Symphony No. 4
Симфония № 4
Op. 36 (1877).
| Catalogue References |
TH 27 ; ČW 24 |
| Date |
March(?)–December 1877 |
| Key |
F minor |
| Tempo/Section Listing |
- Andante sostenuto—Moderato con anima (F minor, 424 bars)
- Andantino in modo di canzona (B♭
minor, 304 bars)
- Scherzo. Pizzicato ostinato. Allegro (F major, 414
bars)
- Finale. Allegro con fuoco (F major, 293 bars)
|
| Instrumentation |
Piccolo, 2 Flutes, 2 Oboes, 2 Clarinets (B♭, A), 2 Bassoons + 4 Horns (F), 2
Trumpets (F), 3 Trombones, Tuba + Timpani, Triangle, Cymbals, Bass
Drum + Violins I, Violins II, Violas, Cellos, Double Basses |
| First Performance |
Moscow, 10/22 February 1878,
conducted by Nikolai
Rubinstein |
| Autograph Location |
Moscow (Russia): Glinka State Central Museum of Musical Culture (ф. 88, No. 58) |
| First Publication |
Moscow: P. Jurgenson, 1879 (arrangement
for piano duet by Sergei
Taneev), 1880 (full score) |
| Average Duration |
42 minutes |
| Dedication |
"To my best friend" (= Nadezhda Filaretovna von
Meck, 1831–1894) |
| Note |
See also Study Scores |
| External Links |
IMSLP/Petrucci Music Library
(downloadable score) Wikipedia
(article) |
History
The first references to the composition of the Fourth Symphony are encountered
in letters from Tchaikovsky to
Nadezhda von Meck dating from early May 1877. In a letter of 1/13 May, he
wrote that he was now: "... engrossed in a symphony, which I began to write
during the winter... Any other type of work would weigh heavily upon me at the
moment—in other words the sort of work which requires a certain frame of
mind...
I find that now my nerves are frayed and irritable when I am deflected from
the symphony, which progress with some difficulty" [1].
By 3/15 May the first three movements had been written. "I have prepared
the first three movements in sketch form, and have set about the finale",
the composer wrote to Nadezhda
von Meck, "but because lately I have had no inclination to work, I shall
set it aside until the summer" [2]. Yet on 27 May/8 June, Tchaikovsky told her: "The
symphony is finished, i.e. in outline. By the end of the summer it should be
scored" [3].
In fact the instrumentation of the symphony was not begun until August 1877.
In May and June, the composer worked on his opera Evgenii Onegin; then he travelled
to Saint Petersburg and Kiev in connection with his wedding
arrangements. He arrived at Kamenka
on 30 July/12 August, but did not immediately start work there: "I would be
lying if I said that I have returned to my normal state of mind. This is insufferable...
and singularly disappointing. I have decided not to do any further work. Work
frightens and oppresses me... Hopefully my urge to work will return" [4].
However, it was not long before Tchaikovsky began to orchestrate the symphony [5], and on 12/24
August he could report: "Our symphony is progressing a little. I will
take particular care when orchestrating the first movement—it is very long and
complicated; yet it is also, in my opinion, the best movement. The remaining
three are much simpler, and orchestrating them will be very enjoyable. The Scherzo
employs a new orchestral effect, which I have designed myself" [6].
The instrumentation of the first movement was delayed. On 27 August/8 September,
Tchaikovsky told his brother Anatolii that he was
working on the piano score of the opera Evgenii Onegin [7].
On 12/24 September, Tchaikovsky reported from Moscow to Nadezhda von Meck: "I have
scored the first movement of the symphony" [8]. However, it is apparent from the
composer’s subsequent letters that the instrumentation of the first movement
was still unfinished at this point.
On 24 September/6 October, for the sake of his health [following the end
of his marriage], Tchaikovsky left Moscow
for Saint Petersburg, and
eventually abroad. In a letter of 16/28 October, he asked Petr Jurgenson to send on
to Clarens the copy-book containing
the sketches of the symphony, which he had left behind in Moscow [9].
"I have done a little work, and now I can say with some certainty that our
symphony will be finished by December at the latest...", he wrote to Nadezhda von Meck on 25 October/6
November 1877 [10].
The package with the sketches arrived in Switzerland when Tchaikovsky had
already moved on to Rome, and the sketches
did not reach him until 11/23 November. "You can imagine how anxious I was!",
wrote Tchaikovsky to Nadezhda von
Meck, "... if the symphony should have been lost, I would not have had the
strength to write it all out again from memory!" [11].
Tchaikovsky did not take up the orchestration straight away, presumably because
he did not want to interrupt the work he had already started on the opera Evgenii Onegin [12].
From December onwards, Tchaikovsky worked on the instrumentation of the symphony
almost without interruption. From his surviving letters we can follow the
course of work in detail:
- 2/14 December: "Tomorrow I shall throw myself into the symphony..." [13].
- 3/15 December: "... in the morning set about my symphony" [14].
- 4/16 December: "I sat, immersed in the instrumentation of the symphony..." [15]. "This is
the second day that I have worked on my symphony, and I am working very assiduously" [16].
- 5/17 December: The instrumentation of the symphony "... comes to me with
great difficulty. I wrote from morning to dinner time, until in the evening
I was so tired that I could do no more" [17]. "... I have worked diligently
on my symphony all day" [18].
- 6/18 December: "The first movement is almost ready. I can say with confidence
that this is my best composition" [19]. "I am very pleased with this symphony—it’s undoubtedly
the best that I’ve written, but it's not come without hard work, particularly
the first movement" [20].
- 7/19 December: "I’m probably near the end of the symphony, on which I’ve
worked with great vigour" [21].
- 9/21 December: "Not only am I occupying myself assiduously with scoring our symphony, I am utterly absorbed in this work. None of my previous
orchestral works ever cost me such labour, yet I have never felt such a love
for one of my own pieces. I found that I was pleasantly surprised by this
work. At first I wrote largely for the sake of completing the symphony, knowing
how difficult this task would eventually be. But little by little it
captured my enthusiasm, and now my difficulties have fallen away... perhaps
I am mistaken, but I think that this symphony is something out of the ordinary,
and that it is the best thing I have done so far... Now I... can wholly devote
myself to work in the knowledge that I am bringing forth something which,
in my opinion, shall not be forgotten..." [22].
- 10/22 December: "The first movement of the symphony is coming to an end.
Today I worked extremely hard, and I’m very tired" [23].
- 11/23 December: "Today I finished the most difficult movement of the symphony—the
first" [24]. On
the fair copy of the manuscript full score of the first movement is the note:
"Venice 23(11) December 1877".
- 12/24 December: "Today I set about the second half of the symphony's second
movement. The work becomes easier with each hour that passes. I hope that,
in spite of the interruption, the whole thing will be finished before our
New Year" [25].
"When I wrote the opera [Evgenii
Onegin], I did not experience the same feeling as with the symphony.
There I took a chance: perhaps it will do, or maybe nothing will come of it.
But while writing the symphony I’m fully aware that it is a composition out
of the ordinary, and far more perfect in form than anything I've written
previously" [26].
The date on the manuscript full score of the second movement indicates that
the instrumentation was completed on 13/25 December 1877.
- 15/27 December: "The symphony is absorbing me so much, that I haven't
the strength to tear myself away from it" [27]. "Finished the Scherzo. Very
tired" [28]. The
date on the manuscript of the third movement reads: "27/15 Dec 1877. Venezia".
- 16/28 December: "There can be no question that in these two weeks my state
of health, physically and mentally, has been excellent. A not inconsiderable
factor in this has been my symphony, the work on which has filled me
with enthusiasm... At the moment three movements are ready; I do not know
how long I shall be busy with the remainder—but it seems to me that these
three movements represent the crowning glory of all my musical achievements" [29].
- 20 December 1877/1 January 1878: "In this symphony I have succeeded in
writing something good—tomorrow I shall be reconciled to all former and future
misfortunes" [30].
Work on the symphony was interrupted for a few days by negotiations concerning
Tchaikovsky's appointment to a delegation at the Paris International Exhibition ("I
was preparing to start on the finale of the symphony today...") [31]. Tchaikovsky
declined to go on this tour: "It is essential that I should be as far away as
possible from all that noise and bustle... Peace, peace, peace and work—these
are the two things that I need right now", he wrote to Nikolai Rubinstein, who
had proposed his name for the delegation [32].
On 24 December/5 January, Tchaikovsky resumed the instrumentation of the
symphony: "This morning I set about my symphony, and worked all day; this is
the reason that I am so tired...", he wrote to Anatolii Tchaikovsky
the same day [33].
On 26 December/7 January, the composer reported: "Yesterday and today I did
not move from my desk, and today I have finished my beloved symphony" [34]. This statement
is corroborated by a note after the fourth movement of the manuscript score:
"San Remo 7 Jan 1878 (26 Dec 1877)".
A few more days were devoted to "putting the final touches to the full score,
which I shall take with me, so that in
Milan I might obtain a metronome and insert the correct tempi". On
29 December/10 January, Tchaikovsky sent the full score to Moscow [35].
On finishing the symphony, the composer wrote: "It seems to me that this
is my best work. Of my two latest creations, i.e. the opera and the symphony,
I favour the latter" [36].
"What lies in store for this symphony? Will it survive long after its author
has disappeared from the face of the earth, or straight away plunge into the
depths of oblivion? I only know that at this moment I... am blind to any shortcomings
in my new offspring. Yet I am sure that, as regards texture and form, it represents
a step forward in my development..." [37].
The Fourth Symphony was performed for the first time in Moscow at the tenth concert of the
Russian Musical Society on 10/22 February 1878, conducted by Nikolai Rubinstein, where
it had great success. On 25 November/7 December the same year, the symphony
was performed in Saint Petersburg
at the fifth symphony concert of the Russian Musical Society, conducted by Eduard Nápravník, where
it was a brilliant success. In a letter to the composer, Modest Tchaikovsky wrote
about the impression the symphony had made on the public [38].
In letters to Nadezhda von Meck
and Sergei Taneev, Tchaikovsky
disclosed more about the content of the Fourth Symphony. In a letter to Nadezhda von Meck of 17 February/1
March 1878, he set out a detailed programme for the symphony:
You asked me whether there is a definite programme to this symphony? Usually
in respect of a symphonic work I would answer: none whatsoever. And
indeed, this is the answer to your question. How can one put into words
the intangible feelings which one experiences, when writing an instrumental
work without a definite subject? This is a purely lyrical process, and essentially
a musical unburdening of the soul in music, similar to the way in which a
poet expresses himself in verse... In our symphony there is
a programme, i.e. it is possible to express in words what it is trying to
say, and to you, and only to you, I am able and willing to explain the meaning
both of the whole and of the separate movements. Of course, I can do this
only in a general way.
The introduction is the seed of the whole symphony, undoubtedly
the main idea:
This is fate: this is that fateful force which prevents the impulse
to happiness from attaining its goal, which jealously ensures that peace and
happiness shall not be complete and unclouded, which hangs above the head
like the sword of Damocles, unwaveringly, constantly poisoning the soul. An
invincible force that can never be overcome—merely endured, miserably.
The gloomy and hopeless feelings become more inflamed and intense. Is it
not better to escape from reality and to take refuge in dreams:

O joy! Out of nowhere a sweet and gentle day-dream appears. Some blissful,
radiant human image hurries by and beckons us away:
How wonderful! How distant now sounds the obsessive first theme of the
allegro! Gradually the soul is enveloped by daydreams. Everything gloomy and
joyless is forgotten. There it is, there it is—happiness!
No! These were merely daydreams, and Fate wakes us from them:
And so all life is an unbroken alternation of harsh reality with swiftly
passing dreams and visions of happiness... No haven exists... Drift upon that
sea until it engulfs and submerges you in its depths. That, roughly, is the
programme of the first movement.
The second movement of the symphony expresses another phase of sadness.
This is that melancholy feeling which comes in the evening when, weary from
one’s toil, one sits alone with a book—but it falls from the hand. There come
a whole host of memories. It is both sad that so much is now past and gone, yet pleasant to recall one’s youth—both regretting the past,
and yet not wishing to begin life over again. Life is wearying. It is pleasant
to rest and look around. Memories abound. Happy moments when the young blood
boiled, and life was satisfying; there are also painful memories, irreconcilable
losses. All this is now somewhere far distant. It is both sad, yet somehow
sweet to be immersed in the past.
The third movement expresses no definite feeling. It is made up of capricious
arabesques, of elusive images which can rush past in the imagination after
drinking a little wine and feeling the first phases of intoxication. The spirit
is neither cheerful, nor yet sad. Thinking about nothing, giving free rein
to the imagination, which somehow begins to paint strange pictures. Amid these
memories there suddenly comes a picture of drunken peasants and a street song
... Then, somewhere in the distance, a military procession passes. These are
completely disparate images which rush past in the head during sleep. They
have nothing in common with reality; they are strange, wild, and disjointed.
The fourth movement: if within yourself you find no reasons for joy, then
look at others. Go among the people. See how they can enjoy themselves, surrendering
themselves wholeheartedly to joyful feelings. Picture the festive merriment
of ordinary people. Hardly have you managed to forget yourself and to be carried
away by the spectacle of the joys of others, than irrepressible fate again appears and reminds you of yourself. But others do not care about
you, and they have not noticed that you are solitary and sad. O, how they
are enjoying themselves! How happy they are that all their feelings are simple
and straightforward. Reproach yourself, and do not say that everything in
this world is sad. Joy is simple, but powerful. Rejoice in the rejoicing of
others. To live is still possible.
Well, this is all that I can explain about the symphony. Of course, this
is vague and incomplete. But a basic quality of instrumental music is that
it cannot be subjected to detailed analysis. "Where words end, music begins",
as Heine remarked... This is the first time in my life that I have attempted
to put musical thoughts and images into words, and I cannot manage to do this
properly. I was extremely depressed during the winter when writing the symphony,
and it rather echoes my feelings at that time... They remain, in general,
memories of most terrible and dreadfully difficult times" [39].
The Finale of the symphony employs the Russian folk-song "In the Field
a Birch Tree Stood" (Во поле береза стояла).
It is interesting to note that sometime later, in reply to a critical letter
from Sergei Taneev [40], Tchaikovsky
wrote: "As to your remark that my symphony is programmatic, then I am in complete agreement. I just do not understand why you consider this to be a defect. It is the opposite that I fear—i.e. I should not wish symphonic works to flow from my pen that express nothing, and which consist of empty playing with chords, rhythms and modulations. My symphony is, of course, programmatic, but the programme is such that it is impossible to formulate in words. Such a thing would provoke ridicule and laughter. But is this not what a symphony, that is, the most lyrical of all musical forms, ought to be? Ought it not to express everything for which there are no words, but which gushes forth from the soul and cries out to be expressed? However, I must confess to you: in my naivety I imagined that the idea of the symphony was very clear, that in general outline its sense could be understood even without a
programme. Please do not think that I am trying to plume myself in front of you with my depth of feelings and grandeur of thoughts that are not susceptible of verbal expression. I was not even seeking to express a new idea. In essence my symphony is an imitation of Beethoven's Fifth, that is, I was imitating not his musical thoughts, but the
fundamental idea. [...] Furthermore, I’ll add that there is not a note in this symphony (that is, in mine) which I did not feel deeply, and which did not serve as an echo of sincere impulses within my soul. A possible exception is the middle of the first movement, in which there are contrivances, seams, glued-together bits—in a word, artificiality" [41].
All his life, Tchaikovsky retained a love for this symphony. At the end of
1878 he wrote: "I adore terribly this child of mine; it is one of only a few
works with which I have not experienced disappointment" [42]. Ten years later, when referring
to the symphony, he wrote "it turns out that not only have I not cooled towards
it, as I have cooled towards the greater part of my compositions, but on the
contrary, I am filled with warm and sympathetic feelings towards it. I don’t
know what the future may bring, but presently it seems to me that this is
my best symphonic work" [43].
Tchaikovsky was very anxious that the symphony should be published in the
best possible way [44].
When dispatching the full score to Moscow,
Tchaikovsky asked Jurgenson
to entrust the piano arrangement to Sergei Taneev or Karl Klindworth [45]. The next day
he approached Taneev with the
same request, and the latter readily agreed [46]. However, this work was delayed
until June 1878 because of a projected performance in Saint Petersburg, and Nikolai Rubinstein's intention
to perform the Scherzo from the symphony in Paris [47]. This seriously delayed publication
of the symphony. On 6/18 November 1878, Tchaikovsky wrote to Nadezhda von Meck: "Our
symphony is being printed" [48]. However, it was not until June 1879 that he checked
the proofs of the full score and piano arrangement. In August that year, Taneev’s arrangement for piano
duet was issued [49].
The full score did not appear in print until early September 1880 [50].
The symphony is dedicated to
Nadezhda von Meck—on the title page is the inscription: "Dedicated to my
best friend".
From:
Музыкальное наследие Чайковского (1958), pp. 220–229
English text copyright © 2006 Brett Langston
Notes:
- Letter 554 to Nadezhda von Meck, 1/13 May
1877 [back]
- Letter 557 to Nadezhda von Meck, 3/15 May
1877 [back]
- Letter 569 to Nadezhda von Meck, 27 May/8
June 1877 [back]
- Letter 593 to Nadezhda von Meck, 2/14 August
1877 [back]
- See letter 594 to Nadezhda von Meck, 11/23
August 1877 [back]
- Letter 595 to Nadezhda von Meck, 12/24
August 1877 [back]
- See letter 596 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
27 August/8 September 1877 [back]
- Letter 601 to Nadezhda von Meck, 12/24
September 1877 [back]
- Letter 620 to Petr Jurgenson, 25 October/6
November 1877 [back]
- Letter 626 to Nadezhda von Meck, 25 October/6
November 1877 [back]
- Letter 644 to Nadezhda von Meck, 11/23
November 1877 [back]
- See letter 621 to Modest Tchaikovsky,
17/29 October 1877, and letter 632 to Petr Jurgenson, 28 October/9
November 1877 [back]
- Letter 670 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
2/14–3/15 December 1877 [back]
- Letter 670 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
2/14–3/15 December 1877 [back]
- Letter 676 to Modest Tchaikovsky,
4/16 December 1877 [back]
- Letter 673 to Nadezhda von Meck, 4/16 December
1877 [back]
- Letter 677 to Petr Jurgenson, 5/17 December
1877 [back]
- Letter 678 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
5/17–7/19 December 1877 [back]
- Letter 679 to Nadezhda von Meck, 6/18 December
1877 [back]
- Postscript to Aleksei Sofronov in letter
680 to Modest Tchaikovsky,
6/18 December 1877 [back]
- Letter 681 to Sergei Taneev, 7/19 December
1877 [back]
- Letter 684 to Nadezhda von Meck, 9/21 December
1877 [back]
- Letter 683 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
8/20–10/22 December 1877 [back]
- Letter 686 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
11/23–14/26 December 1877 [back]
- Letter 689 to Nadezhda von Meck, 12/24
December 1877 [back]
- Letter 686 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
11/23–14/26 December 1877 [back]
- Letter 690 to Petr Jurgenson, 15/27 December
1877 [back]
- Letter 691 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
15/27–17/29 December 1877 [back]
- Letter 692 to Nadezhda von Meck, 16/28
December 1877 [back]
- Letter 696 to Nadezhda von Meck, 20 December
1877/1 January 1878 [back]
- See letter 700 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
21 December 1877/2 January 1878 [back]
- Letter 702 to Nikolai Rubinstein,
23 December 1877/4 January 1878 [back]
- Letter 708 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
24–25 December 1877/5–6 January 1878 [back]
- Letter 709 to Anatolii Tchaikovsky,
26 December 1877/7 January 1878 [back]
- See letter 711 to Nadezhda von Meck, 30 December
1877/11 January 1878 [back]
- Letter 713 to Nikolai Rubinstein,
1/13 January 1878 [back]
- Letter 711 to Nadezhda von Meck, 30 December
1877/11 January 1878 [back]
- "If ever a symphonic work produced a furore after
its performance, then it was your symphony. After the first movement the applause
was moderate—how should I say?—something like what is usually heard after the
first movement of a Beethoven
or Schumann symphony; after
the second movement there was considerably more applause—such that Nápravník was even obliged
to take a bow; after the Scherzo—a fff clamour, stamping and cries
of "bis". Nápravník
bowed once more... and the noise only intensified, until the conductor raised
his baton. Then everyone fell silent until only your pizzicato could be heard
... After this, more cries, calls, bows by Nápravník, and so on.
The end of the Finale was greeted with unanimous applause, calls and stamping
of feet ... The performance was very lively, but in the last movement... breathtaking"—letter
from Modest Tchaikovsky
to the composer, 23 November/5 December–25 November/7 December 1878 [back]
- Letter 763 to Nadezhda von Meck, 17 February/1
March 1878 [back]
- In a letter of 18/30 March 1878, Sergei Taneev wrote to Tchaikovsky:
"The trumpet fanfares which constitute the introduction, and which subsequently
appear from time to time, the changes of tempo in the second subject—all these
make one think that this is programme music..." — Klin House-Museum Archive [back]
- Letter 799 to Sergei Taneev, 27 March/8
April 1878 [back]
- Letter 985 to Nadezhda von Meck, 26 November/8
December 1878 [back]
- Letter 3572 to Nadezhda von Meck, 18/30
May 1888 [back]
- See letter 725 to Petr Jurgenson, 12/24 January
1878 [back]
- See letter 724 to Petr Jurgenson, 1/13 January
1878 [back]
- See letter 716 to Sergei Taneev, 2/14 January
1878, and Taneev’s reply
to Tchaikovsky, 8/20 November 1878 [back]
- See letter 1154 to Nadezhda von Meck, 14/26
April 1879 [back]
- Letter 959 to Nadezhda von Meck, 6/18 November
1878 [back]
- See letter 1297 to Nadezhda von Meck, 25 September/7
October 1879 [back]
- See letter from Petr Jurgenson to Tchaikovsky,
6/18 September 1880 — Klin House-Museum
Archive [back]
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