The composer himself was not present, as he wished to avoid the vivâ voce examination, which ought to have preceded the performance of the cantata. Anton Rubinstein was exceedingly displeased, and threatened to withhold Tchaikovsky’s diploma until he submitted to this public test. Matters were not carried so far. Apparently the young composer had given sufficient proof of his knowledge in the cantata itself, and he received not only his diploma, but a silver medal in addition.
In spite of this official success, the cantata did not win the approval of the musical authorities.
Evidently Rubinstein was not satisfied with it, since he put off Tchaikovsky’s request that the cantata might be performed by the Russian Musical Society, by saying that he could only agree on condition that “great alterations” were made in the score, for in its original form it was not good enough to place beside the works of other Russian composers—Sokalsky, Christianovich, Rimsky-Korsakov, and Balakirev. Serov’s opinion of this composition was not more favourable.
In the opposite camp to Serov—among that young Russian school which flocked round Dargomijsky, and included Balakirev, Rimsky-Korsakov, and Cæsar Cui, the cantata met with even less approval. Three months after its performance Cui, then critic of the St. Petersburg Viedomosti, wound up his notice of the work as follows:—
“In a word, I will only say that composers of the calibre of Reinthaler and Volkmann will probably rejoice over Mr. Tchaikovsky’s cantata, and exclaim, ‘Our number is increased.’”
Such were the judgments passed upon his first work by the musical lights and the Press.
Laroche, however, was of a different opinion. He sent the following letter to Tchaikovsky in Moscow:—
“Petersburg (midnight),
“January 11th(23rd), 1866.
“ ... I will tell you frankly that I consider yours is the greatest musical talent to which Russia can look in the future. Stronger and more original than Balakirev, loftier and more creative than Serov, far more refined than Rimsky-Korsakov. In you I see the greatest—or rather the sole—hope of our musical future. Your own original creations will probably not make their appearance for another five years. But these ripe and classic works will surpass everything we have heard since Glinka. To sum up: I do not honour you so much for what you have done, as for what the force and vitality of your genius will one day accomplish. The proofs you have given so far are but solemn pledges to outdo all your contemporaries.”