To Modeste Tchaikovsky.
“Rome, February 26th (March 9th), 1880.
“To-day I went on foot to the Vatican and sat a long while in the Sistine Chapel. Here a miracle was worked. I felt—almost for the first time in my life—an artistic ecstasy for painting. What it means to become gradually accustomed to the painter’s art! I remember the time when all this seemed to me absurd and meaningless....”
To Modeste Tchaikovsky.
“Berlin, March 4th (16th), 1880.
“In Paris I went to the ‘Comédie Francaise,’ and fell in love with Racine or Corneille (which of them wrote Polyeucte?). The beauty and strength of these verses and, still more, the lofty artistic truth! At the first glance this tragedy seems so unreal and impossible. The last act, however, in which Felix, conscience-stricken and illumined by Christ, suddenly becomes a Christian, touched me profoundly....
“After reading Toly’s letter I went to Bilse’s concert. The large, luxuriously decorated hall, with its smell of indifferent cigars and food, its stocking-knitting ladies and beer-drinking men, made a curious impression upon me. After Italy, where we were constantly out in the beautiful, pure air, it was quite repugnant. But the orchestra was excellent, the acoustic splendid, and the programme good. I heard Schumann’s ‘Genoveva,’ the ‘Mignon’ overture, and a very sparkling pot-pourri, and I was very pleased with it all. How glad I shall be to hear the Flying Dutchman to-day!”
To Modeste Tchaikovsky.
“Berlin, March 5th (17th), 1880.
“To-day I went to the Aquarium, where I went into ecstasies over the chimpanzee. He lives in intimate friendship with a dog. It is delightful to see the two play together, and the chimpanzee laughs in the drollest way when he takes refuge in some place where the dog cannot get at him!