110 / 116
Julius Reisinger, who removed and rearranged
scenes and even substituted excerpts from other
ballet scores. Predictably, musical and dramatic
coherence disintegrated, and the production re-
ceived only lukewarm reviews. (This “tradition”
of rearranging Tchaikovsky’s music continues in
some modern productions.)
The original libretto presents the following sce-
nario: The enchanted princess Odette, who has
been transformed into a swan by a magic spell,
can regain her human form by finding a true
and constant love. Prince Siegfried encounters
Odette at twilight and falls in love with her.
Siegfried selects a bride at his coming-of-age
celebration, a princess who resembles Odette.
He discovers upon making his vows that the
princess is Odile, the evil daughter of Rothbart.
Siegfried has unwittingly betrayed Odette. The
prince is later discovered drowned at the edge
of the lake. The swans glide across the lake, and
Odette once again awaits a true love.
Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat minor, op. 23
Scored for two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two
bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, two tenor and
one bass trombone, timpani, strings, and solo piano
On Christmas Eve 1874, Tchaikovsky persuaded
Nikolai Rubinstein—pianist, teacher, and di-
rector of the Moscow Conservatory—to listen
to his new, still-unorchestrated piano concerto.
The two musicians met in a classroom at the
conservatory. Tchaikovsky sought friendly tech-
nical advice from his colleague before attend-
ing a holiday gathering: “As I am not a pianist,
I needed a virtuoso’s opinion as to what was
technically impractical, difficult, unplayable,
and so on. I needed a serious but friendly critic,
but only for the pianistic aspect of my compo-
sition. Rubinstein is not only the first pianist of
Moscow, but is truly a perfect pianist; knowing
he would be deeply offended if he thought I had
ignored him, I asked him to listen to the con-
certo and give me an opinion on the piano part,
although some inner voice protested against my
selecting him as judge.”
Tchaikovsky should have heeded his “inner
voice,” for a most shocking scene transpired. The
memory of that infamous night still burned three
years later, when the composer sent a detailed
account to his patron, Nadezhda von Meck: “I
played through the first movement. Not a word,
not a remark. …I armed myself with patience
and played it through to the end. Again silence.
I stood up and said, ‘Well?’ Then from the lips
of [Rubinstein] poured a torrent of words. …
It appeared that my concerto is worthless … as
a composition it is poor, I stole this from here
and that from there, there are only two or three
pages that can be salvaged, and the rest must be
thrown away or changed completely!”
Deflated and incensed, Tchaikovsky stormed
out of the room. This humiliating outburst was
hardly what he expected. “I am no longer a boy
trying his strength in composition—I no longer
need lessons, especially lessons expressed so
sharply and in such a hostile manner.” Rubin-
stein tried to atone for his harshness 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 dedication to Rubinstein. After
considering Sergei Taneyev, a talented student
at the conservatory, Tchaikovsky offered the
concerto to the German pianist and conductor
Hans von Bülow, who gave the world premiere
in the United States. Rubinstein eventually ad-
mitted his error in judgment and added the con-
certo to his repertoire.
One can hardly fault Rubinstein for balking
at the unconventional handling of concerto
form. Within six measures of the introduction,
Tchaikovsky moves to a different key for a warm
string theme accompanied by bounding chords
in the piano. A choppy Ukrainian folk tune,
which Tchaikovsky apparently heard sung by a
blind man, serves as the first theme of the sonata
portion. In the
Andantino semplice
, a Romantic
melody—the kind only Tchaikovsky could in-
vent—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 was then popular in Moscow. Yet another
lively Ukrainian folk song, “Come, come, Ivan-
ka,” provides the finale’s opening theme. Bois-
terous transitional material recalls the spirit of
a Cossack dance, and then the music becomes
more lyrical and expressive. Tchaikovsky brings
the concerto to a climax with a flashy coda.
Entr’acte, Waltz, and Polonaise from
Eugene Onegin
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) was a national treasure, one of the most
revered works in the Russian language. The
prospect of an opera based on
Onegin
, an idea
first raised by contralto Yelizaveta Lavrovska-
ya, both excited and intimidated Tchaikovsky.
Nevertheless, in May 1877 he embarked on the
10-month-long operatic project, culminating in
the first performance by students at the Moscow
Conservatory on March 29, 1879, and the profes-
sional premiere at Moscow’s Bolshoi Theater on
January 23, 1881.
In the opera, Tatyana, the daughter of a land-
owner, lives on the family’s country estate.
Two young men, Vladimir Lensky and Eugene
Onegin, arrive from the city. Tatyana falls in love
with Onegin, and Lensky with her sister Olga.
The smitten Tatyana later pens a secret confes-
sion of love to Onegin, who gently reproaches
her and promises nothing more than brotherly
love. Act II begins (
Entr’acte
) with a ball held in
honor of Tatyana’s name day. The guests dance
to the
Waltz
and prattle amongst themselves.
Onegin flirts with Olga, which enrages Lensky.
A duel ensues, and Lensky is killed. Four years
pass. To the strains of the
Polonaise
, Onegin re-
turns from abroad, where he has attempted to
forget the murder of his friend. He encounters
Tatyana at a ball and discovers she has married
Prince Gremin. In the final scene, Onegin con-
fesses his love for Tatyana. Despite her enduring
affection, Tatyana decides to honor her marriage
vows to the prince.
Nikolai Rubinstein (1872)
Alexander Pushkin by Orest Kiprensky (1827)