Ravinia 2023 Issue 5

no longer need lessons, especially lessons ex- pressed so sharply and in such a hostile man- ner.” Rubinstein tried to atone for his harsh- ness by offering to perform the concerto after extensive changes were made. Naturally, Tchaikovsky refused. “I won’t change a single note … and will print it exactly as it is now.” In his anger, Tchaikovsky withdrew the dedi- cation to Rubinstein. After considering Sergei Taneyev, a talented student at the conservato- ry, Tchaikovsky offered the concerto to the German pianist and conductor Hans von Bülow, who gave the world premiere at Bos- ton’s Music Hall on October 25, 1875. Rubin- stein eventually admitted his error in judg- ment and added the concerto to his repertoire. One can hardly fault Rubinstein for balking at the unconventional handling of concerto form. Within six measures of the introduc- tion, Tchaikovsky moves to a different key for a warm string theme accompanied by bound- ing chords in the piano. A choppy Ukrainian folk tune, which Tchaikovsky apparently heard performed by a blind “lyrical” street singer (referring to the Ukrainian lyre or relia , a type of hurdy-gurdy), serves as the first theme of the sonata portion. A gently syncopated melo- dy offers a new idea. Both themes are expand- ed and developed. The composer supplies an extended piano cadenza before the end. In the Andantino semplice , a Romantic melo- dy—the kind only Tchaikovsky could invent— emerges above quiet pizzicato chords. The mood changes for a scherzo-like theme, the French song “Il faut s’amuser, danser, et rire” (“He Must Have a Good Time, Dance, and Laugh”), which originated in the 1851 Parisian vaudeville La Corde sensible (Heartstrings) before gaining popularity in Russia. The del- icate opening melody returns. Yet another lively Ukrainian folksong, “Vydi, vydi, Ivan’ku” (“Come Out, Come Out, Ivan”), provides the finale’s opening theme. Boister- ous transitional material recalls the spirit of Cossack dance, and then the music becomes Nikolai Rubinstein (1872) more lyrical and expressive for the second theme, which might be derived from the Rus- sian folksong “Pojdu, pojdu, vo Car’-gorod” (“I’ll Go, I’ll Go, to the Tsar’s City”). These two themes return often, but in varied forms. Tchaikovsky concludes the concerto with a flashy coda. The Tempest Symphonic Fantasy, op. 18 Scored for two flutes and piccolo, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, two tenor trombones and bass trombone, tuba, timpani, cymbals, bass drum, and strings The esteemed music critic Vladimir Stasov and the younger composer Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky both attended the Imperial School of Jurisprudence, although 16 years apart. Their first reported meeting took place in December 1867 during Hector Ber- lioz’s second visit to Russia, sponsored by the composer Mily Balakirev, the figurehead of the progressive group of Russian composers known as “The Five.” Tchaikovsky again en- countered Stasov and members of The Five at a soirée held in the home of composer, orches- trator, and educator Nikolay Rimsky-Kor- sakov on January 7, 1873. On that occasion, Tchaikovsky presented the finale of his Sym- phony No. 2 (“Little Russian”), which earned universal praise, especially from Stasov. Recognizing the young composer’s artistic potential, Stasov challenged Tchaikovsky to write an orchestral overture based on a liter- ary source, suggesting three possibilities in a letter dated December 30, 1872: Sir Walter Scott’s romance novel Ivanhoe , Nikolay Go- gol’s historic novella Taras Bulba , or Wil- liam Shakespeare’s adventure play The Tem- pest . Tchaikovsky gravitated immediately to Shakespeare and adopted a scenario written by Stasov that determined the overall compo- sitional form: Starting with the sea , the inhabited island, the mighty and forbidding figure of the ma- gician Prospero , then switching to the grace- ful and womanly Miranda , rather like the primordial Eve, she has never laid eyes on any breed of man (besides Prospero), until struck by the tempest she is flung ashore with the handsome youth Ferdinand ; they fall in love with each other, and I think at this point in the first half of the overture there should be a wonderful and poetic motif, as Miranda gradually becomes more animated and leaves behind her childhood innocence to become a young woman in love. In the second half of the overture, her and Ferdinand’s passion should already be in full sail, as they embrace the fires of love … the enchanted spirit Ariel , and his chorus of elves. The overture ought to end by de- picting Prospero’s renunciation of his magic powers, the blessing of the young couple’s union, and the return to the mainland. The only remaining point of discussion was the tempest itself. Tchaikovsky questioned whether the music required an actual repre- sentation of a storm or whether the storm served as a backdrop to the musical action. Stasov responded “yes, yes, yes” and contin- ued, “I had thought of representing the sea twice: at the beginning and at the end.” That final detail decided, Tchaikovsky began composition on August 7, 1873, at Usovo, the estate of the amateur artist and writer Vladimir Shilovsky, who was away from the property at the time. This peaceful communion with na- ture accelerated the creative work: Tchaikovsky finished the sketches in 10 days, and he com- pleted the orchestration in September. Nikolai Rubinstein conducted the premiere of The Tempest: Symphonic Fantasy after Shake- speare, op. 18, at a concert of the Moscow Royal Music Society on December 19, 1873. The Society presented Tchaikovsky with an honorarium of 200 rubles. Stasov, the person responsible for the work’s very conception, was enthusiastic and complimentary—in his own irrepressibly critical way: “What an in- comparable piece! Of course, the storm itself is inconsequential and isn’t marked by any originality. Prospero is unremarkable—and finally, near the end, there is a very ordinary cadence just like something out of an Italian operatic finale—but there are three tiny blem- ishes. All the rest is wonder upon wonder!” Arias from Eugene Onegin , op. 24 Scored for two flutes and piccolo, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani, percussion, harp, and strings Alexander Pushkin’s verse novel Eugene Onegin (1833) remains a national treasure, one of the most revered works in the Russian language. The prospect of musical setting, an idea first borached by contralto Yelizaveta Lavrovskaya on May 29, 1877, both excited and intimidated Tchaikovsky. In elegant Vladimir Stasov by Ilya Repin (1853) language and opulent detail, the novel depicts the discontent and boredom, love and rejec- tion, and loss and despair rampant through- out the Russian countryside during the 1820s. For this reason, it has been described as the “encyclopedia of Russian life.” Its characters build on archetypes: an arrogant nobleman escaping the city; a young couple whose ro- mantic passion hurtles them uncontrollably into tragedy; and an intelligent, naive, and vulnerable 17-year-old ingénue. While the novel masterfully portrayed real life and the inner personalities of the characters, it lacked the intensity and action of other op- eratic subject matter. The composer’s brother Modest voiced his opposition. “Even if my opera is not stage-worthy,” Tchaikovsky re- sponded on June 15, “even if it has little action to offer, the point is that I am in love with the image of Tatyana; I am enchanted by Push- kin’s verses and am writing music to them be- cause that’s what I want to do. I am completely absorbed in the composition of my opera.” Tchaikovsky very quickly developed the op- eratic scenario and, in consultation with the amateur artist and writer Konstantin Shi- lovsky (1849–93), fleshed out the storyline and created the libretto. Working in the rela- tive seclusion of Shilovsky’s estate in the town of Glebovo outside Moscow, Tchaikovsky completed Act One and portions of Act Two in approximately four weeks before return- ing to Moscow for his wedding to Antonina Milyukova on July 6, a disastrous union that ended in September. The emotional turmoil drove the composer to his sister’s estate in Kamenka for six weeks to work primarily on the Fourth Symphony. Following the disso- lution of his marriage, Tchaikovsky traveled to Clarens, Switzerland, where he began the orchestration. Relocating next to Italy, he finished composing Act Two in Venice on November 16 and Act Three in San Remo on January 2. Tchaikovsky reported the comple- tion of Eugene Onegin to the pianist, com- poser, and conductor Nikolai Rubinstein on January 30. Alexander Pushkin by Orest Kiprensky (1827) RAVINIA.ORG • RAVINIA MAGAZINE 29