Notes by Herbert Weinstock
Author of “Tchaikovsky” and other
biographies and histories
Tchaikovsky was thirty-six when, in 1877, he met Tol-
stoy. Of one part of a concert given in the great novelist’s
honor, Tchaikovsky wrote in his diary: “Never in my
life have I felt so flattered and proud of my creative ability
as when Lev Tolstoy, sitting next to me, heard my an-
dante [the Andante Cantabile of the D Major String
Quartet, Op. 11] with tears coursing down his cheeks.”
Shortly after, Tchaikovsky began to compose his Fourth
Symphony, in F Minor (of his six symphonies, only the
Third is in a major key). On June 8, 1877, he wrote to
his “beloved” unmet friend and benefactress, Nadejda
von Meck, that he had completed the first draft of the
new symphony. On July 15, in a letter agreeing to Mme
von Meck’s request that she not be mentioned by name
in the dedication of “their” symphony, he told her that
it would be “Dedicated to My Best Friend.” He began to
orchestrate the work on August 12.
Meanwhile, on July 18, Tchaikovsky had committed
the awful blunder of marrying—partly out of pity, partly
out of a wish to protect himself from gossip—a neurotic
young conservatory student. As a direct result of that
misstep he tried to commit suicide, on about October 1,
by drowning, in the Moskva River. Not succeeding, he
went off to Western Europe, but was not soon well
enough, either mentally or physically, to return to work.
The orchestration of the Fourth Symphony was not fin-
ished until January 7, 1878, at San Remo. The day follow-
ing, in Milan, he bought a metronome in order to put
final tempo indications in the completed score.
On January 12, 1878, Tchaikovsky wrote to Nicholas
Rubinstein, who would conduct the first performance of
the new symphony: “The third part is all played pizzi-
cato. The faster the tempo, the better—but I’m not alto-
gether sure at how fast a tempo pizzicato can be played.”
He would, he said, gladly revise the metronome markings,
if necessary, in view of Rubinstein’s experience in con-
ducting the symphony. He told his publisher that he
demanded no royalties on the Fourth Symphony, but
asked that it be issued in a particularly handsome format
—toward which Mme von Meck contributed fifteen hun-
dred francs.
The Fourth Symphony, Op. 36, is in these movements:
I. Andante sostenuto; Moderato con anima in movi-
mento di valse; Moderato assai, quasi Andante; Allegro
con anima; II. Andantino in modo di canzona; Ill.
Scherzo: Allegro, pizzicato ostinato; IV. Finale: Allegro
con fuoco. The score calls for piccolo, two flutes, two
oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trum-
pets, three trombones, bass tuba, three kettledrums, bass
drum, cymbals, triangle and strings. It was played for the
first time in Moscow on February 22, 1878, with Rubin-
stein conducting. Indifferently received by its first audi-
ence, it was correspondingly neglected by the Moscow
critics. Its world career was initiated the following
December 7, when Eduard Napravnik conducted it in St.
Petersburg to a wildly enthusiastic audience and hysteri-
cally grateful press.
On March 1, 1878, Mme von Meck wrote Tchaikovsky
that his music went not to her head, but to her heart, and
asked if the Fourth Symphony had a program. In reply,
Tchaikovsky sent a very long letter, in which, before
analyzing the symphony’s emotional weather in some
detail, he said: “How can one express the indefinable
sensations that one experiences while composing an in-
strumental piece that has no definite subject? It is a purely
lyrical process. It is a musical confession of the soul,
which is full to the brim, and which, true to its nature,
unburdens itself through sounds just as a lyrical poet
expresses himself through poetry. The difference lies in
the fact that music has much richer resources of expres-
sion and is a more subtle medium into which to translate
the thousand shifting moments in the soul’s moods.”
The only more specific answer that Mme von Meck was
granted told her that the opening measures of the intro-
duction portrayed Fate. More revealing was a letter that
Tchaikovsky wrote to Sergei Taneyev early in April,
1878: “I wish no symphonic work to emanate from me
which has nothing to express and consists merely of
harmonies and a purposeless pattern of rhythms and
modulations. Of course my symphony is program music
—but it would be impossible to present the program in
words, .. .” ie &
Eleven years—which included the composition of
Manfred, a true program symphony that Tchaikovsky
did not number—were to elapse between the Fourth
Symphony and the Fifth. On May 30, 1888, he wrote to
Mme von Meck: “I am at last beginning, with difficulty,
to squeeze out a symphony from my bedulled brains.”
From about that time date the scribbled notes for this
symphony that were discovered later in his house at
Klin: “Program of the First Movement of the Symphony:
Introduction. Complete resignation before Fate, or, which
is the same, before the inscrutable predestination of Prov-
idence. Allegro 1. Murmurs, doubts, plaints, reproaches
... 2. Shall I throw myself into the embraces of Faith???
A wonderful program, if only I could carry it out.” On
June 22, Tchaikovsky wrote Mme von Meck that while
sketching out the E Minor Symphony, Op. 64, he found
himself missing the ease with which he had composed
earlier. By July 9, however, both the symphony and the
Hamlet fantasy-overture had been sketched out com-
pletely. He began to orchestrate the Fifth Symphony
before August 6 and completed it in three weeks. To
Mme von Meck word went forth, on August 26, that the
symphony was ready and seemed good to him. But his
opinion of it was to oscillate widely.
The Fifth Symphony was played for the first time when
Tchaikovsky conducted a program of the St. Petersburg
Philharmonic Society on November 17, 1888, a concert
that also included his Second Piano Concerto, with Vasily
Sapelnikov as soloist. He conducted it again at a concert
of the Russian Musical Society on November 24. On
December 14, he reported to Mme von Meck: “Having
played my new symphony twice in Petersburg and once
in Prague, I have come to the conclusion that it is not
successful. It contains something labored which audiences
recognize instinctively....I went through our symphony.
What a difference! How immeasurably better it is! This
is very, very sad!” But by March 17, 1889, Tchaikovsky
was telling her that the Fifth had won a great triumph
in Hannover: ‘Most pleasant of all is the fact that I no
longer find the symphony bad, and love it once again.”
The Fifth Symphony is divided thus: I. Andante;
Allegro con anima; II. Andante cantabile, con alcuna
licenza; Moderato con anima; Ill. Valse: Allegro mode-
rato; IV. Finale: Andante maestoso; Allegro vivace. The
orchestra called for is made up of three flutes (one inter-
changeable with piccolo), two oboes, two clarinets, two
bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones,
tuba, three kettledrums, and strings. It is dedicated to the
chairman of the board of directors of the Hamburg
Philharmonic Society, Theodor Ave-Lallemant.
In 1893, two years after his journey to America to
conduct at the opening of Carnegie Hall in New York,
Tchaikovsky turned for the last time to the symphonic
form. At Klin, on February 16, 1893, he began work on
his Sixth Symphony, in B Minor, Op. 74. One week later,
he wrote to “Bobyk” Davidov, the beloved nephew to
whom he would dedicate it: “As you know, I destroyed a
symphony that I had partially finished and orchestrated
last autumn. I acted wisely, for it contained but little that
really was good—a vacant pattern of sound. Just as I was
starting on my trip [on December 24, 1892, he had left
for Vienna, Salzburg and Prague], the idea for a new
symphony came to me. This time with a program, but a
program of a sort that remains enigmatic to everyone—
let them guess it who can. The work will be called A
Program Symphony (No. 6). The program is full of sub-
jective emotion. While I was composing it during my
trip, I frequently cried. [Havelock Ellis seems to have
made a brilliant, accurate guess when he called the Sixth
Symphony “The Homosexual Tragedy.” Now that I am
at home, I have settled down with such ardor to sketch
out the work that in less than four days I finished the
first movement, while the rest of the symphony is out-
lined clearly in my head. Much in the work will be novel
as regards form. For example, the finale will not be a
great allegro, but an adagio of considerable dimensions.
You can’t imagine the happiness that I experience over
the conviction that my time is not yet over... .”
Having traveled to England in late May, 1893, to re-
ceive an honorary degree from Cambridge University,
Tchaikovsky attended a Westminster Club dinner in
honor of Saint-Saéns and himself. Seated next to young
Walter Damrosch, he told the conductor about the new
symphony and asked him to be its first conductor in
America. Back in Klin, he began to orchestrate the sym-
phony on August 2; three weeks later he wrote to his
publisher that he had completed the finale. He felt no
such misgivings as had concerned him about the Fifth
Symphony. To “Bobyk” Davidov he wrote: “I love it as
I never have loved a single one of my offspring”; to his
publisher he reported: “On my honor, never in my life
have I been so pleased with myself, so proud, so happy in
the knowledge that I really have created something good.”
After some private and conservatory student readings,
the Sixth Symphony was played publicly for the first
time, with Tchaikovsky conducting the Russian Musical
Society of St. Petersburg, on October 28, 1893. It was
part of a program that also included the Karomzina Over-
ture of his friend Herman Laroche, his own First Piano
Concerto (with Adele aus der Ohe as soloist), dances
from Mozart's Idomeneo, and Liszt’s Spanish Rhapsody.
The next day, his brother Modest found him poring over
the score, uncertain as to what title to put on it. “Tragic
Symphony” was Modest’s suggestion, but Tchaikovsky
demurred. Modest left the room, but turned back with a
second suggestion: “Pathetic Symphony.” Tchaikovsky’s
reply was “Bravo, Modest, splendid! Pathetic!” Reporting
this moment, Modest added: “Then and there, in my
presence, he added to the score the title by which the
symphony always has been known.”
Eight days after that event (November 6, 1894), Tchai-
kovsky died of cholera. On November 18, Napravnik
included the ‘Pathetic’ Symphony in a program of the
Russian Musical Society, St. Petersburg; its success was
overwhelming and launched the Sixth Symphony on its
rapid conquest of the world. Back in New York, Walter
Damrosch, hearing of Tchaikovsky’s death, supposed that
the request the composer had made of him in London
would go unanswered. But to his astonishment, a short
time later he received the promised score and parts. Rush-
ing the “Pathetic” Symphony into rehearsal, Damrosch
gave its American premiére with the New York Sym-
phony Society on March 16, 1894.
The “Pathetic” Symphony has these movements: I.
Adagio; Allegro non troppo; II. Allegro con grazie; Il.
Allegro molto vivace; IV. Finale: Adagio lamentoso. It is
scored for three flutes (one interchangeable with piccolo),
two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two
trumpets, three trombones, bass tuba, three kettledrums,
ad libitum tamtam in the finale, and the traditional
strings. Of the unprecedented last movement of Tchai-
kovsky’s last symphony, Sir Donald Francis Tovey well
said: “The slow finale, with its complete sincerity of
despair, is a stroke of genius which solves all the artistic
problems that have proved most baffling to symphonic
writers since Beethoven.” And if something about the
Fifth Symphony, for all its effectiveness, rings not alto-
gether true, no doubt is possible about the Sixth: here,
indeed, we have “the complete sincerity of despair.”
One of the world’s foremost conductors,
Eugene Ormandy has been permanent conductor
of the Philadelphia Orchestra since 1936. He was
also conductor of the Minneapolis Symphony
Orchestra and has guest-conducted many impor-
tant orchestras throughout the United States and
Europe. The range and variety of Ormandy’s
musical taste are most impressive. A greatly
praised interpreter of the romantic and impres-
sionist composers, he is also an enkindling con-
ductor of contemporary music or brilliant
orchestral display pieces. He further has to his
credit an impressive number of first performances
of American and European composers.
Other albums by Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia
Orchestra you will enjoy:
Magic Fire Music—Wagner Favorites...
ML 6101/MS 6701"
Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker Ballet, Op. 71...
ML 6021/MS 6621*
Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade, Op. 35...
ML 5765/ MS 6365*
*Stereo
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