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Piotr ilyich tchaikovsky


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Died November 6, 1893, in St. Petersburg

During the year 1892, Tchaikovsky embarked on a European conducting tour that was cut short due to homesickness and a general feeling of depression. It was at this time that the composer devised a plan for a "Programme Symphony"; this however, was not realized and was temporarily abandoned in favor of a new Symphony in E-flat major - what is now referred to as "Symphony No. 7," a work which was never completed and which has been somewhat reconstructed from the material employed in the Piano Concerto No. 3. The following year, on February 15, 1893, the composer began what was to become his valedictory work, the Symphony No. 6 in B minor, Op. 74 ("Pathétique"). Tchaikovsky admitted that there was a program - not a specific story, but certainly an idea - behind the music of the Sixth Symphony; nonetheless, he refused to tell what it was, only saying, "Let him guess it who can."

There have been plenty of guessers as to the composer's programmatic intentions, most of them guided by the work's nickname, "Pathétique." And even though the appellation was attached, not by the composer but by his brother Modest after the work's first performance, it may indeed be surmised to be indicative of its hidden program. The answer may have finally arrived in the middle of our century when a sheet of music paper was discovered among some sketches by the composer. In Tchaikovsky's own handwriting, it read: "The ultimate essence of the plan of the symphony is LIFE. First movement - all impulsive passion, confidence, thirst for activity. Must be short. (Finale DEATH - result of collapse.) Second movement love; third disappointments; fourth ends dying away (also short)." Through research it has been established that the sheet comes from 1892, and it is in all likelihood, the aforementioned abandoned plan for a symphony. By 1893, the plan was much modified; among these modifications was Tchaikovsky's decision that the finale would be a long-drawn Adagio. Another modification seems to be the expression of "disappointment" in the second movement as opposed to the third. These disappointments may well have stemmed from two events in the composer's life: the failed and tormented marriage to Antonina Milyukova, a union into which he was goaded, despite self- awareness of his sexual orientation, by her repeated threats of suicide; the other in Nadezhda von Meck's inexplicable withdrawal as the composer's long-time patroness, correspondent and confidante.

Although it should not be assumed that Tchaikovsky's Pathétique Symphony was originally intended as a swan song, it indeed serves this function as it was the last work he wrote (works with opus numbers higher than 74, were actually composed at an earlier date and published posthumously). The Symphony received its premiere performance on October 28, 1893, with the composer conducting the Kirov Orchestra in St. Petersburg. Nine days later, the composer died, presumably by self-inflicted arsenic poisoning (not by drinking unboiled water and thereby contracting cholera, as has been popularly expounded); this, apparently, he did at the behest of a court of honor to avert a scandal involving the nephew of a Russian aristocrat, thus avoiding the tarnishing of his "school uniform."

The Pathétique Symphony is Tchaikovsky's most profoundly pessimistic work; it begins as if enshrouded in darkness and deepest despair and in this same tone it ends. The first movement is ushered in by a somber Adagio introduction. From the lowest depths of the orchestral palette, a solo bassoon intones a sad theme, the first four notes of which foreshadow the motif of the main theme of the first movement proper; this creates from the start the aura of melancholy that is so characteristic of the work as a whole. A contrasting, tender second theme is soon heard on the muted strings, eventually leading into the Allegro non troppo that constitutes the main body of the movement. The development is concerned for the most part with the main theme; as the tempo quickens the theme is tossed about from one instrumental choir to the other becoming successively more fragmented. In due time the emotional intensity reaches its peak, but the movement ends in the same grief-stricken mood with which it commenced, including a quotation from the music of the Russian Orthodox Requiem. The coda is notable for its masterful transformation of the stormy first theme into a lyrical one; a solemn cadence for the brass over falling pizzicato scales on the strings brings the movement to its resolution.

Just as one of the middle movements in the composer's preceding Symphony is made up of a waltz, so is the second movement of his Sixth; however, by casting this - essentially - Scherzo movement in the asymmetrical 5/4 meter, and thus impeding the flow of the normally jovial dance, this particular waltz acquires a curious limp which lends an air of idiosyncratically serene melancholy. The principal theme of the Allegro con grazia section is a song-like melody announced by the cellos. Marked con dolcezza e flebile ("sweetly and plaintively") the Trio section introduces a new theme in the violins; here the composer exploits some of the harmonic tension exhibited in the outer movements by pitting the theme against an incessantly beating pedal point in the timpani, bassoons and basses. After a return to the waltz section, a coda, combining the theme of the waltz with that of the Trio, concludes the movement.

Coming in the unusual form of a march, the third movement was unprecedented; Gustav Mahler was to follow this example in his own symphonies a decade later. Bearing the tempo marking of Allegro molto vivace, the movement begins softly as a busy triplet figure is heard alternating between strings and woodwinds. This leads to the march figure that grows stronger at each moment until the ever-whirling figuration that began the movement disappears and the triumphant theme is heard unimpeded in the entire orchestra. Angry beats from the percussion underline and strengthen its progress. In contrast to the preceding movement, here the composer seems to be recollecting past moments of joy and glory; however, towards the end of the movement these triumphs and joyful remembrances appear to be marred by the adversities of life as the persistent march, in its exultant brass sonorities, is heard against conflicting scale passages between woodwinds and strings. The intensity of this conflict increases to the very end.

The last movement, once again is not the traditional type of brilliant finale; the requiem-like manner of this concluding Adagio lamentoso seems to point to the finality of death. The strings announce the despairing first theme immediately. The nobility of the consoling second theme that is presented by violins and violas, over a syncopated horn figure, contrasts the painful chord progression of this theme. The themes seem to be of opposite natures yet they bear close musical relation, being originated from the same basic thought. These themes are worked up to an enormous climax which eventually recedes until a fateful clash of the gong brings back the second theme; this time, however, the once consoling theme is now cast in the sad minor mode, thus extinguishing the last ray of light and hope in the proceedings. For its final measures, the Symphony returns to the somber abyss of despair from which it initially emerged, reflecting that same mood of comfortless melancholy in which Tchaikovsky found himself at the end of his life - one rich in success but full of pain, trials and tribulations.

© 1996 Columbia Artists Management Inc.

Suite from The Firebird (1911; Revised 1919 and 1945)
IGOR STRAVINSKY

Born June 17, 1882 in Oranienbaum [now Lomonosov]

Died April 6, 1971 in New York
In 1909 the now-legendary Russian impresario Serge Diaghilev closed the first Parisian season of his Ballets Russes nearly facing bankruptcy, despite the popularity enjoyed by Russian art in Paris in the first two decades of the twentieth century. The season had included the “Polovtsian Dances” from Borodin's Prince Igor, Glinka's opera Russlan and Ludmilla, and Rimsky-Korsakov's Maid of Pskov, along with a number of ballets, including Les sylphides, Le pavillon d'Armide and Cléopâtre. The operas, which were quite authentic in their Russianess, were too expensive to be lucrative. On the other hand, the ballets proved more financially viable. The critics, however, pronounced that in order for the ballets to have any reason to be in the Parisian milieu they would have to be more authentically Russian - which really meant that they had to be far more exotic than the French fare that had been presented on that first season. The reality, however, was that an "authentic" Russian balletic repertoire did not exist at the time. For the next season, Diaghilev produced Michel Fokine's choreography of Rimsky- Korsakov's tone poem Scheherazade and, determined to fill this gap, he decided to start commissioning the required repertoire.

In 1909, Fokine created one of the most spectacular mythical scenarios ever conceived for the stage. This scenario, the first work that Diaghilev commissioned for his Ballets Russes, ingeniously combined two tales into one, bringing together for the first time two of Russian folklore's most exotic and fanciful creatures: the ogre Katschei the Immortal, and the Firebird. After four different composers - Nikolai Tcherepnin, Anatoly Liadov, Alexander Glazunov and Nikolai Sokolov - rejected the commission for various differing reasons and circumstances, Diaghilev decided to take a risk by approaching the 27 year old Igor Stravinsky, whose orchestral piece, Fireworks, had greatly impressed him the year before, but who until then had written little else to suggest that he could handle so ambitious a project. Although Stravinsky felt a little daunted by the task at hand and the time constraints under which he would have to work, he set himself determinedly to work, scene by scene, in close collaboration with Fokine who provided positive criticism and invaluable advice. After strenuous labor on the score during the winter of 1909-10, The Firebird was completed. Diaghilev's gamble paid off handsomely; the ballet was an immediate success upon its premiere on June 25, 1910, at the Paris Opera, conducted by Gabriel Pierné. The choreographer, his wife Vera, and Tamara Karsavina performed the lead roles. Not only did The Firebird become one of the company's most strikingly original and famous repertory works, but it also catapulted the composer to fame and glory overnight.

In 1911, Stravinsky wrote a suite for full orchestra based on scenes from The Firebird for concert performance. This Suite was published the following year, and is known as the "1912" version. In 1919 Stravinsky revised the Suite, restoring some of the connective material between movements; it is this version that is heard in this performance.

Like his Scherzo fantastique and Fireworks before it, The Firebird bears the marked influence of the composer's teacher Rimsky-Korsakov, as well as that of Alexander Scriabin. Nonetheless, the music of The Firebird is highly original for its time and set the style for several of Stravinsky's early works; it remains one of the composer's most evocative scores.

In Fokine's scenario for The Firebird, the hero, Ivan Tsarevitch (the son of the Tsar), has gone on a nocturnal hunting trip, when he encounters "a fabulous bird with plumage of fire, plucking golden fruit from a silver tree." The prince captures the Firebird but, after hearing its pleas for freedom, releases it. As a reward the Firebird gives Ivan a magic golden feather. The music of the Firebird's dance is wonderfully evocative of the actual visual impression.

Ivan, now left alone in the garden of a mysterious castle, observes thirteen enchanted princesses, dancing and playing with golden fruit. In the manner of a poignant folk song, the swaying music is ineffably graceful and dignified. The maidens warn Ivan of the terrible monster Kastchei, who delights in casting a spell over wandering strangers. When Ivan bravely decides to enter the castle, he is confronted with the grotesquely deformed subjects of the ogre. Kastchei himself steps forth and attempts to bewitch Ivan, but the glowing feather protects the Prince. The Firebird appears to drive the ogre and his ghastly creatures into a frantic dance, which leaves them exhausted.

The secret of Kastchei's immortality is then disclosed to Ivan by the Firebird: the demon's soul rests in an egg hidden somewhere in the castle. When Ivan finds it, with the help of the Firebird, he throws it to the ground, thus destroying the horrible monster. Kastchei's infernal dance is followed by the lovely Berceuse ("Lullaby"), which is played for the magic sleep that envelops the thirteenth princess, Ivan's chosen one. The melody is inescapably Russian, yet tinged with harmonies from the music of Debussy, who had a great influence on Stravinsky's early work. This music merges quietly with the Finale, in which the knights return to flesh and blood from their spell of stone, the princesses are set free, and Ivan wins the hand of his beloved. Marvelously expressive of joy and irresistible strength are the closing measures, in which grandiose rising triads in the brass, first detach themselves from, and then finally blend with the bright tonality of B major.

© 1995 Columbia Artists Management Inc.



Symphony No. 2 in c minor, Op. 17 (“Little Russian”)

PIOTR ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY

Born May 7, 1840, in Votkinsk, Russia

Died November 6, 1893, in St. Petersburg



Throughout his creative career, Tchaikovsky’s inspiration went through extreme cycles, tied to his frequent bouts of deep depression and self-doubt. It was in his symphonies where he most overtly expressed his emotions. Symphony No. 2 is an exception. Composed in 1872 at a time that his social life was flourishing and his optimism was at its peak. He rubbed shoulders with the élite of Moscow’s literature and theatre. A friend recalled Tchaikovsky as a prankster, lavishly greeting total strangers on the street, improvising jesting verses in a monastery, or dancing and singing the mazurka from Glinka’s A Life for the Tsar in a railway carriage, to the shock of some lady passengers.
Tchaikovsky was an ardent nationalist whose tremendous melodic gift enabled him to develop his own themes. Despite the many folk elements in most of his symphonies, he only occasionally used borrowed melodies. He also did not espouse the nationalist movement in music, symbolized by such composers as Mussorgsky, Borodin, Balakirev and Rimsky-Korsakov. Instead he used his symphonies as a vehicle to express his personal anguish and depressive moods.
Symphony No. 2 is an exception. Composed in 1872 and extensively revised in 1879, it incorporates three folk songs originating in what the Russians called Little Russia but called by the local inhabitants (and everyone else) Ukraine. Tchaikovsky spent the summer of 1872 at his sister’s estate near Kiev, where he heard the local songs in the streets of the small town. The title “Little Russian” was not coined by the composer but by a friend, although Tchaikovsky approved of it. Also uncharacteristic of Tchaikovsky's other symphonies, the general mood of the work is mostly upbeat.
The first movement opens and closes with the melancholy notes derived from the song “Down by the Mother Volga,” played on a solo French horn. The main theme of the allegro is really a short motive that gradually emerges as the section progresses. It is the composer’s own, but retains the modes and spirit of Russian folk music. After a lyrical second theme, Tchaikovsky brings back the "Mother Volga" theme in a vigorous transformation.
The second movement, marked Andantino marziale is a slow march that Tchaikovsky took from his discarded opera Undine, which had been rejected by the Imperial Opera Company of St. Petersburg and eventually destroyed by the composer. A pianissimo ostinato on the timpani accompanies the entire movement. The central part of the movement is another folk tune. The Scherzo third movement is highly chromatic and has tremendous rhythmic drive. The phrases are dovetailed, creating a tense and unstable meter. The Trio for the woodwinds is in duple time, in contrast with the rapid triple meter of the Scherzo.
It is in the fourth movement that Tchaikovsky showed his true nationalistic colors. It is an exuberant orchestral display, based on the Ukrainian folk song “The Crane.” But the grand orchestral fanfare that opens the movement exploits the fact that the folksong begins like the Russian national anthem, "God save the Tsar." It then turns into a rapid dance with the accent on the off beat. The dance begins pianissimo, gradually adding instruments. The second theme for the strings provides a contrast, and Tchaikovsky goes on to combine the two themes in the development. A stroke from a great gong heralds the coda and a proper "imperial" sounding finish. This was the movement that the composer liked best and garnered accolades from his colleagues of the Russian nationalist movement.

Suite No. 4, Op 61. “Mozartiana”
PIOTR ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY
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