Richard Wagner and "A Life for the Tsar" on the Milan Stage: Difference between pages

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{{picture|file=RichardWagner.jpg|caption='''Richard Wagner''' (1813-1883)}}
'''''"A Life for the Tsar" on the Milan Stage''''' («Жизнь за царя» на миланской сцене) <ref name="note1"/> ([[TH]] 289 ; [[ČW]] 554) was Tchaikovsky's twenty-fourth music-review article for the Moscow journal ''Russian Register'' (Русские ведомости), in which it was published on 25 May 1874 {{OS}}, signed only with the initials "B.L.".
German composer (b. 22 May 1813 in [[Leipzig]]; d. 13 February 1883 in [[Venice]]), born '''''Wilhelm Richard Wagner'''.


==Tchaikovsky and Wagner==
It contains a translation by Tchaikovsky of an anonymous Italian critic's review of the first performance of [[Glinka]]'s ''A Life for the Tsar'' in Italy; a fascinating testimony showing how (a few years before the season of Russian concerts at the World Fair in [[Paris]] in 1878) a Western European audience in one of the great music capitals could react positively to Russian music, even in an opera which owed so much to the distinctive and (to western ears) unfamiliar musical idiom of Russian folksong as [[Glinka]]'s first masterpiece; and further confirmation of how highly Tchaikovsky valued ''A Life for the Tsar''—"the greatest Russian opera" (see also [[TH 263]])—and how much it pleased him to see Russian art finally being appreciated abroad (an important theme in some of his letters to [[Nadezhda von Meck]]).
Before 1862, the year that he enrolled in the newly established [[Saint Petersburg]] Conservatory, Tchaikovsky could only have heard very few, if any, excerpts from Wagner's operas, either at concerts of the Russian Musical Society (RMS) or during the summer season in [[Pavlovsk]] directed by Johann Strauss <ref name="note1"/>. Some thirty years later, in January 1893, Tchaikovsky would write an open letter to a Parisian newspaper protesting at an article which had appeared in ''Le Figaro'' and described the French conductor Lamoureux's recent concerts in [[Moscow]] and [[Saint Petersburg]] as a long-awaited opportunity for Russian audiences to hear Wagner's music because, as the author of the article insinuated, [[Anton Rubinstein]] had been so jealous of the German composer that, while he was at the helm of music life in his country, he had made sure that all doors were closed to Wagner in Russia! <ref name="note2"/> Tchaikovsky refuted this gross misrepresentation and jumped to the defence of his former teacher:


{{quote|Wagner's music is anything but unknown in Russia. Not only is it a fact that [[Anton Rubinstein]] never prevented its dissemination in our country, but it was actually he who, as the founder of the Imperial Russian Musical Society in 1859, acquainted our public with it. Wagner himself came to Russia in 1863 and organized in both capitals a long series of concerts which were very much epoch-making. Since then the music of this great German master has taken root in our country <ref name="note3"/>.}}
==History==
Completed by 25 May/6 June 1874 (date of publication). Concerning the Italian premiere of [[Glinka]]'s ''A Life for the Tsar'' in the Teatro Dal Verme, [[Milan]], on 8/20 May 1874, conducted by Francesco Antonio Faccio and featuring Jean-Baptiste Merly (Susanin), Aleksandra Menshikova (Antonida), and Eufemia Martella Barlani-Dini (Vanya). The production was financed by the soprano Aleksandra Gorchakova-Santagano, who also translated the libretto of the opera into Italian.


Although [[Anton Rubinstein]] was in fact not so keen on Wagner, it is fair to say that he did not actively prevent its entry into Russia, and, moreover, his younger brother [[Nikolay]], once he became director of the RMS branch in [[Moscow]], did regularly programme orchestral excerpts from Wagner's works into the concerts he conducted there <ref name="note4"/>. Thanks to this, many of Tchaikovsky's review articles of the 1870s (which he wrote at the same time as he was teaching at the [[Moscow]] Conservatory) contain very interesting comments on Wagner and his music (see the detailed list below). Indeed, Rosamund Bartlett has convincingly argued that "Tchaikovsky's reviews represent some of the most important and professional writing on Wagner in Russia in the nineteenth century" <ref name="note5"/>.
==English translation==
{{Copyright|English text copyright © 2009 Luis Sundkvist}}


To return, though, to another fact mentioned in this open letter, the "epoch-making" series of concerts which Wagner gave in Russia between February and April 1863 was one of the most memorable musical experiences of Tchaikovsky's life — perhaps not quite on a par with the revelation of [[Mozart]]'s ''Don Giovanni'' when he was 16, or his impressions of [[Glinka]]'s ''A Life for the Tsar'', or the overwhelming effect produced on him by [[Bizet]]'s ''Carmen'' in 1876, but certainly equally unforgettable. For the young Tchaikovsky, then in the first year of his studies at the Conservatory, attended all six of the concerts which Wagner gave in [[Saint Petersburg]]. At these Wagner, one of the most important conductors of the nineteenth century, had featured not just excerpts from his own operas but also conducted several symphonies by [[Beethoven]] (Nos. 3 and 5–8). In a letter of February 1879 to [[Nadezhda von Meck]] (quoted below), Tchaikovsky emphasized that only those who had heard these [[Beethoven]] symphonies in Wagner's interpretation could fully appreciate their greatness. Wagner would always remain one of the conductors Tchaikovsky most admired, alongside [[Nikolay Rubinstein]], [[Eduard Nápravník]], and [[Hans von Bülow]], even if in an article of 1875 he observed that in order to get a full picture of Wagner's talent in that respect it would have been necessary to hear him also conduct works by other composers ([[TH 306]]).
A few days ago, an event took place in [[Milan]] which ought to gladden all those who take an interest in the fortunes of Russian art, both in our country and abroad. On the 8th (20th) of May, the greatest Russian opera, [[Glinka]]'s ''A Life for the Tsar'', was performed in Italy for the first time, on the stage of the Teatro Dal Verme in the aforesaid city. We have become so familiar with the beauties of this wondrous work, it is so close and dear to us, that I hope I can give some joy to readers of the ''Russian Register'' by presenting them with a complete translation of a review <ref name="note2"/> which appeared in the feuilleton of a Milanese newspaper with a very large circulation—the ''Gazetta di Milano''—and which is especially interesting because this detailed review was written under the fresh impression of the premiere and published two days later.


As for his own music, Wagner at his six concerts in [[Saint Petersburg]] conducted the following excerpts (without any singers in all cases, it seems): the Sailors' Chorus and Senta's Ballad from ''Der fliegende Holländer'' (score completed in 1843); the Overture, the Act II March and chorus, Wolfram's Song to the Evening Star, and Elisabeth's aria from ''Tannhäuser'' (1845); the Preludes to Acts I and III, as well as Elsa's lament from ''Lohengrin'' (1848); the Prelude and "Liebestod" music from ''Tristan und Isolde'' (1859); the Overture, the Guild Meeting and Pogner's address from ''Die Meistersinger'' (not completed until 1867); Siegmund's Spring Song, the Ride of the Valkyries, and Wotan's Farewell and Magic Fire music from ''Die Walküre'' (1856); the Forging Song and Hammer Song from ''Siegfried'' (not fully completed until 1871); as well as the ''Faust'' overture (1855) <ref name="note6"/>.
After scolding the Milanese public for its inability to show the requisite respect (''dovuto raccoglimento'') for serious musical works and complaining that during performances the Milanese, instead of listening attentively, like to chat with their neighbours and rush from one box to another to pay visits, or noisily pop in and out of the buffet even before the intervals, the anonymous reviewer provides a brief but detailed chronological account of the run-up to the premiere.


Of these, three purely orchestral pieces would be praised in glowing terms by Tchaikovsky in later years: the ''Lohengrin'' prelude, the Ride of the Valkyries, and the ''Faust'' overture (see the references listed at the end). The music of Isolde's "Liebestod" as performed under Wagner's baton at one of these concerts also caused a strong impression on him, as we can see from an article he wrote in 1872 ([[TH 270]]), but when he heard a production of the whole opera for the first time in [[Berlin]] in January 1883 he was terribly disappointed — evidently because the development of the beautiful "Liebestod" theme was now combined with the singers' voices in a way that Tchaikovsky found wholly unsatisfactory (see letter 2184 to [[Nadezhda von Meck]] quoted below).
Expectations, he notes, were high. Those who had been allowed to attend the rehearsals told everyone that they liked the music very much, and that the performance would be splendid. As for the quality and quantity of the audience which would gather for the premiere of ''A Life for the Tsar'', some very bizarre rumours were circulating in this respect. For newsmongers had spread the rumour that all the Russian colonies in [[Nice]], [[Florence]], [[Rome]], and [[Naples]] had decided to come together in [[Milan]] for the premiere, so that no matter what they could applaud the finest work by their famous compatriot; moreover, that a host of Russians had arrived in [[Milan]] from [[Saint Petersburg]], [[Moscow]], Siberia, and the Caucasus, and had bought up all the seats, so that even if one offered pure gold it was impossible to get hold of a single box seat or armchair, or even just a place on one of the benches.


Indeed, the only operas by Wagner which Tchaikovsky would acknowledge as successful stage works were these two from his early period: ''Tannhäuser'' and ''Lohengrin''. Despite some reservations about the use of choruses in the latter (see [[TH 270]], which pokes fun at the cries of the townsfolk of Brabant as ''Lohengrin'' appears in his boat drawn by the swan!) — reservations which Tchaikovsky shared with [[Vladimir Stasov]] and the members of the "Mighty Handful", who attacked Wagner, amongst other things, for what they saw as his disdainful attitude towards the people — we know that he went to see ''Lohengrin'' on at least five occasions: in [[Saint Petersburg]] at some point between 1868 (when the opera was first produced in Russia) and 1872 <ref name="note7"/>, in [[Berlin]] (1883), [[Saint Petersburg]] (1886), [[Kiev]] (1890), and [[Paris]] (1892). ''Tannhäuser'' he heard on the stage at least three times, in [[Saint Petersburg]] (1876), [[Magdeburg]] (1888), and [[Hamburg]] (1892), the latter performance being particularly memorable because it was directed by the young [[Gustav Mahler]], whose genius as a conductor Tchaikovsky immediately recognized. In these two operas, where the orchestra part, in contrast to the later music dramas, may still be described as an accompaniment for traditional vocal numbers, there was clearly much that appealed to Tchaikovsky.
These empty rumours were soon refuted by the actual facts: the only Russians present were just a few compatriots living in [[Milan]] for the purpose of studying, as they say, ''bel canto italiano''. Immediately before the start of the performance, and even after the curtain had risen, it was still possible to get hold of seats at the box-office <ref name="note3"/>. This fact shows quite clearly that the audience which gathered in the Teatro Dal Verme for this premiere of ''A Life for the Tsar'' was chiefly drawn from the citizens of [[Milan]]. Furthermore, neither Russians nor Poles would have permitted themselves to burst out in such unseemly bawling as that which accompanied the dances in Act II.


As for Wagner's central idea of redemption through love, which is already present in these early works and would later underpin ''The Ring'' and '' Parsifal'' in particular, Thomas Kohlhase has rightly observed that Tchaikovsky never seems to have taken any notice of this <ref name="note8"/>. Tchaikovsky's fascination with Wagner was very much a response to his music, especially the splendid orchestration, rather than to the ideas expressed in his works. Between January and March 1878, we know from several letters exchanged with [[Nadezhda von Meck]] that Tchaikovsky was reading about Schopenhauer's philosophy, and although he found the latter quite interesting in some respects, he was not at all convinced by the German thinker's arguments in favour of renouncing the world altogether <ref name="note9"/>. Tchaikovsky may not have been aware of the connection between Schopenhauer's ideas and ''Tristan'' or ''The Ring'', but his instinctive rejection of a philosopher to whom Wagner repeatedly paid tribute in his works does suggest why the Russian composer judged the latter solely by the criteria of musical beauty and emotional credibility, rather than seeking in them any sort of enlightenment.
The opera begins with a magnificent overture in which the most important motifs of the work are announced and developed. It is written in symphonic style and is worthy of the great symphonist that [[Glinka]] most definitely was. A ''stretta'' in the style of [[Beethoven]], which anticipates the stormy blizzard at the end of Act IV, serves as an effective conclusion for the overture. The audience spontaneously burst into fervent applause at the end of this number.


If we return, however, to Wagner's concerts in Russia in 1863, when Tchaikovsky first heard some orchestral numbers from ''Lohengrin'', it is worth noting that his initial reaction to the famous prelude was quite atypical. In contrast to all the other Conservatory students and professional musicians in Saint Petersburg, Tchaikovsky had remained "cold and sceptical" about Wagner's music, according to [[Herman Laroche]], and even the ''Lohengrin'' prelude had failed to make an impression on him <ref name="note10"/>. Looking back on their student years, [[Laroche]] observed more generally that "Wagner's music produced very little effect on Pyotr Ilyich back then or, rather, he didn't even like it. But his orchestration was quite another matter" <ref name="note11"/>. Now amongst the scores which Tchaikovsky and [[Laroche]] played through in arrangement for piano duet during their first year at the Conservatory (1862–63) was also that of ''Lohengrin'' (which was probably readily available after the sensational effect caused by the prelude at Wagner's concerts), but it seems that of all the composers whose music they studied in this way, "Tchaikovsky least of all liked Richard Wagner. He even openly criticized the famous prelude to ''Lohengrin'', and only many years later did he reconcile himself to the whole opera" <ref name="note12"/>. One reason for the young Tchaikovsky's indifference towards this overture, which just eight years later he would describe as "perhaps the most successful and inspired composition by the celebrated German composer" ([[TH 259]]), may well have been that the musical style of ''Lohengrin'' was so different to the Italian operas for which he still had a weakness. It may also have been due to Tchaikovsky's reluctance to fall under the sway of sudden new fashions. As [[Laroche]] remarks in his memoirs, both he and Tchaikovsky had maintained an ironical stance towards such concepts as the "organically unified work of art" (''Gesamtkunstwerk'') and the "artwork of the future" (''Kunstwerk der Zukunft''), which even before 1863 had been zealously preached in Russia by the Wagnerian [[Aleksandr Serov]]. Thus, "in spite of Wagner and [[Serov]]" they had both continued to take delight in the Grand Opera settings of [[Meyerbeer]]! <ref name="note13"/>
The curtain then rises, and the spectator sees before him the village of Susanin, whose heroic deed will subsequently save the life of Tsar Mikhail <ref name="note4"/>. The scene here is a Russian one, but the scenery looks a bit ''Ostrogothic''. The amazing introductory chorus with its many figurations is performed perfectly by the members of the chorus, who had clearly rehearsed their parts splendidly. This music, with the unusual seriousness of its form, causes such a favourable impression that the unanimous cry of "''Da capo!''" is heard, and the audience's wish is indeed satisfied soon thereafter.


Full-scale productions of ''Lohengrin'' and ''Tannhäuser'' were mounted at the Mariinsky Theatre in [[Saint Petersburg]] in 1868 and 1874 respectively, but these operas were not staged at the Bolshoi Theatre in [[Moscow]] until the 1880s <ref name="note14"/>. In an article of 1875, Tchaikovsky laments the fact that [[Moscow]]'s principal stage was dominated by the standard Italian repertoire, in contrast to the situation in [[Saint Petersburg]], where theatre-goers had the chance to see more varied and interesting operas, including those two by Wagner ([[TH 301]]). It seems that before his visit to [[Bayreuth]] in the summer of 1876 to report on the inauguration of the new festival theatre with the first complete performance of the ''Ring'' cycle, the only operas by Wagner which Tchaikovsky had been able to hear on the stage were ''Lohengrin'' and ''Tannhäuser'' (and just once in each case). Now although the 'symphonic' use of recurring themes is not as pronounced in these two operas as in the later 'music dramas', it is significant that in those articles from the first half of the 1870s in which he discusses Wagner at length, Tchaikovsky already writes critically of his strong reliance on the orchestra, to which the vocal lines were wholly subordinated. This indicates, as Rosamund Bartlett has pointed out, that Tchaikovsky had been thinking a lot about Wagner's theories for the reform of opera, which he had probably read about not in the original essays as such, but in articles in the Russian and German press that referred to them <ref name="note15"/>.
After the chorus leaves, Signora Menshikova <ref name="note5"/> appears on the stage. She is playing Susanin's daughter Antonida, and her dress is colourful and gorgeous… far too gorgeous for a peasant-girl who has just stepped out of her hut. Signora Menshikova is a lady from the Russian aristocracy, and her characteristically austere demeanour betrays her Nordic origins. It is with great stylistic purity that she performs her original song, which I would prefer to call a ''melodic recitative'' instead. The part of Antonida is written in the highest register, but Signora Menshikova copes with the demands that this makes on her voice with remarkable ease: her high notes are distinguished by a rare transparency and pliancy (flessibilita), so that she is able to move from a ''pianissimo'' to a ''forte'' whilst sustaining the same pitch for a phenomenally long time. Those who are endowed with a fine musical ear observe, however, that this marvellous singer would be perfect were it not for the fact that her intonation tends to be too high sometimes. Nevertheless, the audience immediately appreciates the graceful vocal resources of Signora Menshikova and rewards her with generous applause.


For example, in 1872, before reviewing a performance in [[Moscow]] of the ''Faust'' overture — which in his view was comparable to [[Beethoven]] and [[Schumann]]'s finest symphonic works — Tchaikovsky devotes several paragraphs to a discussion of Wagner's leitmotif technique and its use in the characterization of personages ([[TH 270]]). His criticism in this article of the way in which Wagner assigned most of the expressive burden to the orchestra, to the detriment of the singers, was not based on much direct evidence, though. Referring to the only opera of Wagner's which he had heard on the stage so far, Tchaikovsky describes the choral groups in ''Lohengrin'' as "a characterless mass of voices echoing the orchestra as they sing". He also cites the way in which the love-duet from ''Tristan'' (with its announcement of the "Liebestod" theme) had been played without any singers at Wagner's concerts in 1863 as proof of how Wagner was at heart a symphonist who had no interest in writing for the voice! This notion of Wagner as a composer who had been led astray from his true symphonic vocation by a mixture of misguided theories and inordinate ambition is one that Tchaikovsky repeated in many subsequent articles and letters. He would formulate it most pithily perhaps in a statement he wrote down for an American newspaper in 1891 — ''[[Wagner and His Music]]'' (TH 319).
One of the most beautiful and original passages in this opera is the tenor's entry onstage, for in a very characteristic manner something like a ''Barcarolle'' (?) is sung off-stage to start with, as if coming from afar, and then it gradually comes closer and merges with the chorus and the recitatives of Susanin and Antonida <ref name="note6"/>. The details of this number are wonderful, especially the quick ''pizzicato'' accompaniment in the strings. The audience, however, did not applaud so loudly at the end of this number as I would have wished, because the displays of enthusiasm which followed certain other numbers should justly have gushed forth after this passage too.


But Tchaikovsky's criticisms of Wagner as an opera composer in the articles he wrote in the first half of the 1870s were of course based more on hearsay than on first-hand impressions, and this was in fact probably one of the main reasons why he accepted one last assignment as a music critic and agreed to report on the inaugural [[Bayreuth]] Festival in the summer of 1876. In spite of all his misgivings about Wagner's approach to opera, which, it must be stressed again, were until then informed mainly by an acquaintance with the German composer's theories rather than their practical realisation, Tchaikovsky had some reason to look forward to this notable event in the musical life of Europe. After all, at an RMS concert in [[Moscow]] in April 1875 he had been greatly impressed by a performance of the Ride of the Valkyries (see [[TH 306]]), and in the autumn of that year, together with [[Laroche]], [[Nikolay Rubinstein]], [[Karl Albrecht]], and the singing teacher Berta Walseck, Tchaikovsky had regularly attended the soirées at [[Karl Klindworth]]'s flat to hear him play through, act by act, his piano-vocal transcriptions of the four operas of the ''Ring'' cycle (which [[Klindworth]] was working on at the request of Wagner himself) <ref name="note16"/>.
The tenor, Signor Bertolini, sang his part well, with a mellow, sonorous, and beautiful voice that was capable of the most delicate gradations. Indeed, all of the subsequent music of the first act is full of interesting features. Signor Bertolini delivered his heroic stanzas with great fervour. The apogee of this production's success came with the performance of the trio, with its beautiful minor-key melody and final cadenza, in which the high "c" of the soprano left the already astonished audience truly flabbergasted. Signora Menshikova first sang it in a barely audible ''pianissimo'', and then, gradually intensifying her tone, went over into forte and subsequently descended to "h" and "a" without pausing for breath. Maybe ''[[La Patti]]'' and Frau Murska <ref name="note7"/> would have managed to achieve a similar effect: apart from them, I cannot think of anyone else capable of such a feat. The first act closed with unanimous curtain-calls for the singers.


As Tchaikovsky wrote in a letter to [[Hans von Bülow]], [[Klindworth]] had amazed them all with "his masterly interpretation of this complicated and difficult music" <ref name="note17"/>. Now Tchaikovsky felt himself greatly indebted to [[Klindworth]], his colleague at the Conservatory, because, through his contacts in his native Germany, [[Klindworth]] had done a lot to promote his music in the West (e.g. in 1871 he had made a piano arrangement of the overture-fantasia ''[[Romeo and Juliet]]'', which soon became very popular in Germany). [[Laroche]] would later suggest that it was out of a sense of gratitude to [[Klindworth]], who happened to be a fanatic Wagnerian, that Tchaikovsky had not dared to criticize ''The Ring'' as openly as he might have wished in the concluding chapters of his article on the first [[Bayreuth]] Festival: "Pyotr Ilyich trembled before him [i.e. [[Klindworth]]] like an aspen leaf, so he never dared to disclose his true feelings about the creator of the ''Nibelungen'', and, to my extreme surprise, even in his feuilleton articles he sugared the pill as far as he could, out of fear of angering [[Klindworth]]" <ref name="note18"/>. For there is no doubt that the experience of hearing the complete ''Ring'' cycle in August 1876 really did turn out to be a disappointment for Tchaikovsky. Or perhaps not so much a disappointment as a confirmation of his worst fears, since by the start of the summer of 1876 it seems that Tchaikovsky was no longer very keen on travelling to [[Bayreuth]]. Moreover, as he would himself admit at the end of his article ''[[The Bayreuth Music Festival]]'' (TH 314), he had failed to prepare himself adequately beforehand by studying Wagner's text for the four operas of ''The Ring ''<ref name="note19"/>.
The second act serves merely as a pretext for including some Polish folk dances; it does not add anything to the interest of the developing plot, which, being somewhat stationary and ponderous at this point, should not really be interrupted, unless of course the ballet happened to be of such a high quality that it could entertain the audience. Our theatre-goers, however, were bored by all this, and from quiet grumbling they came little by little to loud demonstrations of hostility, laughter, hissing, and shouting—all of which they could certainly have refrained from, if only out of respect for the music, which was in no way to blame for this! For the music of these dances is magnificent and instrumented with such a fine and delicate touch that it is almost too much for a ballet.


Tchaikovsky arrived in [[Bayreuth]] on 12 August 1876 {{NS}}, just in time for the first performance of ''Das Rheingold'' the following day, which opened the inaugural ''Ring'' cycle. Already waiting for him in this picturesque Bavarian town were [[Laroche]], who had also been commissioned to report on the festival for a Russian newspaper, and [[Klindworth]], who had tried in vain to persuade Tchaikovsky to come earlier so as not to miss the dress rehearsals <ref name="note20"/>. It was probably armed with a letter of recommendation from [[Klindworth]] that Tchaikovsky later that day made his way to Wagner's house, perhaps hoping to obtain an exclusive interview (!) for the journal which was paying his travel expenses, but it is understandable that Wagner on the eve of the realisation of his boldest dreams was refusing to receive any callers. Tchaikovsky just seems to have caught a glimpse of the great German composer from afar, whilst watching the reception for Emperor Wilhelm I at the railway station (see Chapter IV of [[TH 314]]).
These dances were choreographed by a ballet-master (whether he was Russian or Polish I know not) who had been invited specially for this occasion, and who brought onto our stage those very folk dances which are so popular in [[Saint Petersburg]], [[Moscow]], and [[Warsaw]]. The resulting effect was all the more lamentable in that our male and female dancers, who are such splendid performers of their local dances, got into a muddle with the peculiar rhythms of the Mazurka and Krakowiak. All the same, the audience should have abstained from its jeering and bawling, and considered that if we were to head for Russia or Poland in order to show the public there our ''Furlana'' or ''Monferrino'' dances, we would cut a very sorry figure indeed.


In two letters to his brother [[Modest]] quoted below and Chapters IV and V of ''[[The Bayreuth Music Festival]]'' (TH 314), Tchaikovsky gives a vivid account of his impressions of the festival, as well as of the inconveniences which he and the many other visitors had to endure in [[Bayreuth]], a small town that seems to have been quite unprepared for such an influx of tourists! According to some comments later made by [[Laroche]] for [[Modest Tchaikovsky]]'s biography of the composer, in private conversations with him at the time Tchaikovsky had made no secret of his dislike for ''The Ring'', but whenever [[Klindworth]] was present he had been careful not to say anything against Wagner. On the whole, though, "listening to and watching the never-ending acts of Wagner's tetralogy (especially ''Das Rheingold'' and Act I of ''Götterdämmerung'', both of which dragged on for some two hours without any interval); having to sit there locked up in the dark and tropically hot amphitheatre; the futile attempts to make sense of anything in the verbose libretto, which was, moreover, written in an archaic language that even the Germans themselves had trouble understanding — all this had a dispiriting effect on Pyotr Ilyich, and he literally only came to life again after the last notes had rung out and he was sitting in front of a tankard of beer waiting for dinner to be served, though the latter was in most cases quite unpalatable" <ref name="note21"/>.
It would be better if in future performances the second act were left out, or if our ballet-master Tratesi were able to adapt the dances in his manner, that is in the classical style of contemporary choreography <ref name="note8"/>.


Despite [[Laroche]]'s suggestion that Tchaikovsky had not dared to voice in public his true opinion of ''The Ring'', for fear of offending [[Klindworth]], the concluding paragraphs of his article for the ''Russian Register'' ([[TH 314]]) are remarkably frank and, taking into account all the observations about Wagner that Tchaikovsky made in the course of his life, there is no way that one could accuse him of inconsistency:
''Post nubila Phoebus'' <ref name="note9"/>. The third act was the one the audience liked the most: its success was complete, indisputable, and spectacular. The curtain rises to show the peasant-boy Vanya, an orphan adopted by Susanin, busy at work and singing a characteristic little song in true Russian style: it is gentle, melodious, but at the same time a bit strange (''bizzarra'') because of its now long, now short (?) rhythmic periods.


{{quote|And so, by way of conclusion, I should like to say something about the overall impression which this performance of ''Der Ring des Nibelungen'' has left me with. Firstly, it has left me with a vague recollection of many strikingly beautiful musical features, especially of a symphonic kind, which is very strange, given that Wagner least of all intended to write operas in a symphonic style. Secondly, it has left me with respectful admiration for the author's tremendous talent and his incredibly rich technique. Thirdly, it has left me with misgivings as to whether Wagner's view of opera is correct. Fourthly, it has left me greatly exhausted, but at the same time it has also left me with the wish to continue my study of this most complicated work of music ever written.}}
Signora Barlani-Dini <ref name="note10"/> gives a perfect interpretation of this appealing role. It is almost as if [[Glinka]] had written the part specially for her, taking into account the manner of her singing. In her male costume she plays the blonde Vanya, with his quaint rustic simplicity, so convincingly, that it seems as if she had long ago familiarized herself with the customs of a Russian peasant. Signora Barlani-Dini's voice is stupendous: it is distinguished by a pathetic and sonorous timbre which really does tug at the heartstrings. Then we must also not forget her excellent pronunciation, great expressiveness, and broad phrasing, which is ideally suited to the classical style of [[Glinka]]'s cantilenas.


Although Tchaikovsky does not seem to have subsequently studied the scores of the four operas of ''The Ring'' in the same way that he went over the score of ''Lohengrin'' when working on the orchestration of ''[[The Maid of Orleans]]'' in 1879, hoping to learn something from Wagner's techniques (as he explained in letter 1171 to [[Nadezhda von Meck]]), or that of ''Parsifal'' in the summers of 1884 and 1886, towards the end of 1877 he did attend a performance of ''Die Walküre'' in [[Vienna]], mainly with a view to checking his first impressions from [[Bayreuth]] the year before. This renewed experience of ''Die Walküre'' resulted in a fascinating letter to [[Nadezhda von Meck]] (letter 661, also quoted below) in which Tchaikovsky re-iterated his view of Wagner as a symphonist of genius who had unfortunately strayed into the genre of opera. Written at a time when he was working on ''[[Yevgeny Onegin]]'', Tchaikovsky's letter recording his thoughts about ''Die Walküre'' also contains an interesting remark about how it was impossible to feel any sympathy for "all those Wotans and Brünnhildes" because they were "so impossible and un-human" as characters. This criticism of Wagner's use of Nordic mythological figures in his operas, which ties in with his rejection at around the same time of the "Egyptian princesses and pharaohs" depicted by [[Verdi]] in ''Aida'', shows how it was indeed partly in reaction to Wagner that Tchaikovsky "developed and articulated his own views about the composition of opera" <ref name="note22"/>. Indirectly perhaps, the negative experience of [[Bayreuth]] and the dense mythical narration of ''The Ring'' with its gods, giants, dragons, and dwarves, caused Tchaikovsky to take up with such enthusiasm [[Yelizaveta Lavrovskaya]]'s suggestion in May 1877 that he should write an opera based on [[Pushkin]]'s ''[[Yevgeny Onegin]]'' — an opera which he entitled "lyrical scenes", and in which, significantly, he set out to depict the emotions of "real people, not puppets"! <ref name="note23"/>
After this little song, Susanin comes in and sings with Vanya a lively, energetic, and bellicose duet, which went down so well with our public. I shall make use of this opportunity to acquaint the reader with the bass Signor Merly <ref name="note11"/>—I say "bass", although one could equally well call him a baritone, because he could certainly sing baritone parts if he so wished, being endowed, like Cotogni <ref name="note12"/> and Alighieri, with an exceptional tessitura which extends to high "g". Signor Merly has a strong voice, full of powerful dramatic expression, but when he wants to he can also sing gently and delicately as the consummate artist that he is: he understood perfectly what rhythmic accents [[Glinka]]'s music requires, as the latter almost always avoids the usual clichés in his rhythmic figures, though consistently remaining simple, precise, and uncommonly original in his use of rhythm. The duet between Vanya and Susanin makes such a favourable impression that the audience insists on it being repeated—perhaps rather importunately because having to repeat this number is very exhausting for the venerable singers, who still have so much left to sing in the course of the performance.


Tchaikovsky, unlike [[Laroche]], did not stay on at [[Bayreuth]] for further performances of the ''Ring'' cycle but rushed off (via [[Nuremberg]] and [[Vienna]]) to [[Verbovka]] in the Ukraine, to spend the rest of the summer with his sister [[Aleksandra Davydova|Aleksandra]]'s family. It is worth emphasizing, though, that in spite of the feeling of "exhaustion" which the tetralogy had left him with, in his review of the festival he sincerely praised the "tremendous artistic endeavour" which Wagner had accomplished in creating a whole new theatre and festival out of nothing. For Tchaikovsky, this notable event was a vindication of the value of art against the utilitarians, both in Russia and the West, who believed only in technical progress (see Chapter V of [[TH 314]]). Ironically, the unprofitability of this first festival at [[ Bayreuth]] almost scuppered Wagner's ambitious project, as the ticket sales failed to cover the huge expenses, leaving a debt of some 148,000 marks and preventing a repeat of the festival until 1882, when ''Parsifal'' was premiered. Tchaikovsky did not travel to [[Bayreuth]] on that occasion…
The beauties of the third act followed one another in rapid succession, without ever repeating themselves and becoming all the more impressive. After a nice syllabic (?) chorus of peasants there begins a great quartet, which I consider to be not just the finest passage in the whole opera, but indeed one of the musical wonders of the past, present, and future. To tell the truth, the audience was not at all insensitive to these impressions of such a novel and elevated kind: the cantilena, comprised of six rather than eight bars, produces a most felicitous effect, and both the prayer with the long sustained chords and the exciting Allegro were received with stormy unanimous applause.


However, it was not just with a sense of "liberation from captivity" (as he put it in a letter to his brother [[Modest]]) that Tchaikovsky boarded the train from [[Bayreuth]] on 18 August 1876 {{NS}}, but also with plenty of impressions in his musical baggage. This much is clear from a conversation which he had with [[Nikolay Kashkin]] once he was back in [[Moscow]] for the start of the new academic year at the Conservatory: "With regard to ''[[The Tempest]]'' [1873] Tchaikovsky and I had the following conversation shortly after his return from [[Bayreuth]], in 1876. When he set off there he was not a very ardent Wagnerian, and he was even less so on his return. After listening to ''Der Ring der Nibelungen'' he was dissatisfied not so much with the music as with the overall nature of the subject and its pomposity. In the music, on the other hand, there was a lot that he considered to be touched by genius. Recalling the introduction to ''Das Rheingold'', which is based entirely on a figuration of a very simple chord, he once said: 'Now that is a true genius who has the courage to carry out his conception in all its purity. I had exactly the same idea for the opening of ''[[The Tempest]]'', but was afraid that it might appear as far too monotonous, and that's why I added some small phrases for the wind instruments, which I didn't really need at all'" <ref name="note24"/>.
The scene between Susanin and the Polish soldiers, and then with his daughter, is full of dramatic colour and commanded the audience's undivided attention. The act closed with a small female chorus in 5/4 time and with a dramatic aria by Antonida, which Signora Menshikova performed so perfectly that she was called out again after the curtain had fallen.


A number of works by Tchaikovsky have been described as showing signs of Wagner's influence — indeed, already in his lifetime some Russian critics argued that he was moving closer to Wagnerian practice in his later operas, such as '' [[The Enchantress]]'' (1885–87) <ref name="note25"/>. However, Thomas Kohlhase has called for caution in this respect, pointing out that many of the associations that have been made (e.g. between ''Tristan'' and Tchaikovsky's last opera ''[[Iolanta]]'') are speculative or even downright subjective <ref name="note26"/>. There is one work, though, in which Tchaikovsky did openly recognize that he had been influenced by what he had heard in [[Bayreuth]] in August 1876, namely the fantasia ''[[Francesca da Rimini]]''.
The fourth act, which comprises a truly dramatic situation and produces a profoundly gripping effect, can boast passages of such artistic force as is only within the reach of the greatest masters: [[Gluck]], [[Meyerbeer]], [[Weber]], [[Wagner]], [[Verdi]], and a few others. The first scene is rather insignificant, but it does give Signora Barlani-Dini the opportunity to display her splendid qualities. The dramatic interest begins to unfold in the following scene, in the depths of the forest where Susanin leads the Poles in order to let them perish of cold and hunger, at the price of his own life, which he sacrifices for the Tsar <ref name="note13"/>.


It is interesting that Tchaikovsky's original plan had been to write an opera on the tragic story of Francesca and Paolo from [[Dante]]'s ''Inferno''. In February 1876, he received a libretto on this subject from [[Konstantin Zvantsev]], who was a fanatical Wagnerian and had translated into Russian the librettos of ''Lohengrin'' and ''Tannhäuser ''<ref name="note27"/>. However, [[Zvantsev]] seems to have demanded that the opera should be written according to Wagnerian principles, and since Tchaikovsky would not accept any such interference in his creative work, nothing came of this projected opera (see [[TH 212]]). Still, the idea so appealed to Tchaikovsky that one of the first tasks he applied himself to upon his return to Russia in the autumn of 1876 was to write ''[[Francesca da Rimini]]'' as a symphonic fantasia. It was completed by November that year and premiered in [[Moscow]] on 25 February/9 March 1877. When the fantasia received its first performance in [[Saint Petersburg]] the following year (on 11/23 March 1878), Tchaikovsky, who was then living abroad, was informed of its great success by his relatives and friends in Russia, including [[Sergey Taneyev]], who passed on to him some observations made by [[César Cui]] after the concert. [[Cui]], the only member of the "Mighty Handful" who had attended the [[Bayreuth]] festival in 1876, had pointed out that ''[[Francesca da Rimini]]'' betrayed the influence of ''The Ring'' (this was apparently not meant as a criticism). In his reply to [[Taneyev]] (letter 799 quoted below) Tchaikovsky agreed completely with [[Cui]]'s observation and added that he himself had felt this influence when working on his fantasia! Tchaikovsky was clearly not at all embarrassed to recognize such a 'debt' to Wagner, for earlier in 1878 he had admitted in another letter to [[Taneyev]], this time concerning ''[[Yevgeny Onegin]]'', that "my music, in spite of myself, is suffused with Schumannism, Wagnerism, Chopinism, Glinkaism, Berliozism, and all the other 'isms' of our time" <ref name="note28"/>. Besides, if even Maestro [[Verdi]] had learnt a thing or two from his great German contemporary and decided to write a 'Wagnerian' opera, ''Aida'' (as Tchaikovsky had argued in an article of 1872 — see [[TH 266]]), Tchaikovsky realised that it was impossible to escape the spell of Wagner's mastery of the orchestra. In an interview of 1892 ([[TH 324]]) he would again emphasise the debt which all European composers of the second half of the nineteenth century, himself included, owed to Wagner (see the relevant extract from this interview below).
Here [[Glinka]]'s music reaches the loftiest heights. The bass aria is of course one of the best in the whole repertory: the accompaniment of the strings, which so vividly conveys the suffering of Susanin's grief-stricken heart as he sacrifices himself for the fatherland, causes a staggering impression. After that, the orchestra plays some music which illustrates a winter blizzard in the forest—only the professional musicians in the audience immediately appreciate the astonishing beauty of this contrapuntal work. The rest of the audience, on the other hand, instinctively senses its strong dramatic effect and bursts out into applause. At the end of the act Signor Merly too was rewarded with loud ovations.


Thus, it seems that by 1878 the negative impressions of the [[Bayreuth]] festival in 1876 and of that performance of ''Die Walküre'' in [[Vienna]] at the end of 1877 — that is exhaustion at having to listen to "endless symphonies" on subjects which were not close to Tchaikovsky's heart, and where the singers, however much they were prominent on the stage, had a merely peripheral role in the musical development of the 'drama' — had given way to a more objective appraisal of Wagner's merits by Tchaikovsky. Certainly, his love for Wagner's early operas, ''Tannhäuser'' and ''Lohengrin'', would always remain unabated, especially the second of these. While studying the score of ''Lohengrin'' in May 1879, he wrote to [[Nadezhda von Meck]] (letter 1171 quoted below) that no matter how loathsome he found Wagner's personality and Wagnerism as a principle, he could not but admire his "tremendous musical gift", which had nowhere manifested itself so brightly as in ''Lohengrin'', "the crown in Wagner's oeuvre"! It was probably his view of ''Lohengrin'' as the pinnacle of Wagner's achievement that led him to have rather high expectations of another early opera, ''Der fliegende Holländer''. On 16 March 1880 {{NS}}, Tchaikovsky informed his brother [[Modest]] that he had decided to stay in [[Berlin]] for an extra day because "I saw a bill-board advertising a performance this evening of ''Der fliegende Holländer'', which I have been yearning to hear for such a long time", and at the end of this letter he added: "How glad I am that tonight I shall get to hear ''The Dutchman''!" <ref name="note29"/>. However, as was to happen three years later when he heard ''Tristan'' for the first time (again in [[Berlin]]), this opera with its bleak atmosphere proved to be a disappointment for Tchaikovsky and he didn't even stay until the end.
The fifth act is very short and opens with a chorus celebrating Tsar Mikhails accession to the throne <ref name="note14"/>. Antonida, Vanya, and Sobinin are present at the popular festivities, but with a heart crushed by grief over Susanin's death. This grief is expressed in an ''arioso'' by Vanya, which is then followed by a harmonious trio. In a strange but very effective fashion this piece is accompanied just by the cellos, reinforced by a double bass. Signora Barlani-Dini performs it as perfectly as everything else that she sang, and is rewarded with enthusiastic applause. The finale of the opera is a solemn hymn with a procession of horses, the chiming of bells, and joyous cries of the people.


In the late summer of 1884, Tchaikovsky decided to study the score of Wagner's last work, the 'sacred festival drama' ''Parsifal'', and he recorded his impressions in another extensive letter to his benefactress: as on so many other occasions, he first paid tribute to Wagner's 'symphonic' mastery, in particular the richness of his chromatic texture, before proceeding to criticize in the harshest terms the way in which Wagner assigned a merely secondary role to the singers, as Tchaikovsky saw it, and also reproaching him for his choice of such an "incredibly stupid subject" teeming with various "fairy-tale figures" that were more suitable for a ballet than for a serious dramatic work (see letter 2545 quoted below) <ref name="note30"/>. Again, Tchaikovsky, for whatever reasons, seems to have been unable to respond to the philosophical and religious symbolism of Wagner's works. Nevertheless, ''Parsifal'' clearly interested Tchaikovsky from a musical point of view, since in the summers he spent at [[Maydanovo]] in 1886 and 1887 he studied and played through the score of the opera on several occasions <ref name="note31"/>. Indeed, [[Laroche]] emphasized in his memoirs of the composer that when Tchaikovsky resumed his study of ''Parsifal'' in 1886 he had been tremendously enthusiastic about the final scene of Act I, and that from then on his attitude to Wagner had changed, even to the extent of influencing some technical aspects of his own later works <ref name="note32"/>. [[Laroche]] does not specify what exactly so fascinated Tchaikovsky about the ending of Act I of ''Parsifal'', but it is very likely that it was the wonderful intonation of the Bell Motif as the knights of the Grail enter the hall of their castle, followed by the ethereal chorus announcing the Motif of Faith from the dome <ref name="note33"/>. Perhaps the Grail Motif (the so-called [[Dresden]] Amen), which resounds later in this scene, also appealed to Tchaikovsky as he would have remembered this rousing Lutheran theme from [[Mendelssohn]]'s ''Reformation'' symphony that he had heard in [[Paris]] in 1879 (see the entry on [[Mendelssohn]]). Since Tchaikovsky did not travel to [[Bayreuth]] again in 1882, or any of the subsequent years during which the festival was organized by Wagner's widow, he obviously had no chance of seeing an actual performance of ''Parsifal'', as Wagner had stipulated that it must not be staged anywhere other than [[Bayreuth]]. However, at a concert in [[Paris]] on 23 March 1889 {{NS}}, Tchaikovsky, who stayed in the French capital for a few weeks during his second conducting tour of Western Europe, did hear some orchestral excerpts from ''Parsifal ''<ref name="note34"/>.
The solemnity and grandeur of this finale are beyond all doubt. In the Teatro Dal Verme, however, the final scene is staged abysmally: the procession of horses is quite lamentable, the action on the stage a clumsy and chaotic mess. Two horses, instead of walking to the right, insist on galloping to the left and cause universal pandemonium. Some impatient spectators, exhausted by the length of the opera, leave before the end, and, as a result, the epilogue of the opera is not crowned with the applause which both the music and the performers so richly deserve.


It was, however, in the context of his first concert tour to the west (December 1887–March 1888) that Tchaikovsky was able to attend some memorable stagings of Wagner operas. Thus, in [[Leipzig]] he heard performances of ''Das Rheingold'' on 4 January {{NS}} and ''Die Meistersinger'' von Nürnberg on 10 February 1888 {{NS}}. Both operas were conducted by [[Arthur Nikisch]], and ''Die Meistersinger'' was in fact specially staged at Tchaikovsky's request, since he had never heard it before! <ref name="note35"/> In a letter to his brother [[Modest]] from [[Prague]] on 14 February {{NS}}, he just mentions the fact of this performance of ''Die Meistersinger'', adding briefly that it was "very interesting". In Chapter IX of his ''[[Autobiographical Account of a Tour Abroad in the Year 1888]]'' ([[TH 316]]), Tchaikovsky enthusiastically praises [[Nikisch]]'s ability in guiding the orchestra through the "difficult and intricate scores of Wagner's operas", but unfortunately says nothing about ''Die Meistersinger'' as such. It is also in this fascinating ''[[Autobiographical Account]]'' (TH 316) that Tchaikovsky reflects on how the idolization of [[Brahms]] by conservative concert-goers and critics in Germany was a reaction to Wagnerism. Significantly, despite all his respect for [[Brahms]]'s "proud refusal to make any concessions to triumphant Wagnerism", Tchaikovsky was never moved, let alone fascinated, by [[Brahms]]'s music, whereas he clearly was by Wagner's (see Chapter VI of [[TH 316]]).
Amongst the latter I should above all like to single out the conductor Signor Faccio <ref name="note15"/>, who, with his sensible and energetic commands, was the very soul of the whole performance. It is to him in particular that we are indebted for such an artistically accomplished production—something that was by no means to be expected from the Teatro Dal Verme. In studying, rehearsing, and conducting [[Glinka]]'s opera so well, Signor Faccio has once again proved his talent and skill. He had never heard or seen it before, and, in order to fully appreciate the high artistic standards which he obtained from his orchestra and the singers, one should also think of all the difficulties he had to overcome in carrying out the rehearsals, correcting the individual parts, and painstakingly studying the finest details. If it is true that the Russians worship their [[Glinka]] as if he were a god, then they ought to be very grateful to the artists who performed ''A Life for the Tsar'', and especially to Signor Faccio, who really was the very soul of this whole enterprise.


In March 1889, when Tchaikovsky was abroad on his second major concert tour, Angelo Neumann's travelling Wagner company put on several performances of the complete ''Ring'' cycle at the Mariinsky Theatre in [[Saint Petersburg]]. In an interesting letter from [[Hannover]] to his nephew [[Vladimir Davydov]] (letter 3814 quoted below), Tchaikovsky notes with some frustration that his own tour wasn't receiving any attention back home, whereas the German newspapers were awash with reports about the triumphant first performances of ''The Ring'' in Russia. In this letter he also expresses his fears that very soon Russia, too, would have her own fanatic Wagnerians. (Tchaikovsky was certainly right about this, and the Wagner craze in Russia was such that Neumann's company returned there again two years later, in 1891, this time staging ''The Ring'' in [[Moscow]]). However, it was not just fanatic devotees who rallied to this first performance of ''The Ring'' in [[Saint Petersburg]]: serious musicians such as [[Nikolay Rimsky-Korsakov]], [[Sergey Taneyev]], and [[Aleksandr Glazunov]] were, like Tchaikovsky, profoundly impressed by Wagner's orchestration <ref name="note36"/>. A diary entry for 13/25 March 1889, made while Tchaikovsky was in [[Paris]], testifies to his surprise, and perhaps even alarm, when he found out that [[Glazunov]] was a Wagnerian!
No less gratitude is due to the venerable Madame Gorchakova <ref name="note16"/>, who, with unwearying zeal and sparing no pains or sacrifices, helped to bring about this magnificent production, which is bound to heighten and spread the glory of her renowned compatriot.
 
{{right|''"B. L."''}}
Citing the fact that in the autumn of 1889 Tchaikovsky attended RMS concerts in [[Moscow]] and [[Saint Petersburg]] which included excerpts from ''Tristan und Isolde'' (thereby allowing him to refresh his earlier impressions of the opera), David Brown and Arkady Klimovitsky have made a strong case for the influence of ''Tristan'', with its novel harmony, dissonances, and chromatic texture, on Tchaikovsky's last opera ''[[Iolanta]]'' (composed between July and December 1891) <ref name="note37"/>. However, as mentioned above, Thomas Kohlhase has recommended some caution in making such comparisons, and for many listeners it would surely be difficult to hear any direct echoes of Wagner in Vaudémont's Romance, for example, or even in the sombre overture to this one-act opera?
 
The last two performances of Wagner operas attended by Tchaikovsky happened to be stagings of his two life-long favourites: ''Tannhäuser'' in [[Hamburg]], in January 1892 (conducted by [[Gustav Mahler]]) and ''Lohengrin'' in [[Paris]], in June of that year <ref name="note38"/>.
 
It is interesting that in most of the memoirs of Tchaikovsky written after his death which deal with the question of his musical sympathies, the Russian composer's distance to Wagner is stressed. Thus, [[Glazunov]], for example, who first became acquainted with Tchaikovsky in the autumn of 1884, later wrote: "Pyotr Ilyich was rather indifferent to the music of the composers of the new Russian school, and likewise to the works of [[Liszt]] and Wagner, since by his very nature he was alien to their tendency and principles" <ref name="note39"/>. Tchaikovsky, however, in an interview he gave to a [[Saint Petersburg]] newspaper in 1892 ([[TH 324]]) protested that it was wrong to speak of his estrangement from the "new Russian school", and, similarly, he paid tribute to Wagner's overwhelming influence on all European composers, including of course himself and his Russian contemporaries! It might be argued that [[Glazunov]] did not know Tchaikovsky so well, but even such a close friend as [[Kashkin]] still emphasized the negative side of Tchaikovsky's attitude to Wagner: "Pyotr Ilyich could not stand bombast in music, and that is why he did not rate [[Liszt]] particularly highly. As for Wagner, he valued him immeasurably more, but the ultra-Romantic sub-text of the plots in Wagner's last operas, their strained symbolism, and the no-less strained solemnity of the action were profoundly antipathetic to him, so that he did not even [try to] hear ''Parsifal'', even though he knew the work from excerpts which had been performed at concerts, as well as from the piano reduction" <ref name="note40"/>.
 
A certain understandable patriotism may have induced these memoirists to stress Tchaikovsky's independence from the most famous composer of the nineteenth century after [[Beethoven]], but, from the evidence presented here, it would clearly be wrong to describe Tchaikovsky's attitude to Wagner as aloof in any way. As Rosamund Bartlett rightly points out, Tchaikovsky "wrote a great deal about Wagner during his lifetime, and certainly more than any other Russian composer" <ref name="note41"/>. Likewise, we have seen how Tchaikovsky himself was not ashamed to admit to having been influenced by Wagner (notably in the case of ''[[Francesca da Rimini]]''). Of all his contemporaries, [[Herman Laroche]] was probably closest to the mark when he remarked that the influence of Wagner was "undeniable and very palpable" in his final years. One reason why, despite his veneration of [[Mozart]] and love of Italian opera, Tchaikovsky responded so intensely to Wagner (even when disagreeing with him) was perhaps the following trait in his character, as described by [[Laroche]]: "Having been initially received by our critics as a product of Conservatory routine and backwardness, he, on the contrary, showed a keen sympathy for the advances of our century in everything that concerned music, and, just as he searched for 'new paths' himself in many cases, so he also appreciated and liked this striving in others" <ref name="note42"/>. Wagner, as one of the greatest pioneers in music, could not fail to awaken Tchaikovsky's sympathy!
 
==General Reflections on Wagner==
Bold references indicate particularly detailed or interesting references.
 
===In Tchaikovsky's Music Review Articles===
* [[TH 266]] — deals with what Tchaikovsky sees as Wagnerian influences in [[ Verdi]]'s ''Aida''.
* '''[[TH 270]]''' — Tchaikovsky describes Wagner as "undoubtedly the most prominent personality in European music"; observes ironically that one of Wagner's chief aims had been to draw attention to himself and achieve fame at all costs, in contrast to such composers as "[[Bach]], [[Haydn]], [[Mozart]], [[ Beethoven]], [[Mendelssohn]], [[Schumann]], and [[Glinka]]" who just concentrated on their music; refers critically to Wagner's "delusions and self-aggrandizement"; states briefly but categorically that Wagner's goal of introducing ''truth'' into opera, whose effect was after all based on "conventional, but beautiful lies", was a quixotic endeavour; discuses the leitmotif technique; points out that Wagner's obsession with the orchestra meant that the singers were very much relegated to the periphery, and that this prevented any convincing individual characterization of his heroes; speaks admiringly of Wagner's technical mastery, but asks whether his "tremendous symphonic talent" was not perhaps out of place in the operatic genre; concludes that Wagner had been led astray from his true vocation as a symphonist by "preconceived theories" and "misguided ambition"; praises enthusiastically the ''Faust'' overture; and makes some ironic remarks about Wagner's anti-Semitic barbs at [[Mendelssohn]].
* [[TH 284]] — defends [[Mozart]]'s ''Don Giovanni'' from those who denied its historical significance, in particular Wagner; observes ironically how Wagner had succeeded in "subordinating the singers to a whole orchestral regiment" which drowned out their voices!
* '''[[TH 285]]''' — while referring enthusiastically to the ''Lohengrin'' prelude, Tchaikovsky stresses again that Wagner was "first and foremost a symphonist" who had been led astray by "false aesthetic theories"; criticizes his "bulky operas" in which the feelings of the characters were expressed by "a huge orchestral barrage whose roaring completely drowns out the colourless and unwieldy recitative"!
* [[TH 286]] — emphasizes how [[Karl Klindworth]] was regarded very highly for his piano arrangements of orchestral works by pointing out that Wagner, "the most renowned composer of our times", always entrusted to him the task of making piano transcriptions of his operas.
* [[TH 306]] — enthusiastically praises the "astonishing vividness" of the ''Ride of the Valkyries'' and remarks with a sigh of regret that the "symphonist" Wagner had decided to concentrate his efforts on 'music drama' rather than pure orchestral music!
* '''[[TH 314]]''' ("The Bayreuth Music Festival") — in this series of articles Tchaikovsky first discusses the genesis of '' The Ring'' and how the [[Bayreuth]] Festival Theatre was built according to Wagner's specifications; gives a synopsis of all four operas which make up the ''Ring'' cycle; shares his impressions of [[Bayreuth]] during the bustle of the inaugural Festival in 1876 and recounts various humorous anecdotes, as well as giving a fascinating snap-shot of Wagner with his "aquiline nose" and "mocking lips"; Tchaikovsky begs his readers' forgiveness for not being sufficiently well prepared and qualified to give a detailed analysis of ''the Ring'', but still makes some very interesting general observations: on the one hand he praises Wagner for having succeeded in such a tremendous artistic enterprise as creating from nothing a whole new theatre and festival, but criticizes the "principles" Wagner adhered to in his music; the latter was "astonishingly rich" technically and "equipped with an instrumentation of unprecedented beauty", but unfortunately it was entrusted exclusively to the orchestra, the singers being utterly neglected; Tchaikovsky also points out that Wagner's lavish palette of orchestral sound and chromatic subtleties produced in the end a sensation of "fatigue"; makes ironical remarks about the "dwarves, dragons, and swimming maidens" which riveted the attention of those in the audience who were perhaps not so musical, as well as about certain Wagnerians!; Tchaikovsky ends, though, on a positive note by stressing the historical significance of this Festival and saying that he was eager to continue his study of "this most complicated work of music ever written".
* [[TH 316]] — in Chapter V of this account of his first tour of Western Europe as a conductor, Tchaikovsky speaks highly of [[Brahms]]'s character, praising in particular his modesty, which he illustrates by an anecdote concerning one of Wagner's spiteful sallies against [[Brahms]]; also emphasizes [[Brahms]]'s "firmness and proud refusal to make any concessions to Wagnerism"; Tchaikovsky seems to retract his earlier observations about [[Verdi]] having been influenced by Wagner in ''Aida''; reflects on how the [[Brahms]] cult in Germany was a reaction against the "triumphant onslaught of Wagner in the field of opera".
* '''[[TH 319]]''' ("Wagner and His Music") — at the request of an American journalist during his stay in [[New York]] in 1891, Tchaikovsky sets down his views on Wagner in a few pithy statements; professes his admiration for Wagner as a composer, but unequivocally rejects Wagnerian theories; stresses that Wagner's influence on music in the second half of the 19th century had been "enormous", but that unfortunately he was "a genius who followed a wrong path"; Tchaikovsky asserts that "Wagner was a great symphonist, but not a composer of opera".
 
===In Tchaikovsky's Letters===
* [[Letter 490]] to [[Modest Tchaikovsky]], 2/14 August 1876, from [[Bayreuth]]:
{{quote|I only got here the day before the performance, that is on Saturday 12 [August]/31 [July]. [[Klindworth]] was waiting for me at the station; I met a whole bunch of acquaintances and immediately found myself plunged into the midst of a whirlpool in which I've been spinning all day long like a madman. I've made the acquaintance of masses of new people; I called on [[Liszt]], who received me exceptionally kindly; I went to see Wagner, but he isn't receiving anyone now, etc. As for people whom you know, there's [[Nikolay Rubinstein|Rubinstein]], with whom I'm sharing lodgings and who also arrived on Saturday in the evening; [[Laroche]], who's tipsy the whole day long; [[Cui]], whom I brought together with [[Laroche]], only for them to quarrel again two hours later, etc.}}
 
{{quote|Yesterday was the performance of ''Das Rheingold''; as a theatre production this thing captivated my interest thanks to the ''astonishing'' staging; but as music it's an incredible chaos, through which there occasionally flash some extraordinarily beautiful and striking details" <ref name="note43"/>.}}
 
* [[Letter 491]] to [[Modest Tchaikovsky]], 8/20 August 1876, from [[Vienna]]:
{{quote|[[Bayreuth]] has left me with unpleasant recollections, although many things happened there that were flattering to my artistic pride. It turned out that I am not at all so unknown in Germany and other foreign lands as I had thought. The unpleasant recollections have to do with the fact that there was an incredible bustle all the time. Finally, on Thursday [17 August 1876 {{NS}}] everything was over, and with the last notes of ''Götterdämmerung'' I felt as if I had been released from captivity. Perhaps the ''Nibelungen'' is a very great work, but what I do know for sure is that never before has there been anything as boring and tedious as this spun-out yarn. An accumulation of the most complicated and refined harmonies, the colourlessness of everything that is sung on the stage, endlessly long dialogues, the pitch darkness in the theatre, the absence of anything interesting and poetic in the plot — all this exhausts one's nerves to the utmost degree. So this is what Wagner's opera reform is striving after? Composers in the past sought to delight people with their music; now what they do instead is to torment and exhaust them. Of course, there are wondrous details, but everything taken together is frightfully boring!!! [footnote by Tchaikovsky]: How many thousand times dearer to me is ''Sylvia''!!!}}
 
* [[Letter 661]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 26 November/8 December 1877, from [[Vienna]]:
{{quote|I've heard Wagner's ''Die Walküre''. The performance was splendid. The orchestra managed to surpass even itself; the outstanding singers did everything they could to show it to good effect, and yet it was boring. What a Don Quixote this Wagner is! Why does he wear himself out in this way, chasing after something impossible, when right under his very nose he has a tremendous gift, from which, if he were to give himself up to it fully and submit to its natural thrust, he would be able to draw forth a whole ocean of musical beauty?! In my view Wagner is a symphonist by nature. This man is endowed with a talent of genius, but he is being ruined by his tendency; his inspiration is paralyzed by the theory which he devised, and which at all costs he is determined to put into practice. By chasing after ''reality'', ''truthfulness'', and ''rationality'' in opera he has wholly neglected the music, which for the greater part is conspicuous for its complete absence in his last four operas. For I cannot describe as music these kaleidoscopic, parti-coloured musical pieces which keep following on from one another non-stop, never leading to anything and not once allowing you to rest on a musical form that can be easily assimilated. There is not one broad and well-rounded melody; not once is the singer given full scope. Rather, he must all the time chase after the orchestra and take care not to miss his note, which in the score is of no more significance than some small note assigned, say, to the fourth French horn. But that he is a marvellous symphonist — of that there can be no doubt whatsoever. Let me give you an example of the extent to which the symphonist in him predominates over the vocal and indeed the operatic composer. You will probably have heard at concerts his famous "''Walkürenritt''" [Ride of the Valkyries] — what a grandiose, wonderful picture! One literally sees before one's eyes these wild gigantic figures, flying with roaring thunder across the clouds on their magic steeds. In concerts this piece always produces a tremendous impression. In the theatre, when one sees all these cardboard rocks, clouds made out of rags, soldiers galloping very clumsily across the stage in the background, and this unimposing painted sky, which is meant to illustrate the tremendous heavenly vaults beyond the clouds, the music loses all its graphic vividness. Thus, the theatre doesn't serve to intensify one's impression here, but acts instead like a glass of cold water. Finally, I do not understand and have never understood why the ''Nibelungen'' is supposed to constitute a literary masterpiece. As a national epic poem perhaps, but as a libretto no. All these Wotans, Brünnhildes, Frickas etc are so impossible, so un-human — it's just so difficult to feel keen sympathy with them. And, besides, there's so little life in all this! Wotan spends a good three quarters of an hour scolding Brünnhilde for her disobedience. How boring! And yet there are lots of amazingly striking and beautiful individual episodes of a purely symphonic nature" <ref name="note44"/>.}}
 
* [[Letter 660]] to [[Nikolay Kashkin]], 26 November/8 December 1877:
{{quote|I've been to the theatre a few times and heard Wagner's ''Walküre'', from which I carried away memories of two or three glorious minutes and a whole ocean of boredom and utter emptiness <ref name="note45"/>.}}
 
* [[Letter 681]] to [[Sergey Taneyev]], 7/19 December 1877:
{{quote|In [[Vienna]] I heard Wagner's ''Die Walküre'' and was able to confirm my first impression from [[Bayreuth]]. If music really is fated to have in Wagner its principal and greatest exponent, then that is enough to cause one to despair. Can this really be the last word in music?! Will future generations really enjoy this pretentious, cumbersome, and unsightly nonsense, as we now take delight in [Beethoven's] Ninth Symphony, which in its time was also regarded as nonsense? If yes, then that's terrible.}}
 
* [[Letter 1111]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 16/28 February 1879:
{{quote|By the way, in all my life I have only seen one true conductor — and that was Wagner, when in 1863 he came to [[Saint Petersburg]] to give some concerts, at which he also conducted a number of symphonies by [[Beethoven]] [Nos. 3 and 5–8]. Those who haven't heard these symphonies in Wagner's interpretation cannot appreciate them fully and understand all their unattainable greatness.}}
 
* [[Letter 1171]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 5/17 May 1879, from [[Brailov]]:
{{quote|This is how I spent the day yesterday. After writing letters to you and my brother [[Anatoly]] I sat down to study the score of ''Lohengrin'', which I had brought with me. I know that you are not overly fond of Wagner, and I myself am far from being a fanatic Wagnerian. Wagnerism as a principle appeals to me very little, and Wagner's personality awakens feelings of aversion within me, but I cannot fail to do justice to his tremendous musical gift. This gift nowhere manifested itself so brightly as in ''Lohengrin''. This opera will always be the crown in Wagner's oeuvre. For it was after ''Lohengrin'' that the decline of his talent started — a talent that was ruined by this man's satanic pride. He lost his sense of measure and started to overreach himself, so that everything which is written after ''Lohengrin'' can serve as a model of music that is unintelligible, impossible, and has no future. I am actually interested in ''Lohengrin'' now from the point of view of orchestration. In view of the task which lies ahead of me [completing the orchestration of ''[[The Maid of Orleans]]''], I wanted to study thoroughly the score of ''Lohengrin'' in order to find out if I needed to adopt one or two of his orchestral techniques. His mastery is exceptional, but, for reasons that would require technical explanations, I nevertheless do not intend to borrow anything from him. All I should like to point out to you is that Wagner's orchestra is far too symphonic, far too plump and heavy-going for vocal music, and the older I get, the more I become convinced that these two genres, i.e. symphony and opera, are in all respects diametrically opposed. And so, my acquaintance with ''Lohengrin'' will not force me to change my manner, but it was at any rate an interesting and, in the negative sense, useful acquaintance.}}
 
* [[Letter 1544]] to [[Sergey Taneyev]], 21 July/2 August 1880 (one of the various letters which Tchaikovsky wrote that summer reflecting on the significance of [[Bizet]]'s ''Carmen'' in an age of 'decadence' in music):
{{quote|[I] could prove that [[Mendelssohn]], [[Chopin]], [[Schumann]], [[Glinka]], and [[Meyerbeer]] were epigones of the Golden Age of music, but that already they (together with [[Berlioz]]) represent a phase of transition leading to a period of ''savoury'', but not good music. Now it is only savoury music which is written, and essentially even Wagner and [[Liszt]] are just high priests of ''savoury'' music…}}
 
* [[Letter 2184]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 31 December 1882/12 January 1883, from [[Berlin]]:
{{quote|I've been in [[Berlin]] two days now. The journey so far has gone very well, and I decided to stop here for a day to get some rest. However, yesterday's performance at the opera-house (it was a staging of Wagner's ''Tristan und Isolde'', which I had never seen before) induced me to stay an extra day. I did not like this opera at all, but I am still glad that I saw it, since this performance helped me to clarify further my views on Wagner. For although I have long since formed a definite opinion on him, I was afraid that, not having heard all of his operas on the stage, this opinion might not be entirely well-founded. Here is my opinion in brief: Wagner, in spite of his huge creative gifts, his intelligence, poetic talent, and erudition, has rendered merely negative services to art in general and to opera in particular. He has taught us that the earlier conventional forms of opera music have no aesthetic or logical raisons d'être. But if one shouldn't write operas as in the past, does this, however, mean that one has to write them as Wagner does? My unhesitating reply to this is 'No!'. Forcing us to listen for four hours in one go to an endless symphony, which is rich in the most luxurious orchestral beauties but poor in clearly and simply presented thoughts; forcing the singers in the course of these four hours to sing not independent melodies, but various little notes which have been grafted onto this symphony, whereby very often these notes, no matter how high they may be, are utterly drowned out by the thundering of the orchestra — all that is of course in no way the ideal which contemporary composers ought to strive towards. Wagner has shifted the centre of gravity from the stage into the orchestra, and, since this is an evident absurdity, that means that, unless one takes into account the aforementioned negative result [the rejection of earlier operatic forms], his celebrated reform of opera comes to nought. As for the dramatic interest of his operas, I consider them all to be very insignificant and sometimes childishly naïve, but I must say that nowhere and never before have I experienced such boredom as at this performance of ''Tristan und Isolde''. It is the most exhausting and empty drawn-out yarn, without action, without life, and truly incapable of awakening the spectator's interest and eliciting warm sympathy for the protagonists. It was quite clear that the audience (even though it was a German one) was terribly bored, and yet at the end of each act there was a burst of stormy applause. I am at a loss as to how to explain this. Most likely it was out of patriotic sympathy for an artist, who has indeed devoted all his life to poeticizing the Germanic spirit.}}
 
* [[Letter 2227]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 24 February/8 March 1883, from [[Paris]]:
{{quote|As a consequence of his death Wagner has suddenly become the idol of the Parisian public. All three Sunday concerts (Pasdeloup, [[Colonne]], Lamoureux) are dedicating their whole programme to Wagner, and they are having a tremendous success. What curious people! It's imperative that one should die in order to win their attention.}}
 
* [[Letter 2228]] to [[Anatoly Tchaikovsky]], 25 February/9 March 1883, from [[Paris]]:
{{quote|How funny the French are! When Wagner was alive they didn't want to know anything about him; now all [[Paris]] is crazy about Wagner. All the concerts here are packed with his works, and the furore they cause is indescribable. One has to be dead in order to be deemed worthy of the attention of [[Paris]].}}
 
* [[Letter 2285]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 3/15 May 1883, in which Tchaikovsky says that he is not entirely happy with an article about him recently published in a [[ Leipzig]] periodical, ''Musikalisches Wochenblatt'', by the Russian music critic Osip Levenson:
{{quote|I do not like it when people repeat that long-established verdict about me: namely, that I am supposedly incapable of writing dramatic music or that I want to worm myself into the favour of the public. Besides, what does it mean to have an aptitude for drama? Evidently Mr Levenson is a Wagnerian and he probably considers Wagner to be a great master in that realm. I on the other hand maintain quite the opposite. Wagner's was a talent of genius, but he utterly lacked the ability to write for the stage, that is with breadth and simplicity, and without the orchestra predominating. For in his works the latter has taken everything upon itself, leaving to the singers merely the role of talking mannequins.}}
 
* [[Letter 2448]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 27 February/10 March 1884, from [[Paris]]:
{{quote|You are quite right that the French have become Wagnerians. But in this enthusiasm for Wagner — which has reached a point where they are now even indifferent to [[Berlioz]], who a few years ago was the idol of the Parisian concert-going public — there is something false, put on, and lacking any serious foundation. For I refuse to believe that ''Tristan und Isolde'', an opera which even on the stage is unbearably boring and consists of an uninterrupted whining, the monotony of which is enough to depress one — I refuse to believe, I say, that this opera could ever actually fascinate the French public. In my view this is all some comedy — I mean that for the Parisians (who are essentially keen on operettas by Lecocq and salacious ''chansonettes'') it is flattering and agreeable to pretend that they relish the music of Wagner's late period, which is so difficult to appreciate. There would be nothing surprising in such a magnificent opera as ''Lohengrin'', or ''Tannhäuser'' or ''Der fliegende Holländer'', entering the repertoire of opera-houses here. For gradually these operas, which were written by a first-rate master and are full of originality and inspiration, must necessarily become the property of all. But the operas of the final period, which are stuffed with lies, which are false by their very principle and are quite devoid of artistic simplicity and truth, can only maintain themselves in Germany, where Wagner's name has become a rallying-cry for German patriotism. Of course, even in these one constantly senses a mighty talent, but still they are no more than the works of a sick German, who has lapsed into monomania. Never will a Frenchman, who by his very nature seeks simplicity and clarity in art, be able to become an extreme Wagnerian}}
 
* [[Letter 2545]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 8/20–10/22 September 1884, in which Tchaikovsky says that he had finally got round to do two things that had been on his agenda for a long time, namely to study the scores of [[Musorgsky]]'s ''Khovanshchina'' and Wagner's ''Parsifal'' (see the entry on [[Musorgsky]] for his comments on the former):
{{quote|''Parsifal'' produces a totally different impression [to ''Khovanshchina'']: here you are dealing with a great master, with an artist of genius, albeit one who has lost his bearings. The richness of its harmony is astonishing, extraordinary, but far too luxurious, and eventually it ends up wearying even the specialist — I wonder what mere mortals must feel like after having been regaled for three hours with this never-ending stream of the most intricate harmonic tricks? I have always had the impression that those Wagnerians who are not professional musicians affect an enthusiasm which in their heart of hearts they do not really feel. Wagner, as I see it, killed his tremendous creative power through theory. Every preconceived theory cools one's spontaneous creative feeling. Could Wagner give himself up to such a feeling any longer after he had grasped through reason some sort of peculiar theory of music drama and musical truth, and after he had voluntarily renounced, for the sake of this alleged truth, all that constituted the strength and beauty of his predecessors' music?! If in an opera the singers don't sing, but merely utter, accompanied by deafening thunder from the orchestra, various hastily grafted-on, colourless successions of notes against a background of a splendid, but incoherent and formless symphony, what kind of opera can that possibly be?! However, what really astonishes me is the earnestness with which this over-philosophizing German illustrates by means of music the most incredibly stupid subjects. I mean, who could possibly be moved by the plot of ''Parsifal'', where, instead of people with temperaments and feelings that we are familiar with, we are shown various fairytale figures who might perhaps be suitable for embellishing the content of a ballet, but never that of a drama? I am surprised that anyone can listen, without succumbing to laughter, or rather to boredom, to these figures' endlessly long monologues about the various spells from which all these Kundrys, Parsifals, etc. are suffering!!! I mean, is it possible to ''empathize'' with them, to be filled with heartfelt sympathy for them, to love and hate them? Of course not — because their sufferings, feelings, triumphs or failures are utterly alien to us. And what is alien to the human heart cannot be the source of musical inspiration.}}
 
* [[Letter 3675]] to [[Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich]], 21 September/3 October 1888, in which Tchaikovsky discusses mainly [[Beethoven]]:
{{quote|In the realm of music [[Beethoven]]'s style has often been copied to the point of excess, and it still is. I mean, isn't [[Brahms]], at bottom, just a caricature of [[Beethoven]]? Isn't all this pretension to depth, power, and strength loathsome when the content he pours into the Beethovenian mould is lamentable and insignificant? Even in Wagner (whose genius, by the way, is indisputable), wherever he overreaches himself, that is essentially a product of [[Beethoven]]'s spirit.}}
 
* [[Letter 3814]] to [[Vladimir Davydov]], 5/17 March 1889, from [[Hannover]], in which Tchaikovsky complains about the lack of coverage his second conducting tour to Western Europe (January–March 1889) was receiving in the Russian press:
{{quote|Unfortunately, in Russia, judging from letters [I've received], the newspapers in the two capitals are continuing to ignore me, and apart from people close to me nobody seems to care anything about my successes. In contrast, the local newspapers here every day publish long telegrams with all the details about how Wagner's operas are being staged in [[Saint Petersburg]] [during February–March 1889 Angelo Neumann's touring opera company put on ''the Ring'' cycle at the Mariinsky Theatre — its first performance in Russia]. Of course, I am no Wagner, but still it is desirable that people in our country should know how cordially I'm being welcomed by the Germans.}}
 
{{quote|I would be interested to know what you made of the tetralogy [i.e. '' The Ring'']. I can foresee that now we, too, will have our own Russian Wagnerians. I do not like that breed. Having been bored to death the whole evening, but enticed by some captivating, effective moment, they imagine that they have come to appreciate Wagner and will plume themselves on their exquisite sensitivity, thereby merely deluding themselves and others. When all is said and done, ''[[Wagner]]'' (I am speaking of the author of the tetralogy, not about the composer of "Lohengrin") cannot appeal to a Russian person. These German gods with their Valhallaesque squabbles and impossibly long-winded dramatic gibberish must inevitably just seem ridiculous to a Frenchman, an Italian, or a Russian. As for the music, in which wondrous symphonic episodes cannot make up for the monstrosity and artificiality of the vocal aspect of these musical freaks, that can surely only depress people. But just as is happening in France and in Italy, I am sure that the vile breed of Wagnerians will also make headway in our country, too. If all these attacks on [[Wagner]] surprise you, I should like to make it clear to you that I think very highly of [[Wagner]]'s creative genius, but detest ''Wagnerism'' as a principle and cannot overcome my disgust at [[Wagner]]'s manner in his late works…" <ref name="note46"/>.}}
 
* [[Letter 4302]] to [[Sergey Taneyev]], 14/26 January 1891:
{{quote|The question as to ''how one should write operas'' I have always resolved, continue to resolve, and will always resolve extremely simply. They should be written (and everything else, too, by the way) ''just as they occur to one''. Through my music I have always striven to express as ''truthfully'' and ''sincerely'' as possible what was in the text. Now ''truthfulness'' and ''sincerity'' are not the result of theorizing, but rather a spontaneous product of one's inner feeling. In order for this feeling to be alive and warm, I have always tried to choose subjects which were capable of stirring me. However, I can only be stirred by subjects which involve real living people, who feel just as I do. That is why I cannot stand Wagnerian subjects, in which there is nothing ''human''; likewise, I would not pick a subject like yours [''Oresteia''], which contains monstrous acts of evil and has the Furies and Fate as actual characters on the stage. And so, after choosing a subject and setting about writing the opera I would always give free rein to my feeling, resorting neither to Wagner's recipe, nor to imitation of classical models, nor even striving to be original. In all this, however, I did not by any means try to prevent the spirit of the age from influencing me. I confess that if it weren't for Wagner, I would have composed differently; I admit that even ''kuchkism'' [the ideas of the "Mighty Handful"] shows through in my operatic compositions; and probably both Italian music, which I passionately loved as a child, and ''[[Glinka]]'', whom I worshipped in my youth, have had a strong effect on me, not to mention [[Mozart]] of course. But I never consciously invoked any of these idols — rather, I allowed them to act on my musical intuition just as they pleased.}}
 
===In Tchaikovsky's Diaries===
* Diary entry for 13/25 March 1889, [[Paris]]:
{{quote|A letter from ''[[Glazunov]]''. (He's a ''Wagnerian''!!) <ref name="note47"/>.}}
 
===In Interviews with Tchaikovsky===
* ''[[A Conversation with P. I. Tchaikovsky]]'', TH 324 (1892):
{{quote|''Q. — What do you think about the contemporary state of music in the West and its future?''}}
 
{{quote|A. — It seems to me that music in Western Europe is going through a sort of phase of transition. For a long time Wagner was the only major composer of the German school. This man of genius, from whose overwhelming influence not one of the European composers of the second half of our century has been able to escape, stood there in splendid isolation, so to speak. And just as was the case during his life-time, now, too, there is nobody who could replace him. True, there is in Germany one highly respected and esteemed composer: [[Brahms]], but the cult of [[Brahms]] is more like a way of protesting against the excesses and extremes of Wagnerism. For all his mastery, for all the purity and earnestness of his endeavours, [[Brahms]] can hardly be said to have made an eternal and precious contribution to the treasure-house of German music. Of course we can also point to two or three other outstanding German composers: Goldmark, Bruckner, the young Richard Strauss; indeed, here one should also mention Moritz Moszkowski, who, in spite of his Slavic name, is based in Germany; but, on the whole in the classical land of music one can sense a certain scarcity of talents, a certain lack of life and stagnation. The only place where there is true life is in [[Bayreuth]], in this centre of the Wagner cult, and whatever our attitude may be to the music of Wagner, it is impossible to deny its power, its fundamental significance and influence on all contemporary music.}}
 
:Later on in this interview Tchaikovsky talks about the composers of the "Mighty Handful" and argues that it was unfair to call them radicals and revolutionaries:
 
{{quote|Never did this circle [the [[Balakirev]] circle] break all links with the past, as Wagner and the Wagnerians did. The most outstanding members of this circle never disdained old and traditional forms.}}
 
==Views on Specific Works by Wagner==
Bold references indicate particularly detailed or interesting references.
 
===In Tchaikovsky's Music Review Articles===
* ''Das Rheingold'', opera (1869) — [[TH 314]]
* Prelude — [[TH 319]]
* ''Der fliegende Holländer'', opera (1843):
* Overture — '''[[TH 276]]'''
* ''Der Ring des Nibelungen'', tetralogy (1876; see also the individual operas) — '''[[TH 314]]''', [[TH 319]]
* ''Die Walküre'', opera (1870) — [[TH 314]]
* Ride of the Valkyries — '''[[TH 306]]''', [[TH 319]]
* ''Faust'', overture (1855) — '''[[TH 270]]''', [[TH 319]]
* ''Götterdämmerung'', opera (1876) — [[TH 314]]
* Siegfried's Death and Funeral March — [[TH 319]]
* ''Lohengrin'', opera (1850) — [[TH 270]]
* Prelude to Act I — '''[[TH 259]]''', [[TH 285]], '''[[TH 319]]'''
* ''Parsifal'', opera (1882) — [[TH 319]]
* ''Siegfried'', opera (1876) — [[TH 314]]
* Siegfried's Forging Song — [[TH 314]]
* ''Tannhäuser'', opera (1845/1861):
* Overture — [[TH 304]]
* ''Tristan und Isolde'', opera (1865):
* Liebestod scene — [[TH 270]]
 
===In Tchaikovsky's Letters===
* ''Das Rheingold'', opera (1869) — [[Letter 490]] to [[Modest Tchaikovsky]], 2/14 August 1876 (quoted above)
* ''Der fliegende Holländer'', opera (1843) — [[Letter 2448]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 27 February/10 March 1884 (quoted above) ; [[Letter 1441]] to [[Modest Tchaikovsky]], 5/17 March 1880, from [[Berlin]]:
{{quote|I found ''The Dutchman'' terribly noisy and boring. The singers were very bad, the'' prima donna ''(Mallinger <ref name="note48"/>) had lost her voice, and overall this was very much a below average performance. I didn't even stay until the end.}}
 
* ''Der Ring des Nibelungen'', tetralogy (1876; see also the individual operas) — [[Letter 490]] to [[Modest Tchaikovsky]], 8/20 August 1876 (quoted above); [[Letter 3814]] to [[Vladimir Davydov]], 5/17 March 1889 (quoted above) ; [[Letter 799]] to [[Sergey Taneyev]], 27 March/8 April 1878, in which Tchaikovsky thanks [[Taneyev]] for telling him how ''[[Francesca da Rimini]]'' had fared at its recent premiere in [[Moscow]]:
{{quote|It was very interesting for me to read these opinions about ''[[Francesca da Rimini]]''. But it wasn't [[Cui]]'s own idea when he says that the first theme resembles a Russian song. I told him that myself last year. If I hadn't told him, he wouldn't have noticed! [Cui]]'s] observation that I wrote this work under the impression of the ''Nibelungen'' is very accurate. I felt this myself when I was working on it. If I am not mistaken, this is particularly noticeable in the introduction. Isn't it strange that I submitted to the influence of an artistic work which I generally dislike?" <ref name="note49"/>.}}
 
: [[Letter 862]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 24 June/6 July 1878, in which Tchaikovsky discusses his method of composition and then observes how there was no danger of diatonic melodies ever running out:
{{quote|In the music of [[Beethoven]], [[Weber]], [[Mendelssohn]], [[Schumann]], and especially Wagner one constantly comes across melodies based on notes of a triad, and a gifted musician will always be able to come up with a new and beautiful fanfare-like melody. Don't you remember how beautiful the 'sword' melody in the ''Nibelungen'' is?}}
 
* ''Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg'', opera (1868) — [[Letter 3490]] to [[Modest Tchaikovsky]], 2/14 February 1888, from [[Prague]] (where Tchaikovsky arrived on 12 February {{NS}} after leaving [[Leipzig]] that very day):
{{quote|[In [[Leipzig]]] in the evening [of 10 February {{NS}}] I was at the opera-house, where they were putting on ''Die Meistersinger''. Very interesting.}}
 
* ''Die Walküre'', opera (1870): Ride of the Valkyries — [[Letter 661]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 26 November/8 December 1877 (quoted above); [[Letter 681]] to [[Sergey Taneyev]], 7/19 December 1877 (quoted above)
 
* ''Lohengrin'', opera (1850) — [[Letter 1171]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 5/17 May 1879 (quoted above); [[Letter 2448]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 27 February/10 March 1884 (quoted above); [[Letter 3814]] to [[Vladimir Davydov]], 5/17 March 1889 (quoted above); [[Letter 2292]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 12/24 May 1883, from [[Berlin]]:
{{quote|Today at the opera-house they're putting on ''Lohengrin'', which I consider to be the best of all of Wagner's works, and I'll probably go and listen to it.}}
 
* ''Parsifal'', opera (1882) — [[Letter 2545]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 8/20–10/22 September 1884 (quoted above); [[Letter 2544]] to [[Modest Tchaikovsky]], 7/19–11/23 September 1884, from [[Pleshcheyevo]]:
{{quote|I think I've already told you in an earlier letter that in the evenings I am studying ''Parsifal''. Lord, how tedious it is, and, in spite of the mastery of genius which it shows, what falseness and nonsense there is in this whole monstrous thing!}}
 
* ''Siegfried Idyll'', symphonic poem for chamber orchestra (1870) — [[Letter 2173]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 12/24–13/25 December 1882, in which Tchaikovsky discusses [[Max Erdmannsdörfer]]'s conducting at a recent concert in [[Moscow]]:
{{quote|He is too much of a German. The programmes for his concerts are far too German, and, for example, he doesn't include any French music at all and is disdainful of Russian music (except mine). Thus, for example, yesterday [[Taneyev]]'s overture [on a Russian theme in C major] was played in a very slovenly manner, whereas Wagner's inferior piece [''Siegfried Idyll''] was given a splendid performance. The first of these two works he had barely even rehearsed with the orchestra, whilst the second was clearly a labour of love for him.}}
 
* ''Tannhäuser'', opera (1845/1861) — [[Letter 2448]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 27 February/10 March 1884 (quoted above); Letter 4593 to [[Vladimir Davydov]], 7/19 January 1892, from [[Hamburg]], where that very day the first performance in Germany of ''[[Yevgeny Onegin]]'' was due to take place:
{{quote|By the way, the conductor here is not some medium-quality fellow, but positively a ''genius'', and he is burning with eagerness to conduct the first performance [of ''[[Onegin]]'']. Yesterday I heard him conduct an ''astonishing'' performance of ''Tannhäuser''. The singers, the orchestra, [[Pollini]], the stage directors, the conductor (his name is [[Mahler]]) are all in love with ''[[Yevgeny Onegin]]''.}}
 
* ''Tristan und Isolde'', opera (1865) — [[Letter 2184]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 31 December 1882/12 January 1883 (quoted above); [[Letter 2448]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 27 February/10 March 1884 (quoted above) ; [[Letter 2183]] to [[Modest Tchaikovsky]], 30 December 1882/11 January 1883, from [[Berlin]]:
{{quote|Tonight at the opera-house they're putting on ''Tristan und Isolde''. At last I'm in luck! Of course I'll go and see it.}}
 
===In Tchaikovsky's Diaries===
* ''Tannhäuser'', opera (1845/1861) — Diary entry for 12/24 January 1888, [[Magdeburg]]:
{{quote|Performance at the ''Stadtstheater''. ''Tannhäuser''. A boring opera. Atrocious singers, but the staging was good.}}
 
==Bibliography==
* {{bib|1873/16}} (1873)
* {{bib|1873/20}} (1873)
* {{bib|1891/13}} (1891)
* {{bib|1891/54}} (1891)
* {{bib|1893/72}} (1893)
* {{bib|1900/20}} (1900)
* {{bib|1938/4}} (1938)
* {{bib|1943/12}} (1943)
* {{bib|1949/29}} (1949)
* {{bib|1969/24}} (1969)
* {{bib|1969/25}} (1969)
* {{bib|1975/101}} (1975)
* {{bib|1986/51}} (1986)
* {{bib|1986/59}} (1986)
* {{bib|1986/62}} (1986)
* {{bib|1997/45}} (1997)
* {{bib|1998/35}} (1998)
* {{bib|1998/40}} (1998)
* {{bib|1999/5}} (1999)
* {{bib|2000/47}} (2000)
* {{bib|2013/25}} (2013)
 
==External Links==
* [[wikipedia:Richard_Wagner|Wikipedia]]
* {{IMSLP|Wagner,_Richard}}


==Notes and References==
==Notes and References==
<references>
<references>
<ref name="note1">[[Herman Laroche]]'s {{bibx|1898/15|Foreword}} to {{bib|1898/24|Музыкальные фельетоны и заметки Петра Ильича Чайковского (1868-1876)}} (1898). Cited here with reference to {{bib|2000/42|Peter Tschaikowsky. Musikalische Essays und Erinnerungen}} (2000), xxxii.</ref>
<ref name="note1">Entitled '"A Life for the Tsar" on a Milan Stage' in [[ČW]].</ref>
<ref name="note2">This article of 1893, entitled "Un voyage musical en Russie", was penned by the journalist André Maurel (1863–1943) and also included various ironical remarks against the Germans, especially [[Hans von Bülow]], whose influence on music life in Russia, so Maurel argued, had long since been resented by the Russians themselves, and that was why they had now welcomed Lamoureux so enthusiastically! In his open letter Tchaikovsky indignantly emphasised [[Bülow]]'s great services to Russian music, as well as pointing out how many of Wagner's operas had been staged in Russia over the last twenty-five years, and that orchestral excerpts from these had been a staple of RMS concerts in both capitals long before the French were even aware of Wagner's existence! Both Maurel's article and Tchaikovsky's open letter are included in {{bib|1997/96|Жизнь Петра Ильича Чайковского ; том 3}} (1997), p. 523–526. They are also discussed by Rosamund Bartlett in {{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}} (1999), p. 111–112.</ref>
<ref name="note2">"This review was kindly forwarded to me by V. N. Kashperov" — ''note by P. Tchaikovsky''. [[Vladimir Kashperov]] (1827–1894) was a Russian composer and professor of singing at the [[Moscow]] Conservatory from 1865 to 1872. Although there was some ill feeling between the two colleagues (see note 20 in [[TH 277]]), this clearly did not prevent them from sharing their delight at this triumph of [[Glinka]]'s opera in one of the music capitals of Western Europe — ''translator's note''.</ref>
<ref name="note3">Quoted in {{bib|1997/96|Жизнь Петра Ильича Чайковского ; том 3}} (1997), p. 525.</ref>  
<ref name="note3">In Italy, as is well-known, the overwhelming majority of the male public stand during opera and theatre performances — ''note by P. Tchaikovsky''.</ref>
<ref name="note4">{{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}} (1999), p. 97.</ref>
<ref name="note4">The phrase "whose heroic deed… Tsar Mikhail" was omitted from the republication of this article in the Soviet collected edition of Tchaikovsky's writings— {{bib|1953/58|П. И. Чайковский. Полное собрание сочинений ; том II}} (1953), edited by [[Vasily Yakovlev]]— but restored here by way of ''{{bib|2000/42| P. Tschaikowsky: Musikalische Essays und Erinnerungen}}'' (2000), edited by Ernst Kuhn. See also notes 13 and 14.</ref>  
<ref name="note5">{{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}} (1999), p. 113.</ref>
<ref name="note5">Aleksandra Grigoryevna Menshikova (1840–1902), Russian soprano, sang at the [[Moscow]] Bolshoi Theatre from 1867 to 1869, and subsequently (until 1880) appeared mainly at the [[Saint Petersburg]] Mariinsky Theatre — ''note by Ernst Kuhn''.</ref>  
<ref name="note6">See also {{bib|1998/40|Čajkovskijs Wagner-Rezeption. Daten und Texte}} (1998), p. 308–309.</ref>
<ref name="note6">This is indeed a very beautiful passage in ''A Life for the Tsar'', and it is quite possible that Tchaikovsky had this effect in mind when he wrote the rousing peasants' chorus in Act I, Scene 2 of ''[[Yevgeny Onegin]]'', where the singing of the peasants is also heard off-stage and gradually comes nearer. The interrogation mark after "Barcarolle" shows Tchaikovsky's bemusement at the Italian reviewer's attempt to explain the unusual style of Russian folk-song (which [[Glinka]] very much made his own in this opera) by comparison with the familiar concepts of western music — ''translator's note''.</ref>
<ref name="note7">Tchaikovsky's attendance of a performance of ''Lohengrin'' before 1883 is not actually recorded in any of his published letters or such comprehensive chronologies of his life as {{bib|1940/107|Дни и годы П. И. Чайковского. Летопись жизни и творчества}} (1940). However, from what he says about ''Lohengrin'' in the abovementioned article of 1872 ([[TH 270]]), it is clear that he was speaking from first-hand experience of the opera on the stage. Otherwise, the earliest documented reference to Tchaikovsky attending an opera by Wagner is during a brief stay in [[Saint Petersburg]] in January 1876 on his way back to [[Moscow]] from a trip abroad. From letter 439 to [[Modest Tchaikovsky]], 20 January/1 February 1876, we know that the previous day Tchaikovsky had seen ''Tannhäuser'' at the Mariinsky Theatre, although he says nothing about the performance.</ref>  
<ref name="note7">Ilma di Murska (1834–1889), renowned Austrian soprano. Her vocal range (almost three octaves!) and perfect technique qualified her for high dramatic soprano roles and even for [[Wagner]] heroines — ''note by Ernst Kuhn''.</ref>
<ref name="note8">{{bib|1998/40|Čajkovskijs Wagner-Rezeption. Daten und Texte}} (1998), p. 303.</ref>  
<ref name="note8"> From a reader's letter published in the ''Saint Petersburg Register'', we now know that the reviewer's wish has been fulfilled and that at the second performance Act II was left out altogether. A new choreography of the dances is being prepared for the third performance — ''note by P. Tchaikovsky''.</ref>  
<ref name="note9">See also the following remark in [[Letter 782]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 10/22 March 1878: "In spite of Schopenhauer I am every minute of the day filled with a sense of love for life and Nature.</ref>  
<ref name="note9">Latin for "After the clouds, the sun emerges".</ref>  
<ref name="note10">[[Herman Laroche]]'s {{bibx|1898/15|Foreword}} to {{bib|1898/24|Музыкальные фельетоны и заметки Петра Ильича Чайковского (1868-1876)}} (1898). Quoted here from {{bib|2000/42|Peter Tschaikowsky. Musikalische Essays und Erinnerungen}} (2000), xxxii.</ref>
<ref name="note10">Eufemia Martella Barlani-Dini (d.1894), Italian mezzo-soprano and contralto; sang with Gayarre in ''La Gioconda'' — ''translator's note''.</ref>  
<ref name="note11">{{bib|1980/89|Воспоминания о П. И. Чайковском}} (1980), p. 52.</ref>
<ref name="note11">Jean-Baptiste Merly (1828–1885), French baritone, début in the [[Paris]] Grand Opéra in 1851, sang at all the major European opera-houses — ''note by Ernst Kuhn''.</ref>
<ref name="note12">{{bib|1980/89|Воспоминания о П. И. Чайковском}} (1980), p. 54.</ref>
<ref name="note12">Antonio Cotogni (1831–1918), famous Italian baritone, appeared with the Italian Opera Company in [[Saint Petersburg]] from 1872 to 1894 — ''note by Ernst Kuhn''.</ref>  
<ref name="note13">{{bib|1980/89|Воспоминания о П. И. Чайковском}} (1980), p. 57.</ref>
<ref name="note13">The phrase "which he sacrifices for the Tsar" was omitted from the republication of this article in the Soviet collected edition of Tchaikovsky's writings (see note 4).</ref>
<ref name="note14">{{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}}  (1999), p. 97.</ref>
<ref name="note14">The phrase "celebrating… to the throne" was omitted from the republication of this article in the Soviet collected edition of Tchaikovsky's writings (see note 4).</ref>  
<ref name="note15">{{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}}  (1999), p. 99.</ref>
<ref name="note15">Francesco Antonio Faccio (1840–1891), Italian composer and opera conductor in [[Milan]] — ''note by Ernst Kuhn''.</ref>  
<ref name="note16">{{bib|1997/94|Жизнь Петра Ильича Чайковского ; том 1}} (1997), p. 325.</ref>
<ref name="note16">The initiative for staging ''A Life for the Tsar'' in [[Milan]] came from Madame Gorchakova, the favourite of Kievan audiences who has now retired from the stage — ''note by P. Tchaikovsky''. Aleksandra Aleksandrovna Gorchakova (née Mezenkampf; stage name in Italy: Santagano; 1841–1913), Russian lyric coloratura soprano; sang in Italy from 1865 to 1867, then in [[Kiev]] from 1867 to 1871 before her early retirement from the stage. She translated into Russian the librettos of some 75 foreign operas (including ''Carmen, Samson et Dalila, Werther, Roméo et Juliette''), and translated the librettos of eight Russian operas (including ''A Life for the Tsar'') into Italian. She financed from her own means the productions of ''A Life for the Tsar'' and ''Ruslan and Lyudmila'' in [[Milan]], in 1874 — ''translator's note''.</ref>
<ref name="note17">[[Letter 418]] to [[Hans von Bülow]], 19 November/1 December 1875.</ref>
<ref name="note18">[[Herman Laroche]]'s observations are quoted in {{bib|1997/94|Жизнь Петра Ильича Чайковского ; том 1}} (1997), p. 326.</ref>
<ref name="note19">While he was in [[Kiev]] in early June 1876 Tchaikovsky wrote to [[Karl Albrecht]] in [[Moscow]], asking his colleague at the Conservatory to send him "a small book dealing with ''The Nibelung's Ring''" ([[Letter 466]] to [[Karl Albrecht]], 2/14 June 1876), and it seems to have been with the help of this book that Tchaikovsky hastily drew up the synopses of the four operas of ''The Ring'' that he used for the second and third chapters of his article ''[[The Bayreuth Music Festival]]'' (TH 314).</ref>
<ref name="note20">{{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}}  (1999), p. 101.</ref>
<ref name="note21">[[Herman Laroche]] as quoted in {{bib|1997/94|Жизнь Петра Ильича Чайковского ; том 1}} (1997), p. 467.</ref>
<ref name="note22">{{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}}  (1999), p. 95.</ref>
<ref name="note23">See also [[Letter 716]] to [[Sergey Taneyev]], 2/14 January 1878, which is quoted in more detail in the work history for ''[[Yevgeny Onegin]]''.</ref>
<ref name="note24">{{bib|1954/50|Воспоминания о П. И. Чайковскoм}} (1954), p. 110–111. In his ''Chronicle of My Musical Life'' [Летопись моей музыкальной жизни] (1910) [[Rimsky-Korsakov]] also refers to a similar conversation with Tchaikovsky, but seems to have confused the facts. He recalls there how Tchaikovsky attended one of the gatherings of the "Mighty Handful" in [[Saint Petersburg]] in 1876 or 1877 and had informed them that he was working on an orchestral fantasia based on [[Shakespeare]]'s play ''[[The Tempest]]'', and that for the evocation of the sea "he intended to borrow, up to a certain point, from Wagner's prelude to ''Das Rheingold'', based on a triad figure". (The relevant section from [[Rimsky-Korsakov]]'s memoirs is included in {{bib|1994/85|Tschaikowsky aus der Nähe: Kritische Würdigungen und Erinnerungen von Zeitgenossen}} (1994), p. 81]. ''[[The Tempest]]'', however, was completed by Tchaikovsky in October 1873! It seems that [[Rimsky-Korsakov]], who had been greatly impressed by the fantasia at its premiere in December that year, later associated Tchaikovsky's admiration for the ''Rheingold'' prelude after his return from [[Bayreuth]] in 1876 (as described by [[Kashkin]] above) with the composition process of ''[[The Tempest]]'', but this is evidently a misunderstanding. The ''Rheingold'' prelude was not included by Wagner in the concerts he gave in [[Saint Petersburg]] in 1863, and Tchaikovsky, as far as we can tell, heard it for the first time at the [[Bayreuth]] festival in 1876, so it cannot have influenced the writing of ''[[The Tempest]]'' (1873) in any way.</ref>
<ref name="note25">See also a review of that opera quoted in {{bib|1940/107|Дни и годы П. И. Чайковского. Летопись жизни и творчества}} (1940), p. 424.</ref>
<ref name="note26">{{bib|1998/40|Čajkovskijs Wagner-Rezeption. Daten und Texte}} (1998), p. 301–302.</ref>
<ref name="note27">{{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}} (1999), p. 104.</ref>
<ref name="note28">[[Letter 716]] to [[Sergey Taneyev]], 2/14 January 1878.</ref>
<ref name="note29">[[Letter 1440]] to [[ Modest Tchaikovsky]], 4/16 March 1880.</ref>
<ref name="note30">Perhaps Klingsor's magic castle and garden reminded Tchaikovsky of the evil sorceress Naina and Chernomor in [[Glinka]]'s ''Ruslan and Lyudmila'', who also have their own Flower Maidens to beguile unwitting travellers! Like [[Serov]], Tchaikovsky refused to see in '' Ruslan'' an effective work for the opera stage, mainly because of these 'fairy-tale' elements and the excessive richness of the music (see [[TH 264]]).</ref>
<ref name="note31">This is recorded in diary entries for 1/13 July 1886 ("Tea. Read and played ''Parsifal''."), 26 August/7 September 1886 ("Dinner. Afterwards I played ''Parsifal''."), and 28 April/10 May 1887 ("Work. A wondrous, astonishing sunset! Work. ''Parsifal''."). See {{bib|1993/231|Дневники П. И. Чайковского, 1873–1891}} (1993), pp. 75, 90, 141 respectively.</ref>
<ref name="note32">{{bibx|1898/15|Foreword}} to {{bib|1898/24|Музыкальные фельетоны и заметки Петра Ильича Чайковского (1868-1876)}} (1898). Cited here with reference to {{bib|2000/42|Peter Tschaikowsky. Musikalische Essays und Erinnerungen}} (2000), xxxyi–xxxiv.</ref>
<ref name="note33">Gustav Kobbé (1857–1918) wrote of this chorus in his famous guide to the operas, ''The Complete Opera Book'' (1919): "When sung as it was at [[Bayreuth]], where I heard the first performance of ''Parsifal'' in 1882, this makes the most exquisite effect of the whole score. For spirituality it is unsurpassed, an absolutely perfect example of religious music — a beautiful melody without the slightest worldly taint".</ref>
<ref name="note34">See also {{bib|1940/107|Дни и годы П. И. Чайковского. Летопись жизни и творчества}} (1940), p. 468, where a diary entry for 11/23 March 1889 is quoted.</ref>
<ref name="note35">See also [[Letter 3488]] to [[Praskovya Tchaikovskaya]], 30 January/11 February 1888, where he does not actually say anything about the opera or the performance.</ref>
<ref name="note36">{{bib|1998/40|Čajkovskijs Wagner-Rezeption. Daten und Texte}} (1998), p. 306. See also also a letter from [[Sergey Taneyev]] to Tchaikovsky, 11/23 April 1889: "Wagner interests me enormously, especially with regard to his harmony and instrumentation. There is a lot one can learn from him — amongst other things, how one should not write operas. Some time I will talk to you in detail about him." See also {{bib|1951/48|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 158.</ref>
<ref name="note37">David Brown is quoted on this point by Rosamund Bartlett in {{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}} (1999), p. 110. In his article {{bib|1995/69|Čajkovskij und das russische Silberne Zeitalter}} (1995), p. 155–164, Arkady Klimovitsky also discusses the similarities between ''Tristan'' and ''[[Iolanta]]'' (tonal vagueness, harmonic colour, chromaticism) but argues that Tchaikovsky was seeking to refute Wagner in a certain sense. He quotes a letter which Tchaikovsky wrote to an old friend I. V. Yakovlev when he started to work on ''[[Iolanta]]'': "I have found a subject with which I shall prove to the whole world that the lovers in the finales of operas can stay alive, and that this is completely true and authentic!" Klimovitsky makes the interesting conjecture that Tchaikovsky was thinking of ''Tristan'' in this letter, and that he intended the happy ending of ''[[Iolanta]]'', with the marriage of Vaudémont and Iolanta now cured of her blindness, as a refutation of the inevitable "Liebestod" of ''Tristan and Isolde''.</ref>
<ref name="note38">See also {{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}} (1999), p. 111.</ref>
<ref name="note39">{{bib|1980/51}} (1980), p. 208–211 (211). This passage is also included in {{bib|1993/33|Tchaikovsky Remembered}} (1993).</ref>
<ref name="note40">[[Nikolay Kashkin]]'s obituary {{bib|1893/23|Петрь Ильич Чайковский}}, reprinted as {{bib|1980/70|Воспоминания о П. И. Чайковском}} (1980), p. 361–362. This section is also included in {{bib|1993/33|Tchaikovsky Remembered}} (1993), p. 232.</ref>
<ref name="note41">{{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}} (1999), p. 96.</ref>
<ref name="note42">{{bib|1980/87|Воспоминания о П. И. Чайковском}} (1980), p. 44.</ref>
<ref name="note43">One phrase in this letter requires particular attention: «был у Вагнера, который теперь никого не принимает». Translated quite literally, this would be in English: "was at Wagner's, who doesn't receive anyone now". Since it is not attested elsewhere that Tchaikovsky actually met Wagner, what seems to have happened is that he knocked at the door of Villa Wahnfried (perhaps with a letter of recommendation from [[Liszt]] or [[Klindworth]]) but was told that the composer wasn't receiving visitors. However, Tchaikovsky does seem to have spoken to someone who had been inside Wagner's house, since he describes its opulent interior in some detail in Chapter IV of [[TH 314]].</ref>
<ref name="note44">It is worth comparing this with a very interesting letter which [[Sergey Taneyev]] wrote from [[Paris]] to [[Varvara Maslova]] and [[Fyodor Maslov]] on 3/15 March 1877, describing his meetings there with [[Ivan Turgenev]]. [[Taneyev]] discusses, in particular, his musical tastes. Apparently [[Turgenev]]'s favourite composer was now [[Schumann]] and he could not stand Wagner at all: "'His [Wagner's] music expresses various un-human feelings,' he [Turgenev]]] says, 'and his characters are not living people, so I can't empathize with them. How can I know what is going on in the heart of a young man who comes floating in on a swan (''Lohengrin'') or in that of a young girl who has the habit of riding through clouds on a horse at night-time (''Walküre'') — I mean, if I was also told that she sees through her mouth and listens with her nose, am I expected to believe that, too?! Anyway, whatever she does cannot move or touch me. And whenever in Wagner's operas there are supposed to be people on the stage, these aren't actually real people, just figures who are meant to illustrate some abstract idea'". Quoted by Abram Gozenpud in {{und|И. С. Тургенев. Исследование}} [I. S. Turgenev. A Study] (1994), p. 48. Also i Bernandt, G. {{und|С. И. Танеев}} [S. I. Taneyev] (1950), p. 42–43. See also Tchaikovsky's very similar remarks about the exotic setting of [[Verdi]]'s ''Aida'', with its "Egyptian princesses and pharaohs" in the work history for ''[[Yevgeny Onegin]]''.</ref>
<ref name="note45">Quoted in {{bib|1999/5|Tchaikovsky and Wagner. A Reassessment}}  (1999), p. 104.</ref>
<ref name="note46">It is worth comparing the conclusion of this letter with the almost identical ending of Tchaikovsky's 1891 article for the [[New York]] ''Morning Journal'': "[[Wagner and His Music]]" ([[TH 319]]).</ref>
<ref name="note47">See {{bib|1993/231|Дневники П. И. Чайковского, 1873–1891}} (1993), p. 230.</ref>
<ref name="note48">Mathilde Mallinger (1847–1920), famous Austrian soprano. Tchaikovsky had heard her in a production of [[Meyerbeer]]'s ''Les Huguenots'' in [[Moscow]] in 1873 (see [[TH 273]]).</ref>
<ref name="note49">This passage from [[Letter 799]] to [[Sergey Taneyev]], 27 March/8 April 1878, is quoted in {{bib|1940/107|Дни и годы П. И. Чайковского. Летопись жизни и творчества}} (1940), p. 179. The passage in question was deleted by Soviet censorship from the text of this letter as presented in {{bib|1951/48|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 33–35. No indication was given there that a part of the text had been excised. In {{bib|1962/102|П. И. Чайковский. Полное собрание сочинений ; том VII}} (1962), however, the full text of the letter is given. This censorial intervention has also been pointed out by Ernst Kuhn in {{bib|1994/85|Tschaikowsky aus der Nähe: Kritische Würdigungen und Erinnerungen von Zeitgenossen}} (1994), p. 99, note 235.</ref>
</references>
</references>
[[Category:People|Wagner, Richard]]
[[Category:Articles|A Life for the Tsar on the Milan Stage]]
[[Category:Composers|Wagner, Richard]]

Revision as of 10:17, 15 April 2023

"A Life for the Tsar" on the Milan Stage («Жизнь за царя» на миланской сцене) [1] (TH 289 ; ČW 554) was Tchaikovsky's twenty-fourth music-review article for the Moscow journal Russian Register (Русские ведомости), in which it was published on 25 May 1874 [O.S.], signed only with the initials "B.L.".

It contains a translation by Tchaikovsky of an anonymous Italian critic's review of the first performance of Glinka's A Life for the Tsar in Italy; a fascinating testimony showing how (a few years before the season of Russian concerts at the World Fair in Paris in 1878) a Western European audience in one of the great music capitals could react positively to Russian music, even in an opera which owed so much to the distinctive and (to western ears) unfamiliar musical idiom of Russian folksong as Glinka's first masterpiece; and further confirmation of how highly Tchaikovsky valued A Life for the Tsar—"the greatest Russian opera" (see also TH 263)—and how much it pleased him to see Russian art finally being appreciated abroad (an important theme in some of his letters to Nadezhda von Meck).

History

Completed by 25 May/6 June 1874 (date of publication). Concerning the Italian premiere of Glinka's A Life for the Tsar in the Teatro Dal Verme, Milan, on 8/20 May 1874, conducted by Francesco Antonio Faccio and featuring Jean-Baptiste Merly (Susanin), Aleksandra Menshikova (Antonida), and Eufemia Martella Barlani-Dini (Vanya). The production was financed by the soprano Aleksandra Gorchakova-Santagano, who also translated the libretto of the opera into Italian.

English translation

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A few days ago, an event took place in Milan which ought to gladden all those who take an interest in the fortunes of Russian art, both in our country and abroad. On the 8th (20th) of May, the greatest Russian opera, Glinka's A Life for the Tsar, was performed in Italy for the first time, on the stage of the Teatro Dal Verme in the aforesaid city. We have become so familiar with the beauties of this wondrous work, it is so close and dear to us, that I hope I can give some joy to readers of the Russian Register by presenting them with a complete translation of a review [2] which appeared in the feuilleton of a Milanese newspaper with a very large circulation—the Gazetta di Milano—and which is especially interesting because this detailed review was written under the fresh impression of the premiere and published two days later.

After scolding the Milanese public for its inability to show the requisite respect (dovuto raccoglimento) for serious musical works and complaining that during performances the Milanese, instead of listening attentively, like to chat with their neighbours and rush from one box to another to pay visits, or noisily pop in and out of the buffet even before the intervals, the anonymous reviewer provides a brief but detailed chronological account of the run-up to the premiere.

Expectations, he notes, were high. Those who had been allowed to attend the rehearsals told everyone that they liked the music very much, and that the performance would be splendid. As for the quality and quantity of the audience which would gather for the premiere of A Life for the Tsar, some very bizarre rumours were circulating in this respect. For newsmongers had spread the rumour that all the Russian colonies in Nice, Florence, Rome, and Naples had decided to come together in Milan for the premiere, so that no matter what they could applaud the finest work by their famous compatriot; moreover, that a host of Russians had arrived in Milan from Saint Petersburg, Moscow, Siberia, and the Caucasus, and had bought up all the seats, so that even if one offered pure gold it was impossible to get hold of a single box seat or armchair, or even just a place on one of the benches.

These empty rumours were soon refuted by the actual facts: the only Russians present were just a few compatriots living in Milan for the purpose of studying, as they say, bel canto italiano. Immediately before the start of the performance, and even after the curtain had risen, it was still possible to get hold of seats at the box-office [3]. This fact shows quite clearly that the audience which gathered in the Teatro Dal Verme for this premiere of A Life for the Tsar was chiefly drawn from the citizens of Milan. Furthermore, neither Russians nor Poles would have permitted themselves to burst out in such unseemly bawling as that which accompanied the dances in Act II.

The opera begins with a magnificent overture in which the most important motifs of the work are announced and developed. It is written in symphonic style and is worthy of the great symphonist that Glinka most definitely was. A stretta in the style of Beethoven, which anticipates the stormy blizzard at the end of Act IV, serves as an effective conclusion for the overture. The audience spontaneously burst into fervent applause at the end of this number.

The curtain then rises, and the spectator sees before him the village of Susanin, whose heroic deed will subsequently save the life of Tsar Mikhail [4]. The scene here is a Russian one, but the scenery looks a bit Ostrogothic. The amazing introductory chorus with its many figurations is performed perfectly by the members of the chorus, who had clearly rehearsed their parts splendidly. This music, with the unusual seriousness of its form, causes such a favourable impression that the unanimous cry of "Da capo!" is heard, and the audience's wish is indeed satisfied soon thereafter.

After the chorus leaves, Signora Menshikova [5] appears on the stage. She is playing Susanin's daughter Antonida, and her dress is colourful and gorgeous… far too gorgeous for a peasant-girl who has just stepped out of her hut. Signora Menshikova is a lady from the Russian aristocracy, and her characteristically austere demeanour betrays her Nordic origins. It is with great stylistic purity that she performs her original song, which I would prefer to call a melodic recitative instead. The part of Antonida is written in the highest register, but Signora Menshikova copes with the demands that this makes on her voice with remarkable ease: her high notes are distinguished by a rare transparency and pliancy (flessibilita), so that she is able to move from a pianissimo to a forte whilst sustaining the same pitch for a phenomenally long time. Those who are endowed with a fine musical ear observe, however, that this marvellous singer would be perfect were it not for the fact that her intonation tends to be too high sometimes. Nevertheless, the audience immediately appreciates the graceful vocal resources of Signora Menshikova and rewards her with generous applause.

One of the most beautiful and original passages in this opera is the tenor's entry onstage, for in a very characteristic manner something like a Barcarolle (?) is sung off-stage to start with, as if coming from afar, and then it gradually comes closer and merges with the chorus and the recitatives of Susanin and Antonida [6]. The details of this number are wonderful, especially the quick pizzicato accompaniment in the strings. The audience, however, did not applaud so loudly at the end of this number as I would have wished, because the displays of enthusiasm which followed certain other numbers should justly have gushed forth after this passage too.

The tenor, Signor Bertolini, sang his part well, with a mellow, sonorous, and beautiful voice that was capable of the most delicate gradations. Indeed, all of the subsequent music of the first act is full of interesting features. Signor Bertolini delivered his heroic stanzas with great fervour. The apogee of this production's success came with the performance of the trio, with its beautiful minor-key melody and final cadenza, in which the high "c" of the soprano left the already astonished audience truly flabbergasted. Signora Menshikova first sang it in a barely audible pianissimo, and then, gradually intensifying her tone, went over into forte and subsequently descended to "h" and "a" without pausing for breath. Maybe La Patti and Frau Murska [7] would have managed to achieve a similar effect: apart from them, I cannot think of anyone else capable of such a feat. The first act closed with unanimous curtain-calls for the singers.

The second act serves merely as a pretext for including some Polish folk dances; it does not add anything to the interest of the developing plot, which, being somewhat stationary and ponderous at this point, should not really be interrupted, unless of course the ballet happened to be of such a high quality that it could entertain the audience. Our theatre-goers, however, were bored by all this, and from quiet grumbling they came little by little to loud demonstrations of hostility, laughter, hissing, and shouting—all of which they could certainly have refrained from, if only out of respect for the music, which was in no way to blame for this! For the music of these dances is magnificent and instrumented with such a fine and delicate touch that it is almost too much for a ballet.

These dances were choreographed by a ballet-master (whether he was Russian or Polish I know not) who had been invited specially for this occasion, and who brought onto our stage those very folk dances which are so popular in Saint Petersburg, Moscow, and Warsaw. The resulting effect was all the more lamentable in that our male and female dancers, who are such splendid performers of their local dances, got into a muddle with the peculiar rhythms of the Mazurka and Krakowiak. All the same, the audience should have abstained from its jeering and bawling, and considered that if we were to head for Russia or Poland in order to show the public there our Furlana or Monferrino dances, we would cut a very sorry figure indeed.

It would be better if in future performances the second act were left out, or if our ballet-master Tratesi were able to adapt the dances in his manner, that is in the classical style of contemporary choreography [8].

Post nubila Phoebus [9]. The third act was the one the audience liked the most: its success was complete, indisputable, and spectacular. The curtain rises to show the peasant-boy Vanya, an orphan adopted by Susanin, busy at work and singing a characteristic little song in true Russian style: it is gentle, melodious, but at the same time a bit strange (bizzarra) because of its now long, now short (?) rhythmic periods.

Signora Barlani-Dini [10] gives a perfect interpretation of this appealing role. It is almost as if Glinka had written the part specially for her, taking into account the manner of her singing. In her male costume she plays the blonde Vanya, with his quaint rustic simplicity, so convincingly, that it seems as if she had long ago familiarized herself with the customs of a Russian peasant. Signora Barlani-Dini's voice is stupendous: it is distinguished by a pathetic and sonorous timbre which really does tug at the heartstrings. Then we must also not forget her excellent pronunciation, great expressiveness, and broad phrasing, which is ideally suited to the classical style of Glinka's cantilenas.

After this little song, Susanin comes in and sings with Vanya a lively, energetic, and bellicose duet, which went down so well with our public. I shall make use of this opportunity to acquaint the reader with the bass Signor Merly [11]—I say "bass", although one could equally well call him a baritone, because he could certainly sing baritone parts if he so wished, being endowed, like Cotogni [12] and Alighieri, with an exceptional tessitura which extends to high "g". Signor Merly has a strong voice, full of powerful dramatic expression, but when he wants to he can also sing gently and delicately as the consummate artist that he is: he understood perfectly what rhythmic accents Glinka's music requires, as the latter almost always avoids the usual clichés in his rhythmic figures, though consistently remaining simple, precise, and uncommonly original in his use of rhythm. The duet between Vanya and Susanin makes such a favourable impression that the audience insists on it being repeated—perhaps rather importunately because having to repeat this number is very exhausting for the venerable singers, who still have so much left to sing in the course of the performance.

The beauties of the third act followed one another in rapid succession, without ever repeating themselves and becoming all the more impressive. After a nice syllabic (?) chorus of peasants there begins a great quartet, which I consider to be not just the finest passage in the whole opera, but indeed one of the musical wonders of the past, present, and future. To tell the truth, the audience was not at all insensitive to these impressions of such a novel and elevated kind: the cantilena, comprised of six rather than eight bars, produces a most felicitous effect, and both the prayer with the long sustained chords and the exciting Allegro were received with stormy unanimous applause.

The scene between Susanin and the Polish soldiers, and then with his daughter, is full of dramatic colour and commanded the audience's undivided attention. The act closed with a small female chorus in 5/4 time and with a dramatic aria by Antonida, which Signora Menshikova performed so perfectly that she was called out again after the curtain had fallen.

The fourth act, which comprises a truly dramatic situation and produces a profoundly gripping effect, can boast passages of such artistic force as is only within the reach of the greatest masters: Gluck, Meyerbeer, Weber, Wagner, Verdi, and a few others. The first scene is rather insignificant, but it does give Signora Barlani-Dini the opportunity to display her splendid qualities. The dramatic interest begins to unfold in the following scene, in the depths of the forest where Susanin leads the Poles in order to let them perish of cold and hunger, at the price of his own life, which he sacrifices for the Tsar [13].

Here Glinka's music reaches the loftiest heights. The bass aria is of course one of the best in the whole repertory: the accompaniment of the strings, which so vividly conveys the suffering of Susanin's grief-stricken heart as he sacrifices himself for the fatherland, causes a staggering impression. After that, the orchestra plays some music which illustrates a winter blizzard in the forest—only the professional musicians in the audience immediately appreciate the astonishing beauty of this contrapuntal work. The rest of the audience, on the other hand, instinctively senses its strong dramatic effect and bursts out into applause. At the end of the act Signor Merly too was rewarded with loud ovations.

The fifth act is very short and opens with a chorus celebrating Tsar Mikhails accession to the throne [14]. Antonida, Vanya, and Sobinin are present at the popular festivities, but with a heart crushed by grief over Susanin's death. This grief is expressed in an arioso by Vanya, which is then followed by a harmonious trio. In a strange but very effective fashion this piece is accompanied just by the cellos, reinforced by a double bass. Signora Barlani-Dini performs it as perfectly as everything else that she sang, and is rewarded with enthusiastic applause. The finale of the opera is a solemn hymn with a procession of horses, the chiming of bells, and joyous cries of the people.

The solemnity and grandeur of this finale are beyond all doubt. In the Teatro Dal Verme, however, the final scene is staged abysmally: the procession of horses is quite lamentable, the action on the stage a clumsy and chaotic mess. Two horses, instead of walking to the right, insist on galloping to the left and cause universal pandemonium. Some impatient spectators, exhausted by the length of the opera, leave before the end, and, as a result, the epilogue of the opera is not crowned with the applause which both the music and the performers so richly deserve.

Amongst the latter I should above all like to single out the conductor Signor Faccio [15], who, with his sensible and energetic commands, was the very soul of the whole performance. It is to him in particular that we are indebted for such an artistically accomplished production—something that was by no means to be expected from the Teatro Dal Verme. In studying, rehearsing, and conducting Glinka's opera so well, Signor Faccio has once again proved his talent and skill. He had never heard or seen it before, and, in order to fully appreciate the high artistic standards which he obtained from his orchestra and the singers, one should also think of all the difficulties he had to overcome in carrying out the rehearsals, correcting the individual parts, and painstakingly studying the finest details. If it is true that the Russians worship their Glinka as if he were a god, then they ought to be very grateful to the artists who performed A Life for the Tsar, and especially to Signor Faccio, who really was the very soul of this whole enterprise.

No less gratitude is due to the venerable Madame Gorchakova [16], who, with unwearying zeal and sparing no pains or sacrifices, helped to bring about this magnificent production, which is bound to heighten and spread the glory of her renowned compatriot.

"B. L."


Notes and References

  1. Entitled '"A Life for the Tsar" on a Milan Stage' in ČW.
  2. "This review was kindly forwarded to me by V. N. Kashperov" — note by P. Tchaikovsky. Vladimir Kashperov (1827–1894) was a Russian composer and professor of singing at the Moscow Conservatory from 1865 to 1872. Although there was some ill feeling between the two colleagues (see note 20 in TH 277), this clearly did not prevent them from sharing their delight at this triumph of Glinka's opera in one of the music capitals of Western Europe — translator's note.
  3. In Italy, as is well-known, the overwhelming majority of the male public stand during opera and theatre performances — note by P. Tchaikovsky.
  4. The phrase "whose heroic deed… Tsar Mikhail" was omitted from the republication of this article in the Soviet collected edition of Tchaikovsky's writings— П. И. Чайковский. Полное собрание сочинений, том II (1953), edited by Vasily Yakovlev— but restored here by way of P. Tschaikowsky. Musikalische Essays und Erinnerungen (2000), edited by Ernst Kuhn. See also notes 13 and 14.
  5. Aleksandra Grigoryevna Menshikova (1840–1902), Russian soprano, sang at the Moscow Bolshoi Theatre from 1867 to 1869, and subsequently (until 1880) appeared mainly at the Saint Petersburg Mariinsky Theatre — note by Ernst Kuhn.
  6. This is indeed a very beautiful passage in A Life for the Tsar, and it is quite possible that Tchaikovsky had this effect in mind when he wrote the rousing peasants' chorus in Act I, Scene 2 of Yevgeny Onegin, where the singing of the peasants is also heard off-stage and gradually comes nearer. The interrogation mark after "Barcarolle" shows Tchaikovsky's bemusement at the Italian reviewer's attempt to explain the unusual style of Russian folk-song (which Glinka very much made his own in this opera) by comparison with the familiar concepts of western music — translator's note.
  7. Ilma di Murska (1834–1889), renowned Austrian soprano. Her vocal range (almost three octaves!) and perfect technique qualified her for high dramatic soprano roles and even for Wagner heroines — note by Ernst Kuhn.
  8. From a reader's letter published in the Saint Petersburg Register, we now know that the reviewer's wish has been fulfilled and that at the second performance Act II was left out altogether. A new choreography of the dances is being prepared for the third performance — note by P. Tchaikovsky.
  9. Latin for "After the clouds, the sun emerges".
  10. Eufemia Martella Barlani-Dini (d.1894), Italian mezzo-soprano and contralto; sang with Gayarre in La Giocondatranslator's note.
  11. Jean-Baptiste Merly (1828–1885), French baritone, début in the Paris Grand Opéra in 1851, sang at all the major European opera-houses — note by Ernst Kuhn.
  12. Antonio Cotogni (1831–1918), famous Italian baritone, appeared with the Italian Opera Company in Saint Petersburg from 1872 to 1894 — note by Ernst Kuhn.
  13. The phrase "which he sacrifices for the Tsar" was omitted from the republication of this article in the Soviet collected edition of Tchaikovsky's writings (see note 4).
  14. The phrase "celebrating… to the throne" was omitted from the republication of this article in the Soviet collected edition of Tchaikovsky's writings (see note 4).
  15. Francesco Antonio Faccio (1840–1891), Italian composer and opera conductor in Milannote by Ernst Kuhn.
  16. The initiative for staging A Life for the Tsar in Milan came from Madame Gorchakova, the favourite of Kievan audiences who has now retired from the stage — note by P. Tchaikovsky. Aleksandra Aleksandrovna Gorchakova (née Mezenkampf; stage name in Italy: Santagano; 1841–1913), Russian lyric coloratura soprano; sang in Italy from 1865 to 1867, then in Kiev from 1867 to 1871 before her early retirement from the stage. She translated into Russian the librettos of some 75 foreign operas (including Carmen, Samson et Dalila, Werther, Roméo et Juliette), and translated the librettos of eight Russian operas (including A Life for the Tsar) into Italian. She financed from her own means the productions of A Life for the Tsar and Ruslan and Lyudmila in Milan, in 1874 — translator's note.