Symphony No. 6: Pathétique, Op. 74
Peter Ilych Tchaikovsky (1840-93)
Adagio –Allegro non troppo; Allegro con grazia; Allegro molto vivace; Adagio Lamentoso
Translated from the Russian, ‘pathetic’ means ‘passionate’; not ‘miserably inadequate’, as suggested by the Oxford Dictionary of English. Derived from the Greek ‘pathos’, it refers to the nature and behaviour of human emotions. For unexplained reasons, the word is generally offered in French when applied to music, as above. Almost certainly, Peter Ilych Tchaikovsky intended the title to be descriptive: ‘this is gut-wrenchingly, profoundly sad, deeply affecting music’, it seems to say, but it should be mentioned, for balance, that some have found the ‘heart-on-sleeve’ result distasteful. Martin Cooper called it ‘shameless emotionalism’, and Gustav Mahler described the symphony as ‘…a shallow, superficial … work, no better than salon music...’. Tchaikovsky wrote to his brother:
I believe it comes into being as the best of my works. I must finish it as soon as possible, for I have to wind up a lot of affairs and I must soon go to London. I told you that I had completed a symphony which suddenly displeased me, and I tore it up. Now I have composed a new symphony which I certainly shall not tear up.
This statement is doubly remarkable. First, he had indeed written a symphony in E flat that he tore up, having decided ‘… it contains nothing that is interesting or sympathetic’. Second, his haste to complete the new symphony was justified because he died shortly after the acclaimed first performance. Giving a big work an enigmatic title and then dying is a sure-fire way to stoke speculation and we have plenty of that. Some have claimed that it dwells on ‘Fate’, rather as his fourth and fifth symphonies had done, but such theorists are tested when challenged to find a ‘fate motif’ equivalent to those in the earlier works. Others have toyed with the alphabetical notation of the big tunes, juggling the letters to create spurious cryptograms revealing the composer’s prescience of his own death. These are thoroughly unconvincing. It has even been called the ‘Suicide Symphony’. Support for this grim suggestion is an undisputed but brief quotation from the Orthodox Requiem. We should also mention Tchaikovsky’s remark to Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov that the symphony had a ‘programme’ or inner message, but he was not going to tell anyone what it was. And he didn’t tell, so we are simply left with the music to speak for itself, which it does most eloquently.
‘Eloquently’ is the mot juste because, for more than a century, listeners have felt that this symphony ‘speaks’ to them more eloquently than any other. We sense that the music is really trying to tell us something, like a pet dog with questioning eyes and head aslant. Although words are never uttered, the message travels straight to the heart.
No-one needs a blow-by-blow account of such a well-known romantic symphony. However, we should remember that it is not all sadness and gloom. Dorothy Parker famously remarked, ‘Katharine Hepburn delivered a striking performance that ran the gamut of emotions from A to B.’ The gamut of emotions evoked by the Pathétique may start at A but it runs way beyond B. The first movement begins ominously with dark sonorities, emerging into sunlight with a romantic theme of incomparable allure. Many melodies and moods compete, blend and reconcile themselves in this monumental opening essay. The lilting second movement resembles a lop-sided waltz in 5/4, a time signature criticised for being ‘affected and unnecessary’ by a contemporary critic, Eduard Hanslick. As a surprise, even for those who know the symphony, the third movement is a rousing march that is surely designed to stir the soul. It sounds like a finale, and indeed, it is sometimes applauded as though it were such. The music is loud, relentless, triumphant and exhausting to play. For sure, it is not ‘pathetic’ in any of its definitions. In stark contrast, the final movement is pathetic in its most noble sense. The music speaks to us so clearly, we almost nod in agreement and weep in understanding. Never has wordless sound been so articulate. Tchaikovsky lived nine days beyond this symphony’s first performance. Its second performance was given at a concert dedicated to his memory about a month later.
Peter Ilych Tchaikovsky (1840-93)
Adagio –Allegro non troppo; Allegro con grazia; Allegro molto vivace; Adagio Lamentoso
Translated from the Russian, ‘pathetic’ means ‘passionate’; not ‘miserably inadequate’, as suggested by the Oxford Dictionary of English. Derived from the Greek ‘pathos’, it refers to the nature and behaviour of human emotions. For unexplained reasons, the word is generally offered in French when applied to music, as above. Almost certainly, Peter Ilych Tchaikovsky intended the title to be descriptive: ‘this is gut-wrenchingly, profoundly sad, deeply affecting music’, it seems to say, but it should be mentioned, for balance, that some have found the ‘heart-on-sleeve’ result distasteful. Martin Cooper called it ‘shameless emotionalism’, and Gustav Mahler described the symphony as ‘…a shallow, superficial … work, no better than salon music...’. Tchaikovsky wrote to his brother:
I believe it comes into being as the best of my works. I must finish it as soon as possible, for I have to wind up a lot of affairs and I must soon go to London. I told you that I had completed a symphony which suddenly displeased me, and I tore it up. Now I have composed a new symphony which I certainly shall not tear up.
This statement is doubly remarkable. First, he had indeed written a symphony in E flat that he tore up, having decided ‘… it contains nothing that is interesting or sympathetic’. Second, his haste to complete the new symphony was justified because he died shortly after the acclaimed first performance. Giving a big work an enigmatic title and then dying is a sure-fire way to stoke speculation and we have plenty of that. Some have claimed that it dwells on ‘Fate’, rather as his fourth and fifth symphonies had done, but such theorists are tested when challenged to find a ‘fate motif’ equivalent to those in the earlier works. Others have toyed with the alphabetical notation of the big tunes, juggling the letters to create spurious cryptograms revealing the composer’s prescience of his own death. These are thoroughly unconvincing. It has even been called the ‘Suicide Symphony’. Support for this grim suggestion is an undisputed but brief quotation from the Orthodox Requiem. We should also mention Tchaikovsky’s remark to Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov that the symphony had a ‘programme’ or inner message, but he was not going to tell anyone what it was. And he didn’t tell, so we are simply left with the music to speak for itself, which it does most eloquently.
‘Eloquently’ is the mot juste because, for more than a century, listeners have felt that this symphony ‘speaks’ to them more eloquently than any other. We sense that the music is really trying to tell us something, like a pet dog with questioning eyes and head aslant. Although words are never uttered, the message travels straight to the heart.
No-one needs a blow-by-blow account of such a well-known romantic symphony. However, we should remember that it is not all sadness and gloom. Dorothy Parker famously remarked, ‘Katharine Hepburn delivered a striking performance that ran the gamut of emotions from A to B.’ The gamut of emotions evoked by the Pathétique may start at A but it runs way beyond B. The first movement begins ominously with dark sonorities, emerging into sunlight with a romantic theme of incomparable allure. Many melodies and moods compete, blend and reconcile themselves in this monumental opening essay. The lilting second movement resembles a lop-sided waltz in 5/4, a time signature criticised for being ‘affected and unnecessary’ by a contemporary critic, Eduard Hanslick. As a surprise, even for those who know the symphony, the third movement is a rousing march that is surely designed to stir the soul. It sounds like a finale, and indeed, it is sometimes applauded as though it were such. The music is loud, relentless, triumphant and exhausting to play. For sure, it is not ‘pathetic’ in any of its definitions. In stark contrast, the final movement is pathetic in its most noble sense. The music speaks to us so clearly, we almost nod in agreement and weep in understanding. Never has wordless sound been so articulate. Tchaikovsky lived nine days beyond this symphony’s first performance. Its second performance was given at a concert dedicated to his memory about a month later.