But the rhythm
appears too often and becomes wearisome.
“The Andante is charming (the middle does not particularly please me). The Scherzo is exquisite, and goes splendidly. The Trio I cannot bear: it sounds like a ballet movement.
“Nicholas Grigorievich (Rubinstein) likes the Finale best, but I do not altogether agree with him. The variations on a folksong do not strike me as very important or interesting.
“In my opinion the Symphony has one defect, to which I shall never be reconciled: in every movement there are phrases which sound like ballet music: the middle section of the Andante, the Trio of the Scherzo, and a kind of march in the Finale. Hearing the Symphony, my inner eye sees involuntarily ‘our prima ballerina,’ which puts me out of humour and spoils my pleasure in the many beauties of the work.
“This is my candid opinion. Perhaps I have expressed it somewhat freely, but do not be hurt. It is not surprising that the Symphony does not entirely please me. Had you not sent Eugene Oniegin at the same time, perhaps it might have satisfied me. It is your own fault. Why have you composed such an opera, which has no parallel in the world? Oniegin has given me such pleasure that I cannot find words to express it. A splendid opera! And yet you say you want to give up composing. You have never done so well. Rejoice that you have attained such perfection, and profit by it.”
Tchaikovsky to Taneiev.
“Clarens, March 27th (April 8th), 1878.
“Dear Serge,—I have read your letter with the greatest pleasure and interest.... You need not be afraid that your criticism of my Fourth Symphony is too severe. You have simply given me your frank opinion, for which I am grateful. I want these kind of opinions, not choruses of praise. At the same time many things in your letter astonished me. I have no idea what you consider ‘ballet music,’ or why you should object to it. Do you regard every melody in a lively dance-rhythm as ‘ballet music’? In that case how can you reconcile yourself to the majority of Beethoven’s symphonies, for in them you will find similar melodies on every page? Or do you mean to say that the Trio of my Scherzo is in the style of Minkus, Gerber, or Pugni? It does not, to my mind, deserve such criticism. I never can understand why ‘ballet music’ should be used as a contemptuous epithet. The music of a ballet is not invariably bad, there are good works of this class—Délibes’ Sylvia, for instance. And when the music is good, what difference does it make whether the Sobiesichanskaya[61] dances to it or not? I can only say that certain portions of my Symphony do not please you because they recall the ballet, not because they are intrinsically bad. You may be right, but I do not see why dance tunes should not be employed episodically in a symphony, even with the avowed intention of giving a touch of coarse, everyday humour. Again I appeal to Beethoven, who frequently had recourse to similar effects. I must add that I have racked my brains in vain to recall in what part of the Allegro you can possibly have discovered ‘ballet music.’ It remains an enigma. With all that you say as to my Symphony having a programme, I am quite in agreement. But I do not see why this should be a mistake. I am far more afraid of the contrary; I do not wish any symphonic work to emanate from me which has nothing to express, and consists merely of harmonies and a purposeless design of rhythms and modulations. Of course, my Symphony is programme music, but it would be impossible to give the programme in words; it would appear ludicrous and only raise a smile. Ought not this to be the case with a symphony which is the most lyrical of all musical forms? Ought it not to express all those things for which words cannot be found, which nevertheless arise in the heart and clamour for expression? Besides, I must tell you that in my simplicity I imagined the plan of my Symphony to be so obvious that everyone would understand its meaning, or at least its leading ideas, without any definite programme. Pray do not imagine I want to swagger before you with profound emotions and lofty ideas. Throughout the work I have made no effort to express any new thought. In reality my work is a reflection of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony; I have not copied his musical contents, only borrowed the central idea. What kind of a programme has this Fifth Symphony, do you think? Not only has it a programme, but it is so clear that there cannot be the smallest difference of opinion as to what it means. Much the same lies at the root of my Symphony, and if you have failed to grasp it, it simply proves that I am no Beethoven—on which point I have no doubt whatever. Let me add that there is not a single bar in this Fourth Symphony of mine which I have not truly felt, and which is not an echo of my most intimate spiritual life. The only exception occurs perhaps in the middle section of the first movement, in which there are some forced passages, some things which are laboured and artificial. I know you will laugh as you read these lines. You are a sceptic and a mocking-bird. In spite of your great love of music you do not seem to believe that a man can compose from his inner impulses. Wait awhile, you too will join the ranks! Some day, perhaps very soon, you will compose, not because others ask you to do so, but because it is your own desire. Only then will the seed which can bring forth a splendid harvest fall upon the rich soil of your gifted nature. I speak the truth, if somewhat grandiloquently. Meanwhile your fields are waiting for the sower. I will write more about this in my next. There were beautiful details in your score, it only lacks ... but I will not forestall matters. In my next letter I will talk exclusively of yourself.