“Fremdenblatt”
“SIXTH PHILHARMONIC CONCERT

“Hamburg, January 20th, 1888.

“The Serenade was given to the public about 1883. The first and third movements are the most important, yet, even at its weightiest, it is not worthy to be placed beside the works of our latest German composers. This movement shows some similarity in form to the old French overture, as appears from its division into three parts and the Introduction in slow time. The second movement, a Valse Tempo in the dominant, is as out of keeping with the leading emotion of the opening movement as is the Finale—which is not always very lofty in conception. Undoubtedly the highest recognition would be accorded to the Elégie (third movement) if it, too, had more in common with the first movement. This sense of unity is lacking, in spite of the admirable development of the parts, while the key of D major, and the second sequence of dominants leading to C, is not calculated to give coherence to the whole. From the point of view of instrumentation the Serenade is admirably worked out, and the means selected are so well handled that it is worthy to rank with numerous other serenades for strings which have been turned out by skilled artists in recent years. If in the Serenade many fundamental principles of form have been violated, this method of procedure, which might be attributed to an effort after novelty, stands in no approximate relationship to the music of the Pianoforte Concerto (op. 23), a work which will hardly please German musicians in its entirety. This music bears so essentially the Russian stamp that we must be able to view it entirely from a national standpoint in order to find it interesting. The Concerto, in three extended movements, consists of an endless chain of phrases, and offers only a superficial development of the themes. Each phrase stands by itself, and has no connection with the next. It is not lacking in noisy passages, which cost the pianist enormous efforts, but none of these are the outcome of logical necessity. It is true that the work is not lacking in cleverness, but how regrettable that such an eminent talent should go so far astray!... The Theme and Variations from the Third Suite for orchestra brought the Tchaikovsky performance to a close. Here the composer gives us something clever and skilful, at least as regards the first half of the work; but our pleasure in these welcome, solid tone-structures only lasts until the violin solo in B minor. After this number the work runs a superficial course, culminating in a very commonplace Tempo di Polacca. If this is really Russian, and justified as such, Tchaikovsky’s music may have its special qualities for Russian artists. German composers, however, are not likely to derive from it any satisfactory results which could forward the development of their art....

“Emil Krause.”

“Hamburger Nachrichten”

January 20th, 1888.

“Yesterday Tchaikovsky’s Serenade (op. 48), his Pianoforte Concerto op. 23, and Theme and Variations from op. 55 were given at the Philharmonic Concert. In all these works we observed the same half-popular (volkstümlich), half-trivial element as regards the melodic invention. We need not, however, lay stress upon this in referring to the individual movements, since the absence of what seems indispensable to a German audience is not a fault in the composer. The Concerto is least calculated to convince the hearer of Tchaikovsky’s power of logical development and perfection of form. The first movement conceals its very primitive formal structure under an overpowering rush of harmonic effects, of dazzling kaleidoscopic passages, of intricate treatment of the subjects and of orchestral colour.... The Serenade is more lucid in design and far clearer in expression. Its sonority is full and satisfying, and it displays much variety of colouring. By the divisions of the violins, the skilful employment of violas and ‘cellos, and the judicious combination and alternation of bowed and pizzicato passages, the composer succeeds in producing many picturesque effects. Interrupted cadences and frequent changes of rhythm break the flow of the work as a whole, but it leaves a general impression of freshness, animation, and attractiveness. The subjects of the fluently handled first Allegro have a piquant quality. The second movement is a slow Valse. Far more distinctive is the first subject of the third movement—with its old-world colouring—which resembles the introduction to the Finale, and is treated, moreover, in the genuine Russian folk-style, being heard first in C major and E flat major. In the Variations from the Third Suite the composer gives us a convincing proof of his musical science and fruitful imagination. The theme itself is only of mediocre quality, musically speaking, but, as the movement proceeds, it increases in importance, in depth, and complexity of the parts, until in the Finale it is worked up to a somewhat obtrusive apotheosis of elemental strength, the outcome of the mere rhythm. This was regarded as a signal for departure by a large section of the audience, who were too much concerned in safeguarding their own tympanums to feel compunction for the disturbance they caused to the more strong-minded, who sat it out to the end.”

“Vossiche Zeitung,” No. 68

“Berlin, February 9th, 1888.

“Not only among the new school of his compatriots, but among all contemporary composers Tchaikovsky is now reckoned as one of the most gifted. He possesses intellect, originality, and invention, and is master alike of the old and the more modern forms. Compared with his fellow-countryman Rubinstein, through whose nature runs a vein of greater amplitude and warmth—Tchaikovsky has more charm and judgment. Both have in common—what we find in every Russian composer with whom we are acquainted—a tendency to exaggeration of form and expression; but here again, Tchaikovsky seems to possess the most artistic refinement. The songs which Frl. Friede sang yesterday, and the String Quartet, are remarkable for delicacy of invention and beauty of form. The overture to Romeo and Juliet, and the Pianoforte Concerto, played by Herr Siloti, are full of characteristic animation and originality of rhythm, harmony, and instrumentation. But here also the defects to which we have alluded are clearly perceptible. The overture becomes wearisome by the spinning out of the same idea; while, according to our conception of the play which inspired this work, the use of the big drum seems rather a coarse effect.