Adagio; Allegro non troppoAllegro con graziaAllegro, molto vivaceFinale: Adagio lamentoso
Tschaikowsky wrote to Vladimir Davidoff on February 23, 1893:
"Just as I was starting on my journey [the visit to Paris in December, 1892] the idea came to me for a new symphony. This time with a programme; but a programme which should be a riddle to all—let them guess it who can! The work will be entitled 'A Programme Symphony' (No. 6). This programme is penetrated by subjective sentiment. During my journey, while composing it in my mind, I have often wept bitterly. Now that I am home again I have settled down to sketch out the work, and I work at it with such ardor that in less than four days I have finished the first movement, while the other movements are clearly outlined in my mind. There will be much, as regards the form, that will be novel in this work. For instance, the Finale will not be a boisterous Allegro, but, on the contrary, an extended Adagio." Six months laterhe wrote to Davidoff that the symphony was progressing, and that he considered it the best—especially "the most open-hearted"—of all his works. "I love it as I have never loved any of my musical offspring before." On August 24th he informed his publisher, Jurgenson, that he had finished orchestrating the symphony; nor did his opinion of it change. "It is indescribably beautiful," he wrote, in a fervor of enthusiasm, to his brother Modeste; and to the Grand-Duke Constantine he wrote, on October 3d: "Without exaggeration I have put my whole soul into this work." It was the last score but one upon which he was to work. Five weeks later he was dead.[176]
The symphony was produced at St. Petersburg on October 28th, when it made little impression; it was said that its inspiration "stood far below Tschaikowsky's other symphonies." It did not then bear the title "Pathetic." How it came to be so named is thus related by Modeste Tschaikowsky:
"The morning after the concert I found my brother sitting at the breakfast-table with the score of the symphony before him. He had agreed to send the score to Jurgenson [his publisher] that very day, but could not decide upon a title. He did not care to designate it merely by a number, andhe had abandoned his original intention of entitling it 'A Programme Symphony.' 'What wouldProgramme Symphonymean,' he said, 'if I will not give the programme?' I suggested 'Tragic' Symphony as an appropriate title, but that did not please him. I left the room while he was still undecided. Suddenly 'Pathetic' occurred to me, and I went back to the room and suggested it. I remember, as though it were yesterday, how he exclaimed: 'Bravo, Modi, splendid!Pathetic!' And then and there he added to the score, in my presence, the title that will always remain."
"The morning after the concert I found my brother sitting at the breakfast-table with the score of the symphony before him. He had agreed to send the score to Jurgenson [his publisher] that very day, but could not decide upon a title. He did not care to designate it merely by a number, andhe had abandoned his original intention of entitling it 'A Programme Symphony.' 'What wouldProgramme Symphonymean,' he said, 'if I will not give the programme?' I suggested 'Tragic' Symphony as an appropriate title, but that did not please him. I left the room while he was still undecided. Suddenly 'Pathetic' occurred to me, and I went back to the room and suggested it. I remember, as though it were yesterday, how he exclaimed: 'Bravo, Modi, splendid!Pathetic!' And then and there he added to the score, in my presence, the title that will always remain."
What, precisely, was in Tschaikowsky's mind when he composed this "Programme Symphony"? According to Tschaikowsky's intimate friend Nicholas Kashkin, "if the composer had disclosed it to the public, the world would not have regarded the symphony as a kind of legacy from one filled with a presentiment of his own approaching end." To him it seems more reasonable "to interpret the overwhelming energy of the third movement and the abysmal sorrow of the Finale in the broader light of a national or historical significance, rather than to narrow them to the expression of an individual experience. If the last movement is intended to be predictive, it is surely of things vaster and issues more fatal than are contained in a mere personal apprehension of death. It speaks rather of alamentation large et souffrance inconnue, and seems to set the seal of finality on all human hopes. Even if we eliminate the purely subjective interest,this autumnal inspiration of Tschaikowsky, in which we hear 'the ground whirl of the perished leaves of hope,' still remains the most profoundly stirring of his works."
No one has speculated with finer tact and sympathy concerning this extraordinary human document than has Mr. Philip Hale, whose meditations may well serve as a comment upon the character of the music:
"Each hearer has his own thoughts when he is 'reminded by the instruments.' To some this symphony is as the life of man. The story is to them of man's illusions, desires, loves, struggles, victories, and end. In the first movement they find, with the despair of old age and the dread of death, the recollection of early years, with the transports and illusions of love, the remembrance of youth and all that is contained in that word."The second movement might bear as a motto the words of the Third Kalandar in theThousand Nights and a Night: 'And we sat down to drink, and some sang songs and others played the lute and psaltery and recorders and other instruments, and the bowl went merrily round. Hereupon such gladness possessed me that I forgot the sorrows of the world one and all, and said: "This is indeed life O sad that 'tis fleeting!'" The trio[177]is as the sound of the clock that in Poe's wild tale compelled eventhe musicians of the orchestra to pause momentarily in their performance, to hearken to the sound; 'and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions, and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while the chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in confused revery or meditation.' In this trio Death beats the drum. With Tschaikowsky, here, as in the 'Manfred' symphony, the drum is the most tragic of instruments. The persistent drum-beat in this trio is poignant in despair not untouched with irony. Man says: 'Come now, I'll be gay'; and he tries to sing and to dance and to forget. His very gaiety is labored, forced, constrained, in an unnatural rhythm. And then the drum is heard, and there is wailing, there is angry protest, there is the conviction that the struggle against Fate is vain. Again there is the deliberate effort to be gay, but the drum once heard beats in the ears forever."The third movement—the march-scherzo—is the excuse, the pretext, for the final lamentation. The man triumphs; he knows all that there is in earthly fame. Success is hideous, as Victor Hugo said. The blare of trumpets, the shouts of the mob, may drown the sneers of envy; but at Pompey passing Roman streets, at Tasso with the laurel wreath, at coronation of czar or inauguration of president, Death grins, for he knows the emptiness, the vulgarity, of what this world calls success."This battle-drunk, delirious movement must perforce precede the mighty wail—"'The glories of our blood and stateAre shadows, not substantial things;There is no armor against fate;Death lays his icy hands on kings.'"
"Each hearer has his own thoughts when he is 'reminded by the instruments.' To some this symphony is as the life of man. The story is to them of man's illusions, desires, loves, struggles, victories, and end. In the first movement they find, with the despair of old age and the dread of death, the recollection of early years, with the transports and illusions of love, the remembrance of youth and all that is contained in that word.
"The second movement might bear as a motto the words of the Third Kalandar in theThousand Nights and a Night: 'And we sat down to drink, and some sang songs and others played the lute and psaltery and recorders and other instruments, and the bowl went merrily round. Hereupon such gladness possessed me that I forgot the sorrows of the world one and all, and said: "This is indeed life O sad that 'tis fleeting!'" The trio[177]is as the sound of the clock that in Poe's wild tale compelled eventhe musicians of the orchestra to pause momentarily in their performance, to hearken to the sound; 'and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions, and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while the chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in confused revery or meditation.' In this trio Death beats the drum. With Tschaikowsky, here, as in the 'Manfred' symphony, the drum is the most tragic of instruments. The persistent drum-beat in this trio is poignant in despair not untouched with irony. Man says: 'Come now, I'll be gay'; and he tries to sing and to dance and to forget. His very gaiety is labored, forced, constrained, in an unnatural rhythm. And then the drum is heard, and there is wailing, there is angry protest, there is the conviction that the struggle against Fate is vain. Again there is the deliberate effort to be gay, but the drum once heard beats in the ears forever.
"The third movement—the march-scherzo—is the excuse, the pretext, for the final lamentation. The man triumphs; he knows all that there is in earthly fame. Success is hideous, as Victor Hugo said. The blare of trumpets, the shouts of the mob, may drown the sneers of envy; but at Pompey passing Roman streets, at Tasso with the laurel wreath, at coronation of czar or inauguration of president, Death grins, for he knows the emptiness, the vulgarity, of what this world calls success.
"This battle-drunk, delirious movement must perforce precede the mighty wail—
"'The glories of our blood and stateAre shadows, not substantial things;There is no armor against fate;Death lays his icy hands on kings.'"
"'The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armor against fate;
Death lays his icy hands on kings.'"
The last movement—the prodigiousAdagio lamentoso—moved Mr. Vernon Blackburn to a comparison with Shelley's "Adonais": "The precise emotions," he wrote, "down to a certain and extreme point, which inspired Shelley in his wonderful expression of grief and despair, also inspired the greatest of modern musicians since Wagner in his 'Swan Song'—his last musical utterance on earth. The first movement is the exact counterpart of those lines—
"'He will awake no more, oh, never more!—Within the twilight chamber spreads apaceThe shadow of white Death....'
"As the musician strays into the darkness and into the miserable oblivion of death, ... Tschaikowsky reaches the full despair of those other lines—
"'We decayLike corpses in a charnel; fear and griefConvulse us and consume us day by day,And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.'
"With that mysterious and desperate hopelessness the Russian comes to an end of his faith and anticipation.... For as ['life'], writes Shelley, 'like a many-colored dome of glass, stains the white radiance of eternity,' even so Tschaikowsky in this symphony has stained eternity's radiance: he has captured the years and bound them into a momentary emotional pang."