United States or Aruba ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
But almost all the traits that startled and moved the world in Tschaikowsky's symphonies are revealed in this far earlier music: the tempestuous rage of what might be called an hysterical school, and the same poignant beauty of the lyric episodes; the sheer contrast, half trick, half natural, of fierce clangor and dulcet harmonies, all painted with the broad strokes of the orchestral palette.
It should be observed that even here Tschaikowsky's instinctive tendency to cover the intensity of his mood with a pretence of carelessness had led him to put this enormous outburst into a rhythm that, otherwise used, would be irresistibly jolly. The last movement, too, verges on the hysterical throughout.
The peaceful pastoral airs then return, like the sun after a fleeting storm. The whole of this third scene of Tschaikowsky's agrees with no special one in Byron's poem, unless we go back to the second of the first act, where Manfred, in a morning hour, alone upon the cliffs, views the mountains of the Jungfrau before he makes a foiled attempt to spring into the abyss.
Just at this time a wealthy widow lady, Madame von Meek, a great admirer of Tschaikowsky's music, learning of his sad condition, settled on him a generous yearly allowance for life. He was now independent and could give his time to composition. The following year he returned to Moscow and seemed quite his natural self. A fever of energy for work took possession of him.
Thurber's National Conservatory of Music in New York, and there wrote that truly melodious and deeply emotional work, "From the New World," which has become almost as popular as Tschaikowsky's "Pathétique." His Bohemian rhythms have a unique charm. Among the Scandinavian composers the greatest, by far, is Grieg, one of the most original melodists and harmonists of all times.
The Piano Trio in A minor, "To the memory of a great artist," Op. 50, refers to his friend and former master, Nicholas Rubinstein, who passed away in Paris, in 1881. Tschaikowsky's opera, "Mazeppa," was his next important work. In the same year the Second Orchestral Suite, Op. 53, and the Third, Op. 55, followed. Two Symphonic Poems, "Manfred" and "Hamlet" came next.
Whether the public is right or wrong, and whether we all are or are not just a little inclined to-day to exaggerate Tschaikowsky's gifts and the value of his music, there can be no doubt whatever that he was a singularly fine craftsman, who brought into music a number of fresh and living elements.
"It is the last night of the supplementary opera season," answered Indiman, "and we are going to dress and see what we can of Tschaikowsky's 'Queen of Spades. A novelty first and only performance outside of Russia, and Ternina heads the cast." "There is Mademoiselle D.," remarked Indiman, as his glass swept the semicircle of the parterre. "The fourth box from the end."
"And those over there?" asked the inspector, indicating a group at the conductor's right. "The second violins," was the reply. "What!" yelled the official. "Second violins in a Soviet state orchestra? Clear them out!" Mr. Koussevitzky went to Paris, where he conducted a series of orchestral concerts and performances of Moussorgsky's "Boris Godounoff" and Tschaikowsky's "Pique Dame" at the Opera.
From Tschaikowsky's title, we must look for the awful gloom of the cavernous hall of Arimanes, Byron's "Prince of Earth and Air." The gray figure from most ancient myth is not less real to us than Mefistofeles in "Faust." At least we clearly feel the human daring that feared not to pry into forbidden mysteries and refused the solace of unthinking faith.
Word Of The Day