Notes for: July 27, 2010
The subtitle of this work should be taken with a grain of salt. The fact is that while Tchaikovsky wrote it after a two-month sojourn in Florence, he did not care much for that Italian city. Reflecting this state of mind, his “souvenir”, in a prevailing minor key, is as much moody Russian as sunny Italian.
In the winter and early spring of 1890, Tchaikovsky took refuge in Florence from his musical activities in Moscow to work on his opera The Queen of Spades. While he moderately enjoyed visiting the art galleries, walking in the parks, eating the pasta and watching the passersby from his hotel window, his letters reflect an underlying mood of restlessness, homesickness and antipathy toward the Italian city and countryside. “I was so glad to find a few violets that my heart melted,” he wrote his brother Modest, “but this delight is not nearly so strong as that which even a bad spring brings at home.”
As questionable as the work’s ambiguous “geography” is its format as a sextet for strings. Tchaikovsky had only a limited interest in chamber music of any kind, and he acknowledged his difficulty in writing for the unusual combination of two violins, two violas and two cellos. “One needs six independent but at the same time homogeneous voices,” he wrote Modest. “This is frightfully difficult. Haydn never managed to conquer this problem and never wrote anything larger than quartets for chamber music.”
As things turned out, Tchaikovsky was so dissatisfied with the results that he revised the work over the next two years. Furthermore, he never completely solved the problem of balancing the six parts – the musical interest is often entrusted to one instrument at a time with the other five accompanying. While not one of the composer’s masterworks, however, the sextet makes good listening because of its tunefulness and deft instrumental touches.
The first movement, allegro con spirito, is in sonata form with two themes, the first a swaggering tune of Russian as much as Italian flavor and the second a lyrical serenade more in the Italian style. These elements are blended contrapuntally in the development. Note the effective transition to the recapitulation – a sudden pianissimo followed by a crescendo to a fortissimo statement of the first theme – and the bravura coda.
The slow movement, adagio cantabile e con moto, – the only movement in a major key – opens with a sustained chordal introduction leading to a long singing melody presented by the first violin with a guitar-like pizzicato accompaniment. These elements are repeated in various guises. A contrasting middle section is perhaps the most original music of the sextet. All of the strings play block chords in triplets at the point of the bow, with variations in dynamic level from ppp to ff.
The third movement, allegretto moderato, is a sweet-sad interlude, surely more Russian than Italian, with the main theme stated by the first viola. The finale, allegro vivace, is based largely on a pentatonic theme – that is, rooted in a five-note scale – which suggests the Caucuses more than the Mediterranean. There is a more lyrical second theme, but the vigor and color of the first theme dominate and lead to a breathless conclusion.
Notes for: July 25, 2017
Tchaikovsky’s music is infused with both Slavic temperament and the Western musical traditions he admired. You’ll hear both of these influences in his ebullient String Sextet, his last chamber music composition. Conceived in part during a visit to Florence, one of his favorite Italian cities, it is a lush and sunny work that is filled with tuneful melodies, driving rhythms, contrapuntal riches, and an irresistible mix of passion and lyricism.
Tchaikovsky began writing the Sextet in 1887 to fulfill a promise to the St. Petersburg Chamber Music Society for a new work. He quickly put it aside, though, and didn’t pick it up again until 1890, after the inspiration for the Adagio theme came to him while he was in Florence working on his opera Queen of Spades. The difficulty, as he wrote to his brother Modest, was figuring out to write for “six independent and at the same time homogeneous voices.” Still, he wrote quickly, and when he was done he confessed to Modest, “At the moment I’m terribly pleased with myself.” But after listening to a private performance, Tchaikovsky decided to revise the third and fourth movements. Happily, none of his problems with the Sextet are reflected in the untroubled finished work.
Throughout the opening Allegro con spirito, Tchaikovsky juxtaposes the spirits of Russia and Italy. The contrasts begin at once, when a stormy theme gives way to a warm, serenade-like second theme, marked “sweet, expressive, and cantabile.” Among the movement’s many pleasures are its striking textures, such as when tuneful melodies are played against brisk, busy accompaniments; its wonderful contrapuntal writing, which shows just how well Tchaikovsky had mastered the challenge of integrating six stringed instruments; and the exhilarating build-up as the movement drives to a fast and furious coda.
Tchaikovsky’s superb melodic gift shines in the Adagio, whose beautiful bel canto melody is sung first by the violin over pizzicatos, then by the violin and cello in a tender duet. In an unusual middle section, the strings are instructed to play on the tip of the bow, creating a sound that one listener described as an essay in sheer sound effect. If this movement is a loving reminiscence of Italy, the last two movements are redolent of Russia. In the energetic Allegretto the violas introduce a spirited Slavic folk tune. In a wonderful contrast, the movement’s central trio is as airy as a Mendelssohn scherzo. The finale, too, is driven by folk melodies. The counterpoint here is brilliant, particularly in the fugue that leads to the Sextet’s headlong, thrilling ending. As Tchaikovsky himself exclaimed to his brother, “What a sextet, and what a great fugue there is at the end – a real delight.”