Tchaikowsky and His Orchestral Music 7

Tchaikowsky and His Orchestral Music 7

SYMPHONY IN B MINOR, NO. 6, OPUS 74 (_Pathetic_)

 

First drafts of a sixth symphony—not the _Pathetic_—were made by

Tschaikowsky on his return trip from America in the late spring of

1891. Dissatisfied with the way the new score was shaping up, he tore

it up and congratulated himself on his “admirable and irrevocable

determination” to do so. It is not till February, 1893, that first

mention is made of a fresh start on a sixth symphony. “I am now wholly

occupied with the new work,” he writes excitedly to his brother Anatol.

“It is hard for me to tear myself from it. I believe it comes into

being as the best of my works. I must finish it as soon as possible,

for I have to wind up a lot of affairs....” Subsequent events were to

give the last sentence of this letter a sinister note of prophesy. Like

Mozart writing the _Requiem Mass_ on his deathbed, Tschaikowsky seemed

to be defying some unfriendly fate to stop him in the midst of his

great symphony.

 

There was to be a program to this symphony, a mysterious, profoundly

personal program. But Tschaikowsky would never tell the world what

it was. “Let them guess who can,” he challenged. Amid the beautiful

natural scenery of Klin, near Moscow, Tschaikowsky worked at his

symphony. Curiously enough, his mood was bright and cheerful for a

change. Early in October he left for Moscow to attend a funeral. There

he met his friend Kashkin and together they talked jovially of life

and death. Tschaikowsky was in excellent spirits and Kashkin assured

him that he would outlive them all. Tschaikowsky laughed, and talked

excitedly about his new symphony, how he was satisfied with the first

three movements, how the finale still needed tinkering.

 

At length he was in St. Petersburg again. The day of the première of

his symphony was approaching. Rehearsals were begun and Tschaikowsky

soon found reason to grow morose and pessimistic again. He had counted

on the musicians reacting warmly to this new music of his, but he

began to notice cool faces, indifferent glances, and—horror of

horrors—yawns. This was too much for the hypersensitive Tschaikowsky.

He felt his hands suddenly become lifeless, his mind lose its

alertness. His confidence ebbed from him. To spare the men any further

boredom he cut short the rehearsal. Still, he knew he had written

his greatest symphony. At the première of October 28th, the audience

received the new symphony coolly, and it was not till shortly after

Tschaikowsky’s death that it began to make a mighty, overpowering

impression on listeners wherever it was played.

 

But the symphony had been baptized without a name. Tschaikowsky felt

the term “No. 6” was too bald and lonely a title for it. “Programme

Symphony” was also ruled out, for the good reason that he refused to

divulge the “program.” His brother Modeste suggested “Tragic,” but

Tschaikowsky rejected that too. When Modeste left him, he went on

casting about for a title. In a flash it came to him. He rushed back

to his brother. “Peter,” he exclaimed; “I have it! Why not call it the

‘Pathetic’ symphony.” Tschaikowsky pounced on the proposal eagerly:

“Splendid, Modi, bravo—_Pathetic_!” he shouted. In his brother’s

presence Tschaikowsky wrote on the score the name by which the symphony

has since been known. Most programs, however, give the title in its

French form, _Symphonie Pathétique_.

 

Shortly after the conversation with his brother, Tschaikowsky attended

a performance of Ostrowsky’s play, _A Warm Heart_. Later he went

backstage to pay his respects to the leading actor, Warlamoff. The

talk somehow turned to spiritualism, and again Tschaikowsky showed

a lighthearted mood. When Warlamoff laughingly ridiculed “these

abominations which remind one of death,” Tschaikowsky agreed jovially.

“There is plenty of time before we have to reckon with this snub-nosed

horror. It will not come to snatch us off just yet! _I feel that I

shall live a long time!_” Five days later, Peter Ilyitch Tschaikowsky,

generally regarded as Russia’s greatest composer, was dead, one of

the many victims of the fearful cholera epidemic then raging in St.

Petersburg.

 

If Tschaikowsky followed a definite emotional or philosophical program

in the _Pathetic_ symphony, the key to it died with him. Had he lived,

the chances are he would have divulged it, since he was not by nature

a secretive, unconfiding man. However, many have probed the symphony’s

content and concluded it harbored a message of impending death. Yet

Kashkin, Tschaikowsky’s close friend, interpreted the fierce energy of

the third movement and the abysmal sorrow of the Finale “in the broader

light of a national or historical significance.” He refused to narrow

down the scope of the symphony to a merely personal experience.

 

“If the last movement is intended to be prophetic, it is surely of

things vaster and issues more fatal than are contained in a purely

personal apprehension of death,” he said. “It speaks, rather, of

_une lamentation large et souffrance inconnue_—a large lamentation

and unknown suffering. It seems to set the seal of finality on all

human hopes. Even if we eliminate the merely subjective interest, this

autumnal inspiration of Tschaikowsky’s, in which we hear the _whirling

of the perished leaves of hope_, still remains the most profoundly

stirring of his works.”

 

I think we may safely agree with Kashkin’s judgment, at the same time

reserving the right to read into this monumental dirge, for such it

unmistakably is, our own individual sense of its profoundly moving

theme of tragic resignation. That Tschaikowsky left it as a testament

of disillusion and futility is likely. Yet no one can miss the fine

vein of tenderness and the flashes of defiance recurring through it.

Few artists have bequeathed the world such a candid, soul-searing

self-portrait.

 

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

 

 

COMPLETE LIST OF RECORDINGS

BY THE

PHILHARMONIC-SYMPHONY SOCIETY OF NEW YORK

 

 

COLUMBIA RECORDS

 

LP—Also available on Long Playing Microgroove Recordings as well as on

the conventional Columbia Masterworks.

 

 

_Under the Direction of Bruno Walter_

 

BARBER—Symphony No. 1, Op. 9

BEETHOVEN—Concerto for Violin, Cello, Piano and Orchestra in C major

(with J. Corigliano, L. Rose and W. Hendl)—LP

BEETHOVEN—Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major (“Emperor”) (with Rudolf

Serkin, piano)—LP

BEETHOVEN—Concerto in D major for Violin and Orchestra (with Joseph

Szigeti)—LP

BEETHOVEN—Symphony No. 1 in C major, Op. 21—LP

BEETHOVEN—Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major (“Eroica”)—LP

BEETHOVEN—Symphony No. 5 in C minor—LP

BEETHOVEN—Symphony No. 8 in F major—LP

BEETHOVEN—Symphony No. 9 in D minor (“Choral”) (with Elena Nikolaidi,

contralto, and Raoul Jobin, tenor)—LP

BRAHMS—Song of Destiny (with Westminster Choir)—LP

DVORAK—Slavonic Dance No. 1

DVORAK—Symphony No. 4 in G Major—LP

MAHLER—Symphony No. 4 in G major (with Desi Halban, soprano)—LP

MAHLER—Symphony No. 5 in C-sharp minor

MENDELSSOHN—Concerto in E minor (with Nathan Milstein, violin)—LP

MENDELSSOHN—Scherzo (from Midsummer Night’s Dream)

MOZART—Cosi fan Tutti—Overture

MOZART—Symphony No. 41 in C major (“Jupiter”), K. 551—LP

SCHUBERT—Symphony No. 7 in C major—LP

SCHUMANN, R.—Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major (“Rhenish”)—LP

SMETANA—The Moldau (“Vltava”)—LP

STRAUSS, J.—Emperor Waltz