39. Kinderalbum, twenty-four easy pieces for pianoforte (_à la_
Schumann). Dedicated to Volodya Davidov. P. I. Jurgenson.
10. “Skobeliev March,” composed by “Sinopov.” Tchaikovsky concealed the
authorship of this piece, because he considered it of no value. It was
commissioned by Jurgenson at the end of April, and composed at Kamenka.
Besides these works, Tchaikovsky translated in December, 1877, the
Italian words of six songs by Glinka, and wrote the text of a vocal
quartet, also by Glinka.
The greater part of his First Suite was also completed during August,
1878.
1878-1879
1. Op. 43. First Suite, for full orchestra, in six movements.
The first sketches were made at Verbovka between August 15th and 25th,
1878. Originally the Suite was intended to have five movements only:
Introduction and Fugue, Scherzo, Andante, Intermezzo (“Echo du bal”),
and Rondo. Of these, three movements were completed, the fourth sketched
out, and the fifth projected, when Tchaikovsky laid it aside, only to
return to it in November while in Florence. On the 13th (25th) of this
month it was finished. The last two movements, however, received
different titles, “March Miniature” (4th) and “Giants’ Dance” (5th). In
August, 1879, the composer added a sixth movement, Divertimento. The
work was first performed in Moscow, under Nicholas Rubinstein. Published
by Jurgenson.
2. The _Maid of Orleans_, an opera in four acts and six scenes,
dedicated to E. Napravnik.
The libretto of this work was written by Tchaikovsky himself. It is
chiefly based upon Joukovsky’s translation of Schiller’s _Maid of
Orleans_, but some ideas were also derived from Wallon, Barbier’s play,
and the libretto of Mermet’s opera on the same subject. It is a pity the
composer did not confine himself to Schiller’s work, and more especially
as regards the uninteresting and gloomy ending. Shortly before his death
Tchaikovsky frequently spoke of altering the last scene and substituting
Schiller’s close. With this intention, he purchased the works of the
German poet, but unfortunately he was not destined to read the tragedy
again. For the plot of _The Maid of Orleans_, see Appendix B.
1879-1880
1. Op. 44. Second Concerto, for pianoforte and orchestra, in three
movements. Dedicated to N. Rubinstein. Played for the first time in
public on May 22nd (June 3rd), 1882, by S. I. Taneiev. Jurgenson.
2. The revised edition of the Second Symphony. Published by Bessel.
3. The “Italian Capriccio,” for full orchestra. Dedicated to K. Davidov.
The opening fanfare in this work is a bugle call of the Italian cavalry,
which Tchaikovsky heard every evening while living in the Hôtel
Constanzi, next to the barracks of the Royal Cuirassiers. Jurgenson.
4. Music for a _tableau vivant_: “Montenegro at the moment of receiving
the news of war between Russia and Turkey. A village elder reading out
the manifesto.” This music was never performed, as the projected
entertainment fell through. The manuscript has entirely disappeared.
5. Six vocal duets, with pianoforte accompaniment. Dedicated to Tatiana
Davidov: (_a_) “Der Abend,” (_b_) “Ballade,” (_c_) “Thränen,” (_d_) “Im
Garten,” (_e_) “Leidenschaft,” (_f_) “Dämmerung.” Jurgenson.
6. Op. 47. Seven songs, with pianoforte accompaniment. Dedicated to A.
V. Panaiev: (_a_) “Wenn ich das gewusst,” (_b_) “Durch die Gefilde des
Himmels,” (_c_) “Der Dämmerung Schleier sank,” (_d_) “Schlaf ein,
betrübtes Lieb,” (_e_) “Gesegnet sei mir Wald und Au,” (_f_) “Ob Heller
Tag,” (_g_) “War ich nicht ein Halm.” Jurgenson.
Besides the above, Tchaikovsky revised the overture, _Romeo and Juliet_.
1880-1881
1. Serenade for string orchestra, in four movements. Dedicated to Carl
Albrecht. First performance January 16th (28th), under the direction of
Erdmannsdörfer. Published by Jurgenson.
2. Op. 49. _The Year 1812_, festival overture for full orchestra.
Composed for the consecration of the Cathedral of the Saviour, Moscow.
Jurgenson.
Besides the above, an attempt to harmonise the Vesper Service and the
first sketch of the opera, _Mazeppa_.
1881-1882
1. Op. 50. Trio for pianoforte, violin, and violoncello. Dedicated to
the memory of a great artist (N. G. Rubinstein). The variation theme of
the second movement is a reminiscence of an excursion made in company
with Nicholas Rubinstein, and other colleagues from the Moscow
Conservatoire, shortly after the first performance of _Sniegourochka_
(_The Snow Maiden_), in the spring of 1873. The Trio was played for the
first time in public on October 18th (30th), 1882, by Taneiev,
Grijimaly, and Fitzenhagen. Published by Jurgenson.
2. An attempt to harmonise Divine Service. Setting for mixed chorus.
Seventeen numbers. Jurgenson.
From June to October Tchaikovsky was occupied in editing the works of
Bortniansky.
During this year he began the sketch of the opera, _Mazeppa_. By the
middle of July two acts were completed.
1882-1883
1. Op. 51. Six pieces for pianoforte: (1) “Valse de Salon,” (2) “Polka
peu dansante,” (3) “Menuetto scherzoso,” (4) “Natha--Valse,” (5)
“Romance,” (6) “Valse sentimentale.”
These pieces were commissioned by the brothers Jurgenson and composed at
Kamenka about the end of August.
2. Verses upon the theme of the “Slavsia,” from Glinka’s _A Life for the
Tsar_, winding up with the Russian National Anthem, for chorus and
orchestra.
This chorus was sung by 7,500 students in Moscow, May 10th (22nd), 1883,
at the moment when the Emperor Alexander III appeared at the Red
Staircase upon his solemn entry to the Kremlin. (Manuscript only.)
3. Festal Coronation March for orchestra. Commissioned by the city of
Moscow, first performed at Sokolinky, on May 23rd (June 4th), at a fête
in honour of the Coronation. Jurgenson.
4. _Mazeppa_, an opera, in three acts and six scenes. The subject is
taken from Poushkin’s poem, _Poltava_, arranged by Bourenin and the
composer himself.
The opera was first performed at the Imperial Opera, Moscow, February
3rd (15th), 1884. Jurgenson. For the plot, see Appendix B.
Besides the above, Tchaikovsky began his Second Suite for orchestra
during the summer of 1883.
1883 TO JANUARY, 1885
1. Op. 53. Suite No. 2, in four movements, for full orchestra. Dedicated
to Madame P. W. Tchaikovsky. First performed at an extra concert of the
Russian Musical Society, February 4th (16th), 1884, in Moscow, under the
direction of Max Erdmannsdörfer. Published by Jurgenson.
2. Op. 54. Sixteen Children’s Songs, with pianoforte accompaniment.
Published by Jurgenson.
3. Op. 55. Suite No. 3, in four movements, for full orchestra. Dedicated
to M. Erdmannsdörfer. First performance in Petersburg, in January, 1885,
under the direction of Hans von Bülow. Published by Jurgenson.
4. Op. 56. Fantasia Concerto, in two movements, for pianoforte, with
orchestral accompaniment. Originally dedicated to Madame A. Essipoff;
afterwards to Madame Sophie Menter. Played for the first time by S.
Taneiev, February 22nd (March 6th), 1885, in Moscow. Published by
Jurgenson.
5. Impromptu Capriccio for pianoforte. Dedicated to Madame S. Jurgenson.
Originally published in the “Subscribers’ Album” of Paris _Gaulois_. Was
taken over later by Jurgenson.
6. Elegy for string orchestra. Composed in memory of the actor, I.
Samarin. Published by Jurgenson.
7. Three church anthems. Published by Jurgenson.
8. Op. 57. Six songs, with pianoforte accompaniment, (1) “O, sprich,
wovon die Nachtigall,” (2) “Auf’s bleiche Herbstgefild,” (3) “O, frage
nicht,” (4) “Schlaf’ ein,” (5) “Der Tod,” (6) “Nur du allein.” Published
by Jurgenson. Besides the above, Tchaikovsky had been working, in
November, 1884, at the reconstruction of his opera, _Vakoula the
Smith_.
FROM JANUARY 1ST TO SEPTEMBER 12TH, 1885
1. Remodelling the opera _Vakoula the Smith_ as _Les Caprices d’Oxane_.
Besides simplifying the orchestration and harmony and cutting down the
work, as he first proposed, Tchaikovsky also introduced some entirely
new numbers: (1) the duet between Vakoula and Oxane and the Finale of
the second scene in first act, (2) the Schoolmaster’s song, (3) the
quintet in the first scene of the second act, (4) the couplets in third
act. Published by Jurgenson.
2. Hymn in honour of Saints Cyril and Methodius. This hymn is an old
Slavonic melody arranged for a choir:--
[Illustration musical notation: Vá[)z]n[)e] ale ne zdlouha.
Published by Jurgenson.]
3. Five church hymns. Published by Jurgenson.
4. “Ecossaise,” for the sixth scene in the opera _Eugene Oniegin_.
Tchaikovsky composed and orchestrated this piece in Maidanovo and sent
it to St. Petersburg all in one day.
5. Op. 58. _Manfred_. A Symphony in four scenes for full orchestra, from
a dramatic poem by Lord Byron. Dedicated to Mily Balakirev. The first
sketches for this work were made in April, 1885. According to the note
on the score, it was finished December 12th (24th), 1885, and played for
the first time March 11th (23rd), 1886, under the direction of
Erdmannsdörfer, in Moscow. Published by Jurgenson.
1885-1886
1. Text and music of a chorus for the fiftieth anniversary of the
foundation of the Imperial School of Jurisprudence. Composed at
Maidanovo, September, 1885. Manuscript.
2. “Jurists’ March,” for full orchestra. Composed at Kamenka, October,
1885. Published by Jurgenson.
3. The “Domovoi” (“House Spirit”), from a scene in Ostrovsky’s play,
_The Voyevode_. Composed January, 1886. Manuscript.
4. Op. 59. “Dumka.” Russian village scene for the pianoforte. Dedicated
to the Principal of the Paris Conservatoire, A. Marmontel. Composed at
Maidanovo end of February. Published by Jurgenson. Besides these
unimportant works, Tchaikovsky was engaged during the whole season upon
his opera, _The Enchantress_.
1886-1887
(FROM SEPTEMBER 1ST, 1886, TO JANUARY 1ST, 1888)
1. Op. 60. Twelve songs, with pianoforte accompaniment. Dedicated to Her
Majesty the Empress Maria Feodorovna. (1) “Die gestrige Nacht,” (2)
“Verschwiegenheit,” (3) “O, wüsstest Du,” (4) “Die Nachtigall,” (5)
“Schlichte Worte,” (6) “Die Schlaflose Nächte,” (7) “Lied der
Zigeunerin,” (8) “Lebewohl,” (9) “Die Nacht,” (10) “Lockung,” (11)
“Heldenmut,” (12) “Sternennacht.” Published by Jurgenson.
2. _The Enchantress_, opera in four acts. The libretto by I. V.
Shpajinsky, author of the drama of the same name. First performed on
October 20th (November 1st), 1887, at the Maryinsky Theatre, St.
Petersburg, and conducted by the composer. Jurgenson. For plot, see
Appendix B.
3. Op. 61. _Mozartiana._ Suite No. 4, in four movements, arranged from
various works of Mozart and orchestrated for full orchestra. In his
short preface to the score Tchaikovsky gives the following reasons which
prompted this work: “A large number of the most beautiful of Mozart’s
smaller works are, for some reason, little known, not only to the
public, but to musicians. The composer’s object in arranging this Suite
was to bring more frequently before the public works which, however
modest in form, are gems of musical literature.” First performed at
Moscow, November 14th (26th), 1887, under the direction of the composer.
Jurgenson.
4. Op. 62. “Pezzo Capriccioso,” for violoncello, with orchestral
accompaniment. Dedicated to A. Brandonkov. Played by him for the first
time, November 25th (December 7th), 1889. Jurgenson.
5. Op. 63. Six songs. Dedicated to the Grand Duke Constantine
Constantinovich. (1) “Nicht sogleich,” (2) “Am offenen Fenster,” (3)
“Fahrt hin, ihr Träume,” (4) Wiedersehen,” (5) “Kein Lichtlein glänzt,”
(6) “Serenade.” Jurgenson.
6. A chorus for men’s voices _a capella_. Dedicated to the Students’
Choir of the Moscow University. Published by Jurgenson.
1888 (FROM JANUARY 1ST TO SEPTEMBER 1ST)
1. Op. 64. Symphony No. 5 (E minor), in four movements, for full
orchestra. Dedicated to Herr Theodor Ave-Lallemant of Hamburg. First
performance in Petersburg, November, 1888, conducted by the composer.
Published by Jurgenson.
2. Op. 65. Six songs to French words, with pianoforte accompaniment.
Dedicated to Désirée Artôt. (1) “Où vas-tu souffle d’aurore?” (2)
“Déception,” (3) “Sérénade,” (4) “Qu’importe que l’hiver,” (5) “Les
larmes,” (6) “Rondel.” Composed in the course of the summer. Jurgenson.
3. “Die Nachtigall,” chorus _a capella_. Dedicated to the mixed choir
of the Petersburg Imperial Opera House. Exact date of composition
unknown. Jurgenson.
Besides the above, Tchaikovsky completed the sketches for the
overture-fantasia, _Hamlet_.
1888-1889
1. Orchestration of an overture by Laroche. Manuscript.
2. Op. 67. _Hamlet_, overture-fantasia for full orchestra. Dedicated to
Edvard Grieg. Jurgenson.
3. Valse Scherzo, for pianoforte. Jurgenson.
4. Op. 66. _Dornröschen_ (Sleeping Beauty). Ballet in three acts, with a
prologue. Dedicated to I. A. Vsievolojsky. The subject is taken from
Perrault’s fairy tale of the same name.
The first performance of the Ballet took place January 3rd (15th), 1890,
in the Maryinsky Theatre, Petersburg. Jurgenson.
1889-1890
1. Impromptu for pianoforte. Dedicated to A. Rubinstein. Jurgenson.
2. “Greeting to A. G. Rubinstein,” chorus _a capella_. Jurgenson.
3. _Pique Dame._ Opera in three acts and seven scenes. Libretto by
Modeste Tchaikovsky. The subject is taken from Poushkin’s novel of the
same name. The first performance took place in the Maryinsky Theatre, in
Petersburg, December 7th (19th), 1890. Published by Jurgenson. For plot,
see Appendix B.
Besides the above, on June 13th Tchaikovsky began to compose a Sextet
for Strings, of which the sketches were finished by June 30th.
1890-1891
1. Op. 67_a_. Music to Shakespeare’s _Hamlet_. Overture, melodramas,
fanfares, marches, and entr’actes for small orchestra. Seventeen numbers
in all, of which, however, some are transferred from earlier works.
Jurgenson.
2. Three choruses _a capella_. Composed at Frolovskoe, and dedicated to
I. A. Melnikov’s “Gratuitous Choral Class.” Published in Melnikov’s
_Collection of Russian Choruses_.
Besides the above, Tchaikovsky finished the sketches of the
_Nut-cracker_ Ballet and of the opera of _Iolanthe_.
1891-1892
1. Op. 78. _The Voyevode_, symphonic ballad, for full orchestra (after
Poushkin). First performance under the direction of the composer, at a
concert given by Siloti, November 6th (18th), 1891. The following day
Tchaikovsky himself destroyed the score of this work, the band parts
remaining in Siloti’s keeping. After the composer’s death the score was
restored from the parts and published by Belaiev.
2. Op. 69. _Iolanthe._ Lyrical opera in one act. The subject founded on
the drama, _King René’s Daughter_, by the Danish poet, Henrik Herz. The
libretto by Modeste Tchaikovsky. First performed in Petersburg in the
Maryinsky Theatre, December 6th (18th), 1892. Published by Jurgenson.
See Appendix B.
3. Op. 70. “Souvenir de Florence.” Sextet for two violins, two violas,
and two violoncellos, in four movements. Dedicated to the Petersburg
Chamber Music Society. First performance by this society November 25th
(December 7th), 1892. Published by Jurgenson.
4. Op. 71. _The Nut-cracker._ Fairy Ballet in two acts and three scenes.
The subject is borrowed from A. Dumas’ version of Hoffman’s fairy tale.
The following programme was suggested to Tchaikovsky by the gifted
ballet-master, Petipa:--
No. 1. Soft music. Sixty-four bars.
No. 2. The tree is lit up. Sparkling music. Eight bars.
No. 3. Enter the children. Animated and joyous music. Twenty-four bars.
No. 4. A moment of surprise and admiration. A few bars of tremolo.
No. 5. A march. Sixty-four bars.
No. 6. Entrée des Incroyables. Sixteen bars, rococo (tempo menuet).
No. 7. Galop.
No. 8. Enter Drosselmeyer. Awe-inspiring but comic music. A broad
movement, sixteen to twenty-four bars.
The music gradually changes character--twenty-four bars. It becomes less
serious, lighter, and finally gay in tone.
Grave music for eight bars, then pause.
Repeat the eight bars--pause.
Four bars which express astonishment.
No. 9. Eight bars in mazurka rhythm. Eight more. Sixteen still in
mazurka rhythm.
No. 10. A piquant, spicy valse, strongly rhythmic. Forty-eight bars.
1892-1893
1. Military march. Dedicated to the 98th Infantry Regiment.
Tchaikovsky’s cousin, Andrew Petrovich Tchaikovsky, colonel of this
regiment, asked him in February, 1893, to compose this march.
2. Op. 72. Eighteen pieces for pianoforte. (1) “Impromptu,” (2)
“Berceuse,” (3) “Tendres reproches,” (4) “Danse caractéristique,” (5)
“Méditation,” (6) “Mazurque pour danser,” (7) “Polacca de Concert,” (8)
“Dialogue,” (9) “Un poco di Schumann,” (10) “Scherzo-Fantaisie,” (11)
“Valse-Bluette,” (12) “L’Espiègle,” (13) “Echo rustique,” (14) “Chant
élégiaque,” (15) “Un poco di Chopin,” (16) “Valse à cinq temps,” (17)
“Passé lointain,” (18) “Scène dansante. Invitation au trépak” Published
by Jurgenson.
3. Op. 73. Six songs, with pianoforte accompaniment. Words by D.
Rathaus. Dedicated to N. Figner. (1) “An den schlummernden Strom,” (2)
“Nachts,” (3) “O, du mondhelle Nacht,” (4) “Sonne ging zur Ruhe,” (5)
“In Trüber Stunde,” (6) “Weil ich wie einstmals.” Published by
Jurgenson.
4. “Night.” Quartet for soprano, alto, tenor, and bass, with pianoforte
accompaniment. Words by P. Tchaikovsky. The music is founded on Mozart’s
Pianoforte Fantasia No. 4.
In 1892 Vladimir Napravnik, who was staying with Tchaikovsky at
Maidanovo, played to him very frequently. This pleased his host, and on
one occasion Napravnik’s clever rendering of Mozart’s fantasia roused
him to so much enthusiasm that he resolved to make a quartet from the
middle movement. He carried out this intention in May, 1893. Jurgenson.
5. Op. 74. Symphony No. 6, in four movements, for full orchestra.
Dedicated to V. Davidov. Performed for the first time in Petersburg,
October, 16th (28th), 1893. Conducted by the composer. Jurgenson.
6. Op. 75. Concerto No. 3, for pianoforte and orchestra. Dedicated to
Louis Diemer. This Concerto was taken from a Symphony which Tchaikovsky
began in May, 1892, and all but completed. He afterwards destroyed the
Symphony. The Concerto was first played in Petersburg by Taneiev.
Published by Jurgenson.
Besides the above, the following works were found at Klin after
Tchaikovsky’s death:--
1. _Momento lirico._ A piece, nearly completed, for the pianoforte.
Taneiev only pieced together the separate sketches. Published by
Jurgenson.
2. Duet, “Romeo and Juliet.” In this work Taneiev had more to amplify,
as he had to supply the entire accompaniments of the solo parts. He
borrowed these from Tchaikovsky’s orchestral fantasia on the same
subject.
3. Andante and Finale, for pianoforte and orchestra. Both movements were
arranged by Tchaikovsky himself from sketches for the Symphony planned
in 1892. The orchestration is by Taneiev, who was the first to play the
work in public at Belaiev’s first Russian Symphony Concert, February 8th
(20th), 1896. Thus Taneiev accomplished his rôle as the original
interpreter of all Tchaikovsky’s pianoforte works (excepting the
Concerto in B flat minor, which was played for the first time by Kross).
Published by Belaiev.
APPENDIX B
THE PLOTS OF TCHAIKOVSKY’S CHIEF OPERAS
1. _The Oprichnik._ The Oprichniks were a band of dissolute young
noblemen, the chosen body-guard of Ivan the Terrible, who swore by
fearful and unnatural oaths to carry out every command of the despot
they served. Sometimes they masqueraded as monks and celebrated “black
mass.” In reality they were robbers and murderers, hated and feared by
the people whom they oppressed. Andrew Morozov, the descendant of a
noble, but impoverished, house, and the only son of the widowed Lady
Morozova, is in love with the beautiful Natalia, daughter of Prince
Jemchoujny. His poverty disqualifies him as a suitor. Natalia’s father
promises her hand to the elderly boyard Mitkov. While desperately in
need of money, Andrew falls in with Basmanov, a young Oprichnik, who
persuades him to join their community, telling him that an Oprichnik can
always fill his own pockets. Andrew consents, believing it to be his
only chance of revenging himself upon Prince Jemchoujny. The Lady
Morozova is a high-minded, religious woman. Andrew, anxious to relieve
her poverty, takes her money which he has borrowed from Basmanov. His
mother refuses to touch what she knows to be the fruit of robbery and
murder, and implores her son not to associate with the hated Oprichniks.
Andrew, who is devoted to his mother, promises to respect her wishes.
Afterwards the desire for power and vengeance prevails, and he consents
to take the oath of the Oprichnik band. The first sacrifice demanded of
him is the complete renunciation of his mother and Natalia. Lady
Morozova is now heart-broken, deserted by her son and hated by the
populace, who insult her in the public square as the “mother of an
Oprichnik.” She is about to take refuge in the church, when Natalia
flies to her for protection. She has escaped from her father and her
middle-aged suitor Mitkov. Prince Jemchoujny appears on the scene and
orders his rebellious daughter to return to her home. His chidings are
interrupted by the arrival of the Oprichniks, awakening terror and
hatred among the people. Andrew catches sight of his mother, whom he has
not seen for many days, and rushes to embrace her, when the sinister
theme of the Oprichniks is heard in the orchestra, reminding him of his
vows. Lady Morozova turns from her son, disowns him, and solemnly curses
him as an Oprichnik. In the last act Andrew, unable to abandon Natalia
to her fate, resolves to marry her in spite of his vows. But Prince
Viazminsky, the leader of the Oprichniks, cherishes an old grudge
against the family of Morozov, and works for Andrew’s downfall. He
breaks in upon the wedding-feast with a message from the Tsar. Ivan the
Terrible has heard of the bride’s beauty, and desires her attendance at
the royal apartments. Andrew, with gloomy forebodings in his heart,
prepares to escort his bride, when Viazminsky, with a meaning smile,
explains that the invitation is for the bride _alone_. Andrew refuses to
let his wife go into the royal presence without his protection.
Viazminsky proclaims him a traitor to his vows. Natalia is carried off
by force, and the Oprichniks lead Andrew into the market-place to suffer
the death penalty at their hands. Meanwhile Lady Morozova, who has
relented, comes to bless her son on his wedding-day. She enters the
deserted hall, where Viazminsky, alone, is gloating over the success of
his intrigue. She inquires unsuspectingly for Andrew, and he leads her
to the window. Horror-stricken, she witnesses the execution of her son,
and falls dead at the feet of her triumphant enemy.
2. _Vakoula the Smith_, afterwards known as _Cherevichek_ (“The Little
Shoes”), and finally republished as _Les Caprices d’Oxane_. Christmas
Eve. A moonlight night, in the village of Dikanka. Solokha, the witch,
comes out of one of the huts, and is joined by the devil. They decide to
fly off together. The witch goes to fetch a broomstick, and the devil in
his monologue sings of his hatred of Vakoula the Smith, because the
latter has drawn a caricature of him upon the church wall. He invokes a
snowstorm. Solokha reappears, and they elope together, stealing the moon
and stars as they go, and leaving the village plunged in darkness.
Vakoula is making love to the beautiful daughter of Choub the Cossack.
To-night Choub is going to supper with the sacristan, and Vakoula will
take the opportunity of visiting his sweetheart, who, however, remains
deaf to all his entreaties. Meanwhile Choub loses his way in the
darkness, and after wandering round in a circle finds himself at his own
hut. Vakoula mistakes him for a rival lover, and drives him away from
his own threshold.
The second act shows the interior of the witch’s hut, where Solokha is
making herself smart after her ride through space on a broomstick. The
devil comes out of the stove and makes love to her. They dance the
_Gopak_, while little imps emerge from every nook and cranny in the form
of crickets and beetles. A knock is heard, and the devil hides himself
in an empty sack. Enter the Headman of the village. Another knock, and
the Headman, who does not want to be caught with Solokha, disposes of
himself in another sack. This time the sacristan comes in, and the same
ruse is enacted; and, finally, Choub appears on the scene and, at a
fourth knock, he too takes refuge in a sack. The last comer is the
witch’s son Vakoula. He is so wrapped up in his love troubles, that he
picks up the sacks in an absent-minded way and carries them off to the
smithy. In the scene that follows the villagers are singing Christmas
carols in the village street. The moon has returned to its place. Oxana,
who is among the singers, catches sight of Vakoula and cannot refrain
from teazing him a little more. She tells him she will marry him if he
will bring her the Tsaritsa’s own shoes. Vakoula goes off in a temper,
taking the sack containing the devil and leaving the others in the road.
The children peep inside and discover the Headman, the sacristan, and
Choub.
In the third act Vakoula goes to drown himself in the forest pool. He
puts the sack containing the devil at the edge of the water. The evil
spirit offers to give Oxana to the smith in exchange for his soul.
Vakoula consents, and will sign the contract in his blood. The devil
lets him go for a moment, and Vakoula overpowers him in turn. He makes
the devil promise to take him to the Tsaritsa, and they take flight for
St. Petersburg. A room in the Palace: the herald announces a victory of
the Russian army. The Zaparogue Cossacks are summoned before the Tsar.
The Cossacks dance a _Gopak_. Vakoula takes the opportunity of begging
for the Tsaritsa’s shoes, which are granted to him. The devil takes him
back to his native village. Christmas morning: Vakoula finds Oxana
bewailing his supposed loss. He consoles her with the shoes, and she
consents to become his wife.
3. _Eugene Oniegin._ Madame Lerin and the old nurse are making preserves
in the garden of a Russian country house. From indoors a duet is heard.
Tatiana and her sister Olga are singing to the accompaniment of a harp.
The peasants appear on the scene, carrying the last sheaf from the
harvest fields. National songs and dances. The announcement of guests
creates a considerable commotion in the quiet country household. They
prove to be Lensky, a young neighbour, fresh from a German university,
and Oniegin, a dandy from the capital, on a visit to his friend. Madame
Lerin and the nurse retire to prepare supper. The young people saunter
in the garden, Lensky with Olga, Tatiana with Oniegin. Tatiana is shy at
first, then falls in love with the stranger. In the second scene Tatiana
is sitting in her room by moonlight. The old nurse comes to scold her
for not being asleep. There follows a long, confidential talk between
them (recitative with soft accompaniment based on Tatiana’s theme). When
her nurse has gone, Tatiana sits dreaming of her love for Oniegin. How
will he guess her secret, unless she reveals it herself? In her
innocence of the world she resolves to write him a love letter. She begs
the nurse to convey it to Oniegin. The old woman hesitates, but cannot
refuse anything to the child of her heart. Reluctantly she departs on
her errand. The third scene takes us back to the garden. Oniegin meets
Tatiana. He cannot appreciate the directness and sweetness of the girl’s
nature. Jaded and world-worn, Tatiana seems to him insipid and
provincial, while at the same time he finds her forward. He thanks her
coldly for her letter, assures her he is not a marrying man, and gives
her some cynical advice as to the wisdom of acting with more maidenly
reserve in future. Then he leaves her, crushed with shame and
disappointment.
The second act opens upon a ballroom scene. It is Tatiana’s birthday.
Oniegin, whom Lensky has dragged to the dance against his will, amuses
himself by flirting with Olga. The complimentary couplets sung to
Tatiana by the elderly Frenchman Triquet are a favourite number in this
scene. As the ball progresses Lensky, mad with jealousy, loses his
self-control and insults Oniegin. The latter now feels some qualms of
conscience, but the hot-headed youth forces a challenge upon him, and he
consents to fight. The party breaks up in consternation. The second
scene is devoted to the duel in which Oniegin kills Vladimir Lensky.
Some years are supposed to elapse between the second and third acts. A
reception at a fashionable house in Petersburg. Oniegin is seen standing
apart from the guests, in gloomy reflection. He has returned home after
a self-imposed exile. Remorse for Lensky’s death haunts him, and he can
find no satisfaction in love or folly. All the guests are impatient for
the arrival of the acknowledged belle of society, Princess Gremin. When
she comes on the scene, Oniegin recognises Tatiana, transformed into a
stately, gracious woman of the world. Her husband is elderly, but
distinguished, handsome, and devoted to his beautiful young wife.
Oniegin’s chilly egotism is thawed, and he falls passionately in love
with the woman he once despised. The last scene takes place in the
boudoir of the Princess Gremin. She is reading a letter from Oniegin, in
which he declares his love. This communication throws her into a state
of agitation, and, before she can recover herself, Oniegin breaks in
upon her in person. In a long, impassioned duet he implores her to have
pity and to fly with him. With some of the rake’s vanity still left in
his nature, he cannot at first realise that she can resist him. Tatiana
respects and honours her husband. At first she tries to punish Oniegin
for the past. Then she struggles between duty and reawakened love.
Finally, with a supreme effort, she breaks away from him at the very
moment when she has confessed her true feelings. When the curtain falls,
Oniegin, baffled and despairing, is left alone on the stage.
4. _The Maid of Orleans._ A village festival at Domrémy. Thibaut, Joan’s
father, and Raimond, her lover, appear upon the scene. Thibaut says it
is no time for dancing and singing; a maid needs a man to protect her,
and therefore he wishes Joan to marry Raimond. She is silent, but
finally confesses that she has chosen another destiny. Her father is
angry and reproachful. A fire is seen on the horizon, and the tocsin is
heard. Old Bertrand comes in. He speaks of the desperate state of the
country and the approach of the English army. Suddenly Joan rises up and
speaks with prophetic inspiration. She feels the hour for action has
come, and bids farewell to her birthplace. The angels appear to Joan and
incite her to heroic deeds.
Third act. A field near Rheims. The meeting of Joan and Lionel. They
fight. Joan overcomes him, and stands above him with her drawn sword. At
this moment she catches sight of his face, and falls in love with him.
He returns her passion. Dunois comes upon the scene, and Lionel tells
him that he wishes to join the French army. Dunois is delighted that
such a great leader should come over to France. He leads him away in the
King’s name. Joan collapses, and discovers she is wounded. Second scene.
The coronation of Charles VII. The King announces to the people that
Joan has saved the country. Her father declares that she has been
supported by the powers of hell, rather than the angels of heaven. No
one believes him. Lionel and Dunois are ready to do combat on her
behalf. The Archbishop of Rheims asks her if she is “pure.” She believes
herself a sinner in intention, and will not reply. All leave her. Lionel
comes to console her in her abandonment. She turns from him in
indignation, as from “her worst enemy.”
Fourth act. The forest. Lionel pursues Joan. At first she flees from
him, then suddenly yields to their mutual passion. They hear the English
trumpets in the distance. Joan refuses to escape. She is taken prisoner,
and Lionel is slain. Second scene. Rouen. Joan is led to the stake. For
a moment she loses courage, but is sustained by a chorus of angels. She
is bound to the stake. A priest offers her a wooden crucifix. The
faggots are lighted.
5. _Mazeppa._--First act. First scene. Kochoubey’s garden, where his
daughter Maria, after parting with her girl friends, sings of her love
for her father’s guest, Mazeppa. Enter Andrew, a young Cossack, who has
loved Maria from childhood. He knows her secret passion for Mazeppa.
Kochoubey and his wife come into the garden with their guests, including
Mazeppa and Iskra. The former asks Kochoubey’s consent to his marriage
with Maria. Songs and dances take place during the discussion. Mazeppa
insinuates that Maria cannot marry anyone but himself, and her father
indignantly orders him to leave the house. He does so, but first wrings
from Maria the confession that she cares for him more than for her
parents. Second scene. Kochoubey’s house. Maria has fled with Mazeppa.
His wife bemoans the loss of her child, and instigates her husband to
vengeance. He promises to denounce Mazeppa to the Tsar. Andrew
undertakes to lay his complaint at the foot of the throne.
Second act. A dungeon in the castle of Bielotserkovsky. Kochoubey is
imprisoned there, because Mazeppa has treacherously impeached him at
Court before he had time to lay his own grievances before the Tsar. This
scene contains a dramatic moment, in which Kochoubey is confronted with
Mazeppa’s tool--Orlik. In the second scene Mazeppa gives orders to Orlik
for the execution of Kochoubey on the following day. Then Maria appears.
Love scene with Mazeppa. She does not know the full extent of his
cruelty and treachery, and still cares for him, in spite of her vague
forebodings. Her mother appears on the scene, and reveals the terrible
destiny which awaits Maria’s father. Mother and daughter hurry away to
try if they can save Kochoubey. Third scene. The place of execution. The
populace are waiting to see the death of Kochoubey and Iskra. Dance of a
drunken Cossack. Procession to the scaffold. Maria and her mother arrive
at the moment when the axe falls, and the former loses consciousness
when she realises that it is too late to effect a rescue.
Third act. Symphonic sketch, “The Battle of Poltava.” The deserted
garden and homestead of the Kochoubeys. Andrew appears. All day in the
battle he has striven to meet Mazeppa, and slay him in single combat,
but in vain. Now he has come to take a last leave of the spot where he
and Maria spent their happy childhood. Enter Mazeppa and Orlik. Andrew
reproaches the former for all the misery he has brought upon Maria, and
challenges him to fight. Andrew is mortally wounded. Then Maria wanders
in. Her misfortunes have upset her reason. Mazeppa tells her to follow
him, but she refuses, and he abandons her to her fate. She sees Andrew,
but does not fully recognise him. She takes the dying Cossack in her
arms, and sings him to his last sleep with a childish lullaby. The
peasantry, attracted by the noise of the fight between Mazeppa and
Andrew, now arrive upon the scene. Maria starts up suddenly, and, with a
mad laugh, throws herself into the stream.
6. _The Enchantress_ (“Charodeika”). First act. The banks of the Oka,
near Nijny-Novgorod. National customs. Kouma Nastasia appears outside
her inn and welcomes her customers. A boat comes down the river. The
Prince--son of the Governor of Nijny--is returning from the chase. He
drifts by, and Kouma remains pensive at the river’s edge. She is in love
with the Prince. The Governor and his Counsellor, Prince Mamirov,
suddenly appear on the scene. The latter, who is the representative of
respectability and decency, detests Kouma. He has compelled the Governor
to come and see for himself what a gang of disorderly characters meet in
Nastasia’s inn. The people are very agitated at this arrival, and wish
to remain near Kouma in order to protect her from violence. But she begs
them to retire. Then she puts on her best attire and goes out to meet
the unexpected guests. The Prince immediately falls a victim to her
charms. He accepts a cup of wine from the beautiful innkeeper, and gives
her his ring in return. Kouma, not contented with her victory over the
two men, is seized with a desire to humiliate Mamirov, and asks him to
join in the mummers’ dance. He refuses, but the Governor--now completely
under the spell of Kouma Nastasia’s beauty--orders him to do so. Mamirov
dances amid the laughter of the spectators.
Second act. The garden of the Governor’s house. His wife is discovered,
deep in thought. Her maid Nenila is near at hand. The Governor’s wife is
jealous, because her husband now spends all his days with Kouma. She
vows to revenge herself. Mamirov fans her smouldering wrath. Enter the
Prince, who perceives that his mother is in trouble and tries to
console her. They enter the house together. The Wanderer comes upon the
scene, and Mamirov orders him to report upon everything that takes place
in Kouma’s inn. Then the Governor himself arrives. He is full of his
passion for Kouma Nastasia. There follows a stormy scene between husband
and wife. The Governor returns to Kouma. The Wanderer reveals to the
Prince the real reason of the quarrel between the Governor and his wife,
the son swears to avenge his mother’s wrongs and to kill Kouma, whom he
has never seen.
Third act. Kouma’s house. Evening. The Governor tells Kouma he loves
her, but she does not respond. He threatens her, but she declares she
would sooner lose her life than yield to him. He goes away in anger.
Kouma’s uncle warns her that the young Prince has sworn to avenge his
mother, and is coming to kill her that very night. She sends all her
friends away and remains alone. She would rather die by the Prince’s
hand than accept the Governor as her lover. She puts out the light, lies
down on her bed, and awaits the end. The Prince comes, creeps to the
bedside, draws the curtain aside, and drops his dagger, spell-bound by
the beauty of the woman. A lengthy duet. The Prince becomes wholly
entranced by Kouma’s charms.
Fourth act. A dark forest on the banks of the Oka. The cave of Koudma
the Wizard. The Prince comes on the scene, attired as for hunting. He
inquires of Koudma whether all is now ready for his flight with Kouma.
He departs with his huntsmen. Enter the Wanderer, bringing the
Governor’s wife, disguised as a beggar-woman. She has come to ask the
wizard for some fatal spell to destroy Kouma. The Wanderer flees in
terror, and the Governor’s wife enters the cave alone. A boat arrives
containing Kouma and her friends. They land, leaving her alone to wait
for the Prince. The revengeful wife approaches Kouma and offers her a
refreshing drink, into which she drops the fatal poison. Kouma drinks.
The Prince returns and rushes to embrace her. All is ready for their
flight, but the poison has already done its work--Kouma dies in her
lover’s arms. The Governor’s wife confesses her guilt, and the Prince in
despair repulses her. Enter the Governor in search of the fugitives. He
cannot see Kouma, and believes she is being hidden from him. Maddened
with jealousy, he hurls himself upon his son and kills him. His wife
curses him as a murderer. The body of the Prince is borne away and the
Governor remains alone. A terrible storms breaks over his head. Overcome
with remorse and terror, he falls down in a mortal swoon.
7. _Pique Dame._ First act. First scene. The Summer Garden in
Petersburg. Spring. Chorus of nurses and governesses. Some of the
“golden youth” of the capital appear on the scene. They speak of
Hermann’s extraordinary passion for gambling. Enter Hermann and Tomsky.
The former talks of his love for a distinguished girl with whose name he
is not acquainted, although he often meets her in the street,
accompanied by an old lady of forbidding appearance. Enter Prince
Yeletsky, who announces his engagement to the very girl in whom Hermann
is interested. Hermann is depressed because his poverty is a hindrance
to his suit. While the sight of Liza always awakens his best feelings,
that of her grandmother fills him with a vague horror. Tomsky tells him
a tale to the effect that the old Countess possesses the secret
combination of three cards, which accounts for her extraordinary luck at
the gaming tables. Hermann, in his morbid mental condition, believes
himself destined to acquire this secret at any price. A terrible
thunderstorm still further upsets his mind, and he begins to realise
with horror that he is capable of committing a murder. He resolves to
put an end to himself, but not until he has declared his love to Liza.
Second scene. Liza and her young friends are amusing themselves with
singing and dancing. The governess appears on the scene, and the merry
party is broken up. Liza is left alone. She is not in love with her
fiancé, for her imagination is entirely occupied with the mysterious
young man whom she so often meets out of doors. Suddenly Hermann appears
before her. He threatens to kill himself on the spot if she will not
listen to him. Just as she has gathered courage to drive him away, the
old Countess comes in, alarmed by the commotion in her grand-daughter’s
apartment. Liza conceals Hermann. The sight of the old Countess brings
back his _idée fixe_ of the three cards. When Liza has succeeded in
calming her grandmother, and has induced her to return to her room, she
goes back to Hermann with the intention of dismissing him; but in the
end his passion prevails over her scruples.
Second act. Third scene. A fancy-dress ball. Prince Yeletsky pays his
addresses to Liza, who does not respond. Hermann is among the guests. At
the sight of the Countess the insane longing to possess the secret of
her luck comes over him again. In a _tête-à-tête_ with Liza he implores
her to let him visit her that night. She tells him how he may gain
access to her room unperceived.
Fourth scene. The Countess’s bedroom. Hermann appears through the secret
door. He hears steps, and hides himself again. The old Countess returns
from the ball. She goes into her boudoir, and presently reappears in her
night attire. She is tired and cross, and complains that in her youth
parties were more amusing than they are now. She dismisses her maid, and
falls asleep humming to herself an air from an old-fashioned opera.
Hermann awakes her. She is so terrified that she dies suddenly, without
having revealed her secret. Liza appears, and can no longer conceal from
herself that Hermann only made love to her in order to carry out his mad
scheme.
Third act. Fifth scene. Evening. The barracks. Hermann alone in his
quarters is haunted by remorse. In his terror he rushes from the room,
but is met on the threshold by the apparition of the Countess showing
him the three cards. Sixth scene. Liza is waiting for Hermann near the
Winter Canal. Midnight strikes, and Liza in despair is about to do away
with herself when he appears on the scene. At the sight of her his
madness subsides, and he thinks only of his love for her. But he soon
begins to rave about the three cards, and no longer recognises Liza. In
despair she throws herself into the Neva. Seventh scene. Hermann at the
gambling tables. He wins on the first two cards shown him by the ghost
of the Countess. When it comes to the third card no one will venture to
stake against him except Prince Yeletsky. Instead of the expected ace,
Hermann turns up the queen of spades, and loses all his winnings. The
apparition of the Countess appears to him once more, and he stabs
himself in a fit of madness.
8. _Iolanthe._ The blind daughter of King René of Provence lives among
the Vosges Mountains under the care of her nurse Martha and her husband
Bertrand. In order that she may not realise her blindness, the King has
forbidden the word “light” to be used in her presence. The girl is sad
without knowing why. Her friends bring her flowers and try to amuse her,
but in vain. She falls asleep in the garden, and is carried into the
castle by her nurse. The King arrives, accompanied by the famous Moorish
physician, Ebn-Khakya. The latter says he must see Iolanthe, even in her
sleep, before he can pronounce an opinion as to her sight. After a time
he informs the King that she can only be cured by a great desire to see;
therefore she must be made conscious of her condition. The King refuses
to follow this advice. Robert, Duke of Burgundy, and the Knight, de
Vaudemont, come by accident to the castle. The former has been betrothed
from childhood to Iolanthe, and is now on his way to King René’s court
in order to woo his future bride. He has never seen her, and is in no
hurry to wed. They see the notice which warns them that it is death to
enter the castle grounds. But Vaudemont catches a glimpse of the maiden
asleep on the terrace, and is spell-bound. Robert tries to make him
leave these haunts of witchcraft, but he refuses, and the Duke goes to
summon his men in order that he may carry off his friend by force. A
duet between Vaudemont and Iolanthe. He does not realise her blindness
until she asks him, “What is light?” He breaks through the atmosphere of
secrecy in which she lives. She knows she is blind and longs for light.
King René is horror-stricken, but Ebn-Khakya reminds him that now her
sight may be restored. To stimulate her desire, René declares Vaudemont
must be put to death unless her blindness is cured. Iolanthe is prepared
to undergo any pain to save Vaudemont, whom she loves. The physician
leads her away. Robert of Burgundy returns with his men. He recognises
King René, and begs to be freed from his obligation to marry his
daughter. The King consents, and promises Iolanthe’s hand to Vaudemont.
Her girl friends arrive on the scene and announce that the cure is
successful. Iolanthe appears with bandaged eyes. Ebn-Khakya takes off
the handkerchief, and her sight is restored. The opera concludes with a
hymn of thanksgiving.
APPENDIX C
EXTRACTS FROM GERMAN PRESS NOTICES DURING TCHAIKOVSKY’S TOURS ABROAD IN
1888 AND 1889
LEIPZIG “SIGNALE”
“_January_, 1888.
“So far we have only become acquainted with three or four works by Peter
Tchaikovsky, a follower of the Neo, or young, Russian school of ‘storm
and stress’ composers, and these works, to speak frankly, have not won
our sympathies; not because the composer is lacking in talent and skill,
but because the manner in which he employs his gifts is repellent to us.
Equally frankly we are ready to confess that we went to hear the Suite
(op. 43) included in this programme, somewhat in fear and trembling,
being prepared for all kinds of monstrosities, distortions, and
repulsiveness. But it turned out otherwise.... The Fugue and
Introduction at the beginning of the Suite bore honourable witness to
the composer’s contrapuntal science; of the other movements--the
Divertimento, Intermezzo, Marche miniature, and Gavotte--the march seems
least worthy of praise, for it merely recalls the tea-caddy-decoration
style of art applied to music, and rather spoils than enhances the work.
“The composer, who conducted his Suite, must have been equally pleased
with the way in which it was played and the reception accorded by the
public. For the Gewandhaus audience, in recalling him _twice_, paid Herr
Tchaikovsky a compliment rarely bestowed on any but a few of the most
prominent composers of the day. He will carry away the impression that
there is no question of Russophobia among _musical_ people in Leipzig.
“E. BERNSDORF.”
“MUSIKALISCHES WOCHENBLATT,” NO. 3, JAHRGANG XIX
“_January_ 12_th_, 1888.
“_Leipzig._ The first week of the New Year was really rich in
interesting musical events. At the twelfth Subscription Concert Herr
Tchaikovsky conducted his orchestral Suite (op. 43).... Undoubtedly the
choice of this work was not calculated to display the composer to the
Gewandhaus audience in his full creative strength. The Suite opens with
a very promising Fugue, cleverly and effectively worked out, and
continues very passably well with a Divertimento and an Intermezzo, two
movements which are not profound, but possess much charm of sonority.
The last two movements--Marche miniature and Gavotte--deteriorate so
distinctly into a mere pattern of sounds, that it is impossible to
derive from them any real artistic enjoyment. The sister work, of which
Siloti gave several movements last season, is far stronger and more
original. Still less can op. 43 be compared with the two chamber works
played at the concert of the Liszt-Verein: the deeply reflective Trio
dedicated to the memory of Nicholas Rubinstein, and the Quartet,
delightful in every movement, but wonderful as regards the Andante....
The Liszt-Verein presented Herr Tchaikovsky with a splendid
laurel-wreath.”
“NEUE ZEITSCRIFT FUR MUSIK,” NO. 2
“LEIPZIG, _January_ 11_th_, 1888.
“Besides the exhaustively developed Fugue, which displays great
contrapuntal skill and sureness, all the rest is of second-rate musical
interest. We feel this the more strongly because the composer has been
impolitic enough to pad out his fleeting ideas into pretentious
movements of a quarter of an hour’s duration. What is the use of a
monotonous _fugato_ which comes into the Introduction _before_ the Fugue
itself? In the remaining movements we are conscious that the music has a
‘society tone,’ which finds expression in a pleasant conversational
style: it has an aroma of Bizet, Délibes, and Co., and is sometimes
reminiscent of the heroes of French Grand Opera and sometimes of Wagner.
Naturally such methods only produce a frivolous eclecticism that can
lead to no lasting results. Besides its aimless length--forty-five
minutes--this Suite impresses us most by its evidences of submission to
the shallow tastes of the hour. Here Tchaikovsky is posing too much in
the part of Proteus; consequently he is not all that he _can be_.