I. Andante; Allegro con anima
II. Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza
III. Valse (Allegro moderato)
IV. Finale (Andante maestoso; allegro vivace)
Tchaikovsky was singularly reticent in his letters concerning the Fifth
symphony, but who can refrain from thinking with Ernest Newman that this
symphony was written to a programme; that the work “embodies an
emotional sequence of some kind”? There is the tread of inexorable fate;
this tread disturbs the beauty of the _andante_; it checks the forced
gayety of the dancers in the waltz, and is the triumphant spirit in the
_finale_ something more than a heroic defiance of the inevitable, a
brave stand before the approach of death?
We are interested in the woe of Canio or of the Navarraise; we are moved
by the infinite sadness of Mélisande; we understand the tragedy in the
humble home on Montmartre and the agony of Rigoletto. We endure the
spectacle of the anguish of these men and women on the stage, applaud
and go comfortably to bed. Tchaikovsky’s music awakens in the breast the
haunting, unanswerable questions of life and death that concern us
directly and personally.
* * *
About the end of April, 1888, Tchaikovsky took possession of his country
house at Frolovskoe, which had been made ready for him, when he was at
Paris and London, by his servant Alexis. Frolovskoe is a picturesque
place on a wooded hill on the way from Moscow to Klin. The house was
simple. “Here he [Tchaikovsky] could be alone,”—we quote from Mrs.
Newmarch’s translation into English of Modeste Tchaikovsky’s life of
Peter,—“free from summer excursionists, to enjoy the little garden (with
its charming pool and tiny islet) fringed by the forest, behind which
the view opened out upon a distant stretch of country—upon that homely,
unassuming landscape of Central Russia which Tchaikovsky preferred to
all the sublimities of Switzerland, the Caucasus, and Italy. Had not the
forest been gradually exterminated, he would never have quitted
Frolovskoe, for, although he only lived there for three years, he became
greatly attached to the place. A month before his death, traveling from
Klin to Moscow, he said, looking out at the churchyard of Frolovskoe: ‘I
should like to be buried there.’”
On June 22 he wrote to Mme von Meck: “Now I shall work my hardest. I am
exceedingly anxious to prove to myself, as to others, that I am not
played out as a composer.... Have I told you that I intend to write a
symphony? The beginning was difficult; but now inspiration seems to have
come. However, we shall see.”
In July, Tchaikovsky received a letter from an American manager who
offered him 25,000 dollars for a concert tour of three months. The sum
seemed incredible to the composer: “Should this tour really take place,
I could realize my long-cherished wish to become a landowner.” On August
6 he wrote to Mme von Meck: “When I am old and past composing, I shall
spend the whole of my time in growing flowers. I have been working with
good results. I have orchestrated half the symphony. My age—although I
am not very old [he was then forty-eight]—begins to tell on me. I become
very tired, and I can no longer play the pianoforte or read at night as
I used to do.” On August 26 he wrote to her: “I am not feeling well, ...
but I am so glad that I have finished the symphony that I forget my
physical troubles.... In November I shall conduct a whole series of my
works in St. Petersburg, at the Philharmonic, and the new symphony will
be one of them.”
The Fifth symphony was performed for the first time at St. Petersburg,
November 17, 1888. The composer conducted. The audience was pleased, but
the reviews in the newspapers were not very favorable. On November 24 of
the same year, Tchaikovsky conducted the symphony again at a concert of
the Musical Society.
In December, 1888, he wrote to Mme von Meck: “After two performances of
my new symphony in St. Petersburg and one in Prague, I have come to the
conclusion that it is a failure. There is something repellent, something
superfluous, patchy, and insincere, which the public instinctively
recognizes. It was obvious to me that the ovations I received were
prompted more by my earlier work, and that the symphony itself did not
really please the audience. The consciousness of this brings me a sharp
twinge of self-dissatisfaction. Am I really played out, as they say? Can
I merely repeat and ring the changes on my earlier idiom? Last night I
looked through _our_ symphony No. 4. What a difference! How immeasurably
superior it is! It is very, very sad!” He was cheered by news of the
success of the symphony in Moscow.
At the public rehearsal in Hamburg, the symphony pleased the musicians;
there was real enthusiasm.
Tchaikovsky wrote after the concert to Davidov: “The Fifth symphony was
magnificently played and I like it far better now, after having held a
bad opinion of it for some time. Unfortunately, the Russian press
continues to ignore me. With the exception of my nearest and dearest, no
one will ever hear of my successes.”
Modeste Tchaikovsky is of the opinion that the Fifth symphony was a long
time in making its way chiefly on account of his brother’s inefficiency
as a conductor.
The _andante_, E minor, 4-4 theme of the symphony, which occurs in the
four movements, typical of fate, “the eternal note of sadness,” of what
you will, is given at the very beginning to the clarinets, and the
development serves as an approach to the _allegro_. The principal theme
of the first movement, _allegro con anima_, 6-8, is announced by
clarinet and bassoon. It is developed elaborately and at great length.
This theme is said to have been derived from a Polish folk song. The
second theme in B minor is given to the strings. The recapitulation
begins with the restatement of the principal theme by the bassoon. There
is a long _coda_, which finally sinks to a _pianissimo_ and passes to
the original key.
The second movement has been characterized as a romance, firmly knit
together in form, and admitting great freedom of interpretation, as the
qualification, “_con alcuna licenza_,” of the _andante cantabile_
indicates. After a short introduction in the deeper strings, the horn
sings the principal melody. The oboe gives out a new theme, which is
answered by the horn, and this theme is taken up by violins and violas.
The principal theme is heard from the violoncellos, after which the
clarinet sings still another melody, which is developed to a climax, in
which the full orchestra thunders out the chief theme of the symphony,
the theme of bodement. The second part of the movement follows in a
general way along the lines already established. There is another
climax, and again is heard the impressive theme of the symphony.
The third movement is a waltz _allegro moderato_, A major, 3-4. The
structure is simple, and the development of the first theme, _dolce con
grazia_, given to violins against horns, bassoons, and string
instruments, is natural. Toward the very end clarinets and bassoons
sound, as afar off, the theme of the symphony: the gayety is over.
There is a long introduction, _andante maestoso_, E major, 4-4, to the
_finale_, a development of the somber and dominating theme. This
_andante_ is followed by an _allegro vivace_, E minor, with the first
theme given to the strings, and a more tuneful theme assigned first to
the wood-wind and afterward to the violins. The development of the
second theme contains illusions to the chief theme of the symphony.
Storm and fury; the movement comes to a halt; the _coda_ begins in E
major, the _allegro vivace_ increases to a _presto_. The second theme of
the _finale_ is heard, and the final climax contains a reminiscence of
the first theme of the first movement.
Some find pleasure in characterizing Tchaikovsky’s symphonies as suites;
Dvořák is said to have made this criticism. But the Fifth symphony
escapes this charge, for objectors admit that in this work the composer
made his nearest approach to true symphonic form—in spite of the fact
that there is no repetition of the first part of the first _allegro_,
and a waltz movement takes the place of the _scherzo_.