Op. 4, Valse-caprice
I was struck by something odd while compiling the playlist for this project. I decided to put two different versions of this work, one by Robin Scheidegger lasting close to 11 minutes, and one by Michael Ponti, which lasts only about 5 and a half minutes. The question of interpretation with this piece seems to be a big one. Franco Trabucco, who played on the “Tchaikovsky: The Complete Piano Works” album that is frequently cited on this blog, lasts closer to 9 minutes, while there are several other recordings that last in the 6 minute range of the Ponti recording. As this piece is not one of Tchaikovsky’s most popular pieces, it is not surprising that there is not a consensus of how to play it.
It is hard to ignore the “capriciousness” of the Valse-caprice. It exhibits the traits of a caprice (or capriccio, the Italian translation they are often called) of being “fanciful, spontaneous, colorful…usually in a fast or dancelike tempo (Libby). This solo piano work regularly returns to the opening theme, though it typically does not stay on one idea for long. Adding to the work’s spontaneity are it’s moments that are alternatively pounding then lovely, and in fact has some rather tender moments. Like some of Tchaikovsky’s earlier piano works, there seems to be at least one section emulating a harp, occurring closer to the end. Both of the two recordings I listened to have their good points. I found it a lot easier to follow along with the Scheidegger recording, especially with the score, as it was slower, and also thought that this recording caught some of the more emotional moments better. The Ponti version was incredibly useful just to listen to and get into my ear, as well as being to add to the excitement of being played faster. Though not a particularly well known piece, Tchaikovsky’s Valse-caprice does have some merits, and can be indeed be entertaining, no matter how fast you play it.
Op. 3, The Voyevoda
As I compiled the playlist of Tchaikovsky’s works before I started this blog, I ran into a troubling obstacle. I could not for the life of me find a free recording of Tchaikovsy’s third work, an opera entitled The Voyevoda on either Youtube or Spotify. It ended up being the only work that I could not find a full recording of (though, if you want to give me $30, I could buy one of the limited selection of cd’s out there). Complicating the search for the opera was a similarly named opera by Rimsky-Korsakov, Pan Voyevoda, and Tchaikovsky’s later single movement symphonic ballad The Voyevoda, which is a completely unrelated work. Fortunately, a selection from the opera has found a small place in the orchestral repertoire, the Entr’acte and Dances of the Chambermaids, as well as a medley for piano titled Potpourri, written under a pseudonym of Cramer. I have decided that, in lieu of the full opera, I will instead profile these selections to gain insight on the opera.
The two distinct units of Entr’acte and Dances of the Chambermaids. The “Entr’acte” is decidedly more solemn and perhaps even ominous, though with a little bit of glory and strength thrown in to the end. The majority of the movement is built on the theme originally intoned in the woodwinds at it’s beginning. many of the instruments take turns playing this melody, including a gorgeous, though very short, horn chorale, which occurs twice for about 3 measures. A second theme (that sounds curiously like Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade), which is first played by the clarinets, is also featured. The conclusion features a finale that, though short, has no shortage of power and drama to it, until it fades away with the harp (which features prominently throughout the movement). If theses two scenes occur where I think they do based on the short (but helpful) synopsis on tchaikovsky-research.net, the character Marya has been taken away from her husband by the provincial governor (the Voyevoda), and has been lamenting her fate. It would also explain the lightheartedness of the next section, “Dances of the Chambermaids.”
Though certainly lighter than the “Entr’acte,” there seems to be some degree of “heaviness” to it. I believe this movement originally occurred in the following scenario “They are interrupted by Marya’s nurse Nedviga and her maids, who try to comfort Marya by singing and dancing.” This would certainly explain the lightened mood. The inclusion of cymbals at points gives the music an almost circus-like feel, and the work has a decidedly Russian feel to it’s melody. As this was his first published piece with orchestra, you can begin to hear the some of the traits of Tchaikovsky’s music that would become cornerstones of his later pieces, including big brass, harp interludes, and lots of runs.
After an initial listening to Potpourri, a few points arose in my mind. First, it seemed odd to me that Tchaikovsky chose to make a medley out of an otherwise failed opera. Also, perhaps because the music is being played on piano and not for full orchestra, but I felt like the excerpts from the opera’s overture (the first section of the medley) were not particularly inspiring. Overall, the piece seemed to lack truly memorable tunes. Not to say that the work and the opera derived from it are merit-less, much of the music from the opera found its way into several subsequent works, including Swan Lake and 1812 Overture, however, a 15 minute piano piece may not have been the proper showcase for these themes. Some of the sections are certainly lovely and enjoyable, however, there are other sections of which the most interesting aspect is the accompaniment pattern. That being said, Potpourri would make an excellent piece to listen to on a rainy day when not too much is going on.
Of the two pieces, I would recommend Entr’acte and Dances of the Chambermaids as more representative of the direction Tchaikovsky was going. Both pieces have merits though, and perhaps more piano-inclined listeners would favor the Potpourri more. I do not, however, think that either is particularly essential to Tchaikovsky’s greater legacy. (Fun note though, Potourri utilizes the Tchaikovsky ending!)
Recordings
“Voyevoda, Op. 3: Voyevoda, Op. 3: Entr’acte and Dances of the Chambermaids.” Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra. Tchaikovsky: Orcheatral Works including Symphonyies 1-6. BIS, 2011.
“Potpourri on Themes from the opera Voyevoda.” Trabucco, Franco. Tchaikovksy: Complete Piano Works. Dynamic, 2011.
Brown, David. Tchaikovsky: The Man and his Music. New York: Pegasus, 2007. 37. Print.
International Music Score Library Project
Entr’acte/Dances of the Chambermaids
http://conquest.imslp.info/files/imglnks/usimg/f/f3/IMSLP23289-PMLP04620-39087011324730voyevode.pdf
Potpourri
http://javanese.imslp.info/files/imglnks/usimg/5/5a/IMSLP19106-PMLP45092-Tchaik_TH128.pdf
Tchaikovsky-reference.net
http://www.tchaikovsky-research.net/en/Works/Piano/TH128.html
http://www.tchaikovsky-research.net/en/Works/Operas/TH001.html
Op. 2, Souvenir de Hapsal
Written while Tchaikovsky was vacationing on what is now the Estonian coast, in (unshockingly) the town of Hapsal (now Haapsalu), the piece is distinctive for two reasons: it is Tchaikovsky’s first piano cycle, and the work’s third movement, “Chant sans paroles” (Songs Without Words) was Tchaikovsky’s first widely known hit. The cycle is dedicated to Vera Davydova, a member of the family Tchaikovsky was staying with, who also happened to be madly in love with the composer.
The first movement of the cycle is entitled “Ruines d’un chateau,” which translates to “Ruins of a Castle.” The opening section certainly conveys an image of ruins, as its ostinato (repeated) bass, which is seldom deviated from, gives the piece the feel of a funeral march. The sorrowful melody does much to contribute to the feeling of loss first introduced by the bass. The second section is substantially more upbeat and uptempo, and seems reminiscent of Schumann’s “Wild Rider.” Perhaps this section is supposed to be reflective on the castle’s previous glories and triumphs? After this relatively short interlude (the “B” section lasts about 58 seconds in the recording I listened to), the opening section returns, just as gloomy as before, though abridged, before it melts into the ostinato.
The second movement Scherzo (“Joke”), is a reworking of another one of Tchaikovsky’s earlier works from his student days. The work is characterized by a light-hearted melody, often drastic shifts in octave and dynamic, and sudden stops. All-in-all, these features, as well as it’s countless flourishes, leads to a fairly exciting and entertaining piece of music.
The final movement of the cycle, “Chant sans paroles,” is meant to mimic the lyriciism and style of a sung song. The form was made famous by Mendelssohn some 30 years or so before. Listening to the piece, you can certainly hear how a singer could sing the lovely melody (if it had words). That being said, I feel like it is a tad tame for lovers of Tchaikovsky’s more bombastic works. This movement, as well as all of the movements in this cycle, are certainly worth a listen, even if a tad tame from even some of his other early works.
Citations:
Recording:
Trabucco, Franco. Tchaikovsky: The Complete Piano Works. 2011, Dynamic. Reteived on Spotify.
Brown, David. Tchaikovsky: The Man and his Music. New York: Pegasus, 2007. 37-8. Print.
Tchaikovsky-research.net
http://www.tchaikovsky-research.net/en/Works/Piano/TH125/index.html
International Music Score Library Project
Op. 1, Scherzo à la russe and Impromptu
Published in 1867, Tchaikvosky’s Scherzo à la russe and Impromptu is a short collection of two piano works. The work represents what ended up being Tchaikovsky’s first published pieces, though they were not originally intended published together. According to Tchaikovsky-research.net, the Impromptu was not intended to be published at all, except that it happened to be in the same workbook as the Scherzo, and the publisher, who did not receive proper instructions, published both works, much to the chagrin of Tchaikovsky.
Despite this, I enjoyed both works from the (at the time) fledgling composer. The Scherzo was based off of a Ukrainian folk song that Tchaikovsky had heard some gardeners sing, and had also incorporated into a string quartet during his studies. The melody is for the most part built on having two eighth-notes (or some variation thereof) on the strong beat of the measure, followed by two sixteenths, and an 8th. This motif is the driving force behind the entire work. However, after about 7 minutes of what often is the same idea, I felt as if the work grew a tad monotonous. Not that there is not variety in the work, and many of the sections are repeated multiple times. The work contains a “B” section in 3/4 rather than the 2/4 much of the work is in, as well as a “Quasi Adagio” section that could have easily ended the piece, but in true scherzo (which means “joke”) fashion, the work returns to the original idea quite quickly. The end also hints at what I have personally come to call the “Tchaikovsky ending,” though, even in this case, it almost jokingly leaves a feeling of being unresolved. Among other ideas hinted at in this early work is that, despite relative lightness of the work, there is still a weightiness to the piece. Tchaikovsky seems to use the bass and often suddenly changing dynamics very effectively to convey this weight. Also, despite the work containing a fairly thin texture, the work seems to be deceptively difficult (though I am not a pianist myself, so most piano literature looks “really hard”).
The Impromptu, dating back to Tchaikovsky’s students days, displays a different aspect of the emerging Tchaikovsky, his gift for beautiful melody. After a weighty, energetic introduction (in the always fun key of Eb minor, featuring 6 flats), the “B” section features a very lovely melody, the likes of which Tchaikovsky would later be characterized by in later works. It is perhaps the simplicity of this melody that gives it its beauty. The work is able to convey an improvisatory feel, especially in the opening “A” section and the second half of the “B” section, which, after a short cadenza dividing the section in half, features a melody embellished with numerous glissandi. Despite some nice moments, it is hard to escape the fact while listening to the work or following the score that it is meant to be a college assignment, and not a published work. Much of the opening section has the feel of a scale study or etude. Despite this, it is a rather catchy tune, and has some very nice moments in it (such as the B section, of which I think Chopin would have been proud).
Citations:
Recording:
Trabucco, Franco. Tchaikovsky: The Complete Piano Works. 2011, Dynamic. Reteived on Spotify.
Tchaikovsky-research.net
http://www.tchaikovsky-research.net/en/Works/Piano/TH124/index.html http://www.tchaikovsky-research.net/en/Works/Chamber/TH110/index.html
International Music Score Library Project
“The Tchaikovsky Ending”
Quick, look up the end of the 1812 Overture. I’ll wait.
Naturally, you know how it goes. Almost everyone does. But it’s the last measure or so I am interested in. After a lot of pomp and circumstance, the last 3 notes of the piece are “long-short-longer,” all on the same note, brass blaring. Now listen to the end of his 4th Symphony, movement 1. Different rhythm, but it sure does sound familiar, doesn’t it? While you are looking at that particular work, you might as well check out the end of the fourth movement. He does similar things in the third movement of Symphony 6, the first and 3 movements of the First Piano Concerto, the Swan Lake Suite, Romeo and Juliet, Marche Slav, almost goes out of his way to do it in Capriccio Italien, and even does it TWICE in the fourth movement of his Fifth Symphony, plus who knows how many other pieces (well, theoretically, I will know at the end of all of this). Surely, I am not the only person to ever realize that Tchaikovsky ends nearly every piece almost exactly the same. Of course, Tchaikovsky is not the only composer to use an ending like this, but I cannot help but feel like there are few composers that use it with as much devotion as Tchaikovsky.
Naturally, there are exceptions to every rule, and Tchaikovsky did NOT end EVERY piece like this, just a majority of his more up-tempo works. I was, unfortunately, burned trying to use this rule on an Aural Skills exam that where we were supposed to list what we heard in an unfamiliar piece, and were encouraged to take a stab at the composer. I asked the professor to hear the ending, thinking it to be Tchaikovsky, but not entirely being sure. The movement did not feature “The Ending,” so instead of following my gut, I answered Beethoven (I still made an A in the class). It is, however, an interesting trend I have noticed in Tchaikovsky’s music, and one I will likely reference quite often in the coming months.
The Project
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, 1840-1893 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Welcome to my blog! I think it should be interesting experience!
I got the idea to write a blog while listening to a composer’s entire catalog a few weeks ago. I tossed around a few twentieth century composers, such as Schoenberg, but in the end, there was only one composer I could do this with. Tchaikovsky has been my favorite composer since I have been interested in classical music. Tchaikovsky’s music has had a great impact on my life; I would not be a music major. That’s part of the excitement of doing this project for me: to explore the music of my favorite composer in a mode of communication that is new to me as well.
Some notes about the blog. Please do NOT use my blog as a cited source for things such as research papers. I will cite all my sources, so please reference them instead of this blog. Also, I’m kind of making up the rules of the blog as I go along. I already have already set up a Spotify playlist with nearly every Tchaikovsky work, by opus number, with the exception of his ballets, operas, and symphonies 4-6. For these I found Youtube videos. The Spotify can (maybe, hopefully) be found here:
The other videos will be posted in their respective blog posts. I chose to keep them out of Spotify so I would be able to actually watch performances and follow a coherent story. In the case of the symphonies, I wanted to be able to watch one of the master conductors conduct the Tchaikovsky’s greatest masterworks.
I was incredibly lucky that there were a few albums that contained “complete” collections of both Tchaikovsky’s songs and piano works. These were especially useful in finding some of his more obscure early works. Where applicable, I tried to stick to these albums when applicable.
I hope you all enjoy this journey as much as I do. I also hope that at least a few people end up reading it. And Lord save my sanity from the hours of Spotify ads I will have to endure.
Tchasing Tchaikovsky 