SYMPHONY NO. 5, IN E MINOR, OP. 64
I. Andante; Allegro con anima II. Andante cantabile, con alcuna licenza III. Valse (Allegro moderato) IV. Finale (Andante maestoso; allegro vivace)
Tchaikovsky was singularly reticent in his letters concerning the Fifth symphony, but who can refrain from thinking with Ernest Newman that this symphony was written to a programme; that the work “embodies an emotional sequence of some kind”? There is the tread of inexorable fate; this tread disturbs the beauty of the andante; it checks the forced gayety of the dancers in the waltz, and is the triumphant spirit in the finale something more than a heroic defiance of the inevitable, a brave stand before the approach of death?
We are interested in the woe of Canio or of the Navarraise; we are moved by the infinite sadness of Mélisande; we understand the tragedy in the humble home on Montmartre and the agony of Rigoletto. We endure the spectacle of the anguish of these men and women on the stage, applaud and go comfortably to bed. Tchaikovsky’s music awakens in the breast the haunting, unanswerable questions of life and death that concern us directly and personally.
About the end of April, 1888, Tchaikovsky took possession of his country house at Frolovskoe, which had been made ready for him, when he was at Paris and London, by his servant Alexis. Frolovskoe is a picturesque place on a wooded hill on the way from Moscow to Klin. The house was simple. “Here he [Tchaikovsky] could be alone,”—we quote from Mrs. Newmarch’s translation into English of Modeste Tchaikovsky’s life of Peter,—“free from summer excursionists, to enjoy the little garden (with its charming pool and tiny islet) fringed by the forest, behind which the view opened out upon a distant stretch of country—upon that homely, unassuming landscape of Central Russia which Tchaikovsky preferred to all the sublimities of Switzerland, the Caucasus, and Italy. Had not the forest been gradually exterminated, he would never have quitted Frolovskoe, for, although he only lived there for three years, he became greatly attached to the place. A month before his death, traveling from Klin to Moscow, he said, looking out at the churchyard of Frolovskoe: ‘I should like to be buried there.’”
On June 22 he wrote to Mme von Meck: “Now I shall work my hardest. I am exceedingly anxious to prove to myself, as to others, that I am not played out as a composer.... Have I told you that I intend to write a symphony? The beginning was difficult; but now inspiration seems to have come. However, we shall see.”
In July, Tchaikovsky received a letter from an American manager who offered him 25,000 dollars for a concert tour of three months. The sum seemed incredible to the composer: “Should this tour really take place, I could realize my long-cherished wish to become a landowner.” On August 6 he wrote to Mme von Meck: “When I am old and past composing, I shall spend the whole of my time in growing flowers. I have been working with good results. I have orchestrated half the symphony. My age—although I am not very old [he was then forty-eight]—begins to tell on me. I become very tired, and I can no longer play the pianoforte or read at night as I used to do.” On August 26 he wrote to her: “I am not feeling well, ... but I am so glad that I have finished the symphony that I forget my physical troubles.... In November I shall conduct a whole series of my works in St. Petersburg, at the Philharmonic, and the new symphony will be one of them.”
The Fifth symphony was performed for the first time at St. Petersburg, November 17, 1888. The composer conducted. The audience was pleased, but the reviews in the newspapers were not very favorable. On November 24 of the same year, Tchaikovsky conducted the symphony again at a concert of the Musical Society.
In December, 1888, he wrote to Mme von Meck: “After two performances of my new symphony in St. Petersburg and one in Prague, I have come to the conclusion that it is a failure. There is something repellent, something superfluous, patchy, and insincere, which the public instinctively recognizes. It was obvious to me that the ovations I received were prompted more by my earlier work, and that the symphony itself did not really please the audience. The consciousness of this brings me a sharp twinge of self-dissatisfaction. Am I really played out, as they say? Can I merely repeat and ring the changes on my earlier idiom? Last night I looked through our symphony [No. 4]. What a difference! How immeasurably superior it is! It is very, very sad!” He was cheered by news of the success of the symphony in Moscow.
At the public rehearsal in Hamburg, the symphony pleased the musicians; there was real enthusiasm.
Tchaikovsky wrote after the concert to Davidov: “The Fifth symphony was magnificently played and I like it far better now, after having held a bad opinion of it for some time. Unfortunately, the Russian press continues to ignore me. With the exception of my nearest and dearest, no one will ever hear of my successes.”
Modeste Tchaikovsky is of the opinion that the Fifth symphony was a long time in making its way chiefly on account of his brother’s inefficiency as a conductor.
The andante, E minor, 4-4 theme of the symphony, which occurs in the four movements, typical of fate, “the eternal note of sadness,” of what you will, is given at the very beginning to the clarinets, and the development serves as an approach to the allegro. The principal theme of the first movement, allegro con anima, 6-8, is announced by clarinet and bassoon. It is developed elaborately and at great length. This theme is said to have been derived from a Polish folk song. The second theme in B minor is given to the strings. The recapitulation begins with the restatement of the principal theme by the bassoon. There is a long coda, which finally sinks to a pianissimo and passes to the original key.
The second movement has been characterized as a romance, firmly knit together in form, and admitting great freedom of interpretation, as the qualification, “con alcuna licenza,” of the andante cantabile indicates. After a short introduction in the deeper strings, the horn sings the principal melody. The oboe gives out a new theme, which is answered by the horn, and this theme is taken up by violins and violas. The principal theme is heard from the violoncellos, after which the clarinet sings still another melody, which is developed to a climax, in which the full orchestra thunders out the chief theme of the symphony, the theme of bodement. The second part of the movement follows in a general way along the lines already established. There is another climax, and again is heard the impressive theme of the symphony.
The third movement is a waltz allegro moderato, A major, 3-4. The structure is simple, and the development of the first theme, dolce con grazia, given to violins against horns, bassoons, and string instruments, is natural. Toward the very end clarinets and bassoons sound, as afar off, the theme of the symphony: the gayety is over.
There is a long introduction, andante maestoso, E major, 4-4, to the finale, a development of the somber and dominating theme. This andante is followed by an allegro vivace, E minor, with the first theme given to the strings, and a more tuneful theme assigned first to the wood-wind and afterward to the violins. The development of the second theme contains illusions to the chief theme of the symphony. Storm and fury; the movement comes to a halt; the coda begins in E major, the allegro vivace increases to a presto. The second theme of the finale is heard, and the final climax contains a reminiscence of the first theme of the first movement.
Some find pleasure in characterizing Tchaikovsky’s symphonies as suites; Dvořák is said to have made this criticism. But the Fifth symphony escapes this charge, for objectors admit that in this work the composer made his nearest approach to true symphonic form—in spite of the fact that there is no repetition of the first part of the first allegro, and a waltz movement takes the place of the scherzo.