Music |
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4
By
Published: Jul 16, 2012
Category:
Classical
The New York Philharmonic was giving a concert in Central Park, and because the child and I have taken to strolling in the park in the evening, I thought we’d do some walk-by listening. The program was to begin with Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 4, about which I knew almost nothing. I prefer the child to think I know almost everything, so I read up about the composer and this piece before we headed out. [To buy Symphonies No. 4, 5, & 6, conducted by Herbert van Karajan, with the Berlin Philharmonic, from Amazon, click here. For the MP3 download, click here.]
No way could I tell a 10-year-old the story behind the music.
What I had long known about Tchaikovsky: Of the major composers, he was probably the most pop, the corniest. Consider the 1812 Overture, for example. Orchestras play it in the summer in big cities, with fireworks and cannon at the rousing conclusion.
And then there is the ballet music. Swan Lake. Sleeping Beauty. The Nutcracker. If you’ve had the pleasure of raising a kid who dreamed of becoming a ballet dancer, you have probably witnessed more than your share of amateur productions. And the beauty of this music has long since soured for you.
And then there’s the grown-up classic, the Piano Concerto No. 1. In 1958, Van Cliburn, a 23-year-old Texan, played it at the first International Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow — and, against all odds, won. He returned home to a ticker tape parade, a Grammy and the biggest-selling classical release in the history of recorded music. I don’t think there was a respectable household in America that lacked a copy.
What I didn’t know, or had conveniently forgotten: Tchaikovsky was gay. And that had a great deal to do with the writing of his Symphony No. 4.
When Tchaikovsky began to write it in 1877, he had no interest in a romance with a woman. Then Antonina Ivanovna Milyukova declared her love. She was young, mentally unbalanced, highly sexed. Tchaikovsky saw her as a chance to have a “normal” life, so he married her. Disaster awaited. And it came fast — they were together for just three weeks before Tchaikovsky broke with her and tried to kill himself.
Doctors sent him to Italy. To the rescue came Nadezhda von Meck, a wealthy widow. Their correspondence became intimate and she became his patron, a relationship that lasted 13 years — although they never met. It was his feeling for von Meck that he poured into the Symphony No. 4.
Listening to the start of the first movement from a distance, the child and I were excited. Its themes are large, broad, dramatic. As the composer wrote to his patron, to whom the symphony is dedicated:
This is fate: this is that fateful force which prevents the impulse to happiness from attaining its goal, which jealously ensures that peace and happiness shall not be complete and unclouded, which hangs above the head like the sword of Damocles, unwaveringly, constantly poisoning the soul. An invincible force that can never be overcome — merely endured, miserably.
But wait. All is not gloom. True, Tchaikovsky wrote of this symphony:
I was extremely depressed during the winter when writing the symphony, and it rather echoes my feelings at that time… They remain, in general, memories of most terrible and dreadfully difficult times.
But consider the final movement. His thought:
Go among the people. See how they can enjoy themselves, surrendering themselves wholeheartedly to joyful feelings. Picture the festive merriment of ordinary people….. O, how they are enjoying themselves! How happy they are that all their feelings are simple and straightforward. Reproach yourself, and do not say that everything in this world is sad. Joy is simple, but powerful. Rejoice in the rejoicing of others. To live is still possible.
Any orchestra’s summer concerts under the stars inevitably features crowd-pleasers. The Symphony No. 4 is certainly that. And more.
