Bow & Bridge Violin and bow makers, as the old books printed them

Scan 65

Grove's dictionary of music and musicians: ed. by J. A. Fuller …, Volume 5, 1910

10 lines. Read by computer on 3 September 2026. Printed page 47. See the scan on archive.org.

1intention of writing down the programme of this symphony, but he tells us that 'it is penetrated by subjective sentiment.' The overwhelming energy of the third movement and the abysmal sorrow of the finale seem, however, to express something more than personal apprehension and despair. The last movement is calamitous rather than 'pathetic,' and truly Elizabethan in the intensity of its tragic significance. It voices 'une lamentation large et souffrance inconnue.' This latest inspiration of Tchaikovsky's will always remain the most profoundly moving of all his works, because it ponders one of the great preoccupations of all ages, — the impenetrable mystery of death and futility of all human speculation.
3Of the works avowedly composed upon a literary basis, three stand out as worthy to rank with the Fifth and Sixth Symphonies: the vigorous and picturesque orchestral fantasia 'The Tempest'; the overture 'Romeo and Juliet,' suggested by Balakirev and carried out with such ardent conviction that the work seems to glow and throb with youthful passion and tenderness; and the orchestral fantasia 'Francesca da Rimini,' one of those fateful and poignant subjects so perfectly adapted to Tchaikovsky's temperament that he has made of it the most poetical and beautiful of all his examples of programme music.
5Tchaikovsky's orchestral Suites count among his most popular works. They show off his masterly orchestration more completely perhaps than any of his compositions. The Third, in G major, which ends with the well-known air and variations, although not more richly scored than the Second (op. 53) is far the better of the two as regards thematic material. The Fourth is constructed upon certain themes borrowed from his favourite composer Mozart, and is appropriately scored for a small orchestra, without trombones. The 'Casse-Noisette' Suite (op. 71a) is, however, his chef d'oeuvre as regards charm and novelty of instrumentation. It has conveyed a lesson which is both useful and dangerous: that musical ideas which have no pretensions to sublimity may be made exceedingly fascinating by means of brilliant orchestration and piquant accessories. In this work Tchaikovsky employed the Celesta for the first time, and we must give him credit for an innovation which now threatens to become as great a commonplace of orchestration as the xylophone. While speaking of Tchaikovsky's instrumentation, mention must be made of the Italian Capriccio, a work of unshadowed gaiety and abounding in striking effects.
7The greater part of Tchaikovsky's compositions for piano were written to order, and show very little inspiration or even ingenuity. Unlike most Russian composers he had no special mastery of pianoforte technique such as makes the works of Balakirev, Liadov, and Stcherbatchev acceptable to virtuosi. His single Pianoforte Sonata is heavy in material and in treatment, and cannot be reckoned a fine example of its kind. A few of his fugitive pieces are agreeable, and the Variations in F show that at the time of their composition he must have been interested in thematic development, but the world would not be much the poorer for the loss of all that he has written for piano solo. In combination with other instruments, however, he rises to a much higher level in his handling of the pianoforte. His first Pianoforte Concerto, composed in 1874, was very severely handled by Nicholas Rubinstein. Von Bülow, on the other hand, pronounced it 'perfect and mature in form, and full of style — in the sense that the intentions and craftsmanship are everywhere concealed.' In after years Tchaikovsky must have concurred with Rubinstein's opinion that the solo part was capable of considerable improvement, and the brilliant 'duel between piano and orchestra,' now so popular with pianists, is the completely revised version of 1889. The second Concerto in G major is a sound piece of workmanship, more conventional in form than its predecessor, but not to be compared with it as regards the interest of its thematic material, or those qualities of warmth and pulsing vitality which carry us away in the B flat minor Concerto.
9Kashkin, in his reminiscences of Tchaikovsky, tells us that the latter knew very little chamber music in his early years, and that the timbre of the string quartet was absolutely distasteful to him. He soon modified this opinion, however, and wrote his First String Quartet, in D major, in 1871. It is a clear, perfectly accessible work, which shows the composer in one of his sanest and tenderest moods. The lovely folksong on which the slow movement is built has largely contributed to the popularity of this quartet. Tchaikovsky followed it up by two others, belonging respectively to the years 1873 and 1876. The Second Quartet in F betrays the orchestral composer in its solidity of structure and straining after too-weighty effects. The finale, in rondo form, is an interesting and vigorous movement. The Third Quartet in E flat minor, dedicated to the memory of the violinist Laub, is undoubtedly the finest work of the three, both as regards mastery of form and the quality of the musical ideas. In its emotional mood it is distinctly akin to the Sixth Symphony and the Pianoforte Trio. It leaves us with the conviction that had he cared to persevere with the string quartet as persistently as with the symphony, he might have achieved increasingly fine results. For a long time Tchaikovsky resisted the entreaties of Nadejda von Meck to compose a Pianoforte Trio, assuring her that it was torture to him to have to listen to the combination of the piano with violin and violoncello. But

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