Letter 1544 - Revision history

Brett: Text replacement - "proof-read" to "proofread"

2024-08-23T08:56:09Z

Text replacement - "proof-read" to "proofread"

← Older revision		Revision as of 10:56, 23 August 2024
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	I have been staying for three weeks now on a small estate belonging to my brother-in-law's brother <ref name="note2"/>, where I am living in absolute solitude, or rather, in companionship with a wonderful friend who is inexhaustible in her resources, namely Mother Nature. I must tell you that the older I get, the more my enthusiastic love for the aforesaid friend of mine grows and becomes stronger. And it is strange that nowhere other than precisely in Russia, amidst a humble rural setting, do I delight in her so much! I love both Switzerland and Italy, but somehow quite differently: I love [their landscapes] almost as if they were beautifully painted theatre sets, and not as living Nature. I would truly be in a state of bliss here if the fact of my belonging to human society and the foul appurtenances of that high honour did not make themselves felt even here. There is nowhere one can escape from life in the herd, no matter how much one tries, for, when all is said and done, one has to be a sheep in the herd and share in its dirty aspects. Or, otherwise, one has to give up living altogether, which is something that I all the same do not wish to do, since there are a great deal of things in life which are extremely attractive. Besides, there's always plenty of time for dying.		I have been staying for three weeks now on a small estate belonging to my brother-in-law's brother <ref name="note2"/>, where I am living in absolute solitude, or rather, in companionship with a wonderful friend who is inexhaustible in her resources, namely Mother Nature. I must tell you that the older I get, the more my enthusiastic love for the aforesaid friend of mine grows and becomes stronger. And it is strange that nowhere other than precisely in Russia, amidst a humble rural setting, do I delight in her so much! I love both Switzerland and Italy, but somehow quite differently: I love [their landscapes] almost as if they were beautifully painted theatre sets, and not as living Nature. I would truly be in a state of bliss here if the fact of my belonging to human society and the foul appurtenances of that high honour did not make themselves felt even here. There is nowhere one can escape from life in the herd, no matter how much one tries, for, when all is said and done, one has to be a sheep in the herd and share in its dirty aspects. Or, otherwise, one has to give up living altogether, which is something that I all the same do not wish to do, since there are a great deal of things in life which are extremely attractive. Besides, there's always plenty of time for dying.

	All this summer has been devoted to going through the proofs of my opera, and I have created very little new, namely just a few small vocal pieces (songs and duets) in between <ref name="note3"/>. I have finally completed the ~~proof-reading~~, and the other day I dispatched all the proofs to [[Jurgenson]]. I cannot guarantee that there won't be any mistakes at all, but I hope there will be so few of them as to be hardly noticeable.		All this summer has been devoted to going through the proofs of my opera, and I have created very little new, namely just a few small vocal pieces (songs and duets) in between <ref name="note3"/>. I have finally completed the proofreading, and the other day I dispatched all the proofs to [[Jurgenson]]. I cannot guarantee that there won't be any mistakes at all, but I hope there will be so few of them as to be hardly noticeable.

	Here I am leading a completely bucolic life, that is, I am constantly strolling and wandering about, and in the periods in between I eat a lot, as well as doing quite a bit of reading and playing. The other day I played through one of my favourite works, ''[[Bizet]]'s Carmen'', and was once again inflamed with admiration. If I were capable of writing anything serious, I would be delighted to undertake an article in which I would prove that ''Carmen'', in spite of the author's modest pretensions (he wrote it for the Opéra Comique, not for the Grand Opéra), is one of the most outstanding lyric works of our age. It seems to me that our age is distinguished by the fact that composers strive not for the great and grandiose, but for ''the pretty and piquant''. What is the ''New Russian School'', for instance, if not a fanatic cult of all that is spicy and ''appetising''? (A very characteristic expression.) In the past people ''composed and created''; now they ''pick out and invent'' various ''appetising'' combinations. The [musical] idea has ceased to be the goal: it is now the means, the occasion for inventing this or that harmonic or orchestral effect. If one were to follow through my argument to its extreme conclusion, one 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 transition towards the period of ''appetising'', but not good music. Now people write just what is appetising, and, properly speaking, even [[Wagner]] and [[Liszt]] are no more than high priests of ''appetising'' music. And so it is in such times as these that a highly gifted Frenchman went and wrote a work in which ''the pretty, appetising, piquant, and spicy'' gushes forth in an inspired current. This Frenchman pays tribute to the corruption of the age, but in doing so he remains an artist rather than becoming, like our Messrs [[Cui]] & Co., a kind of musical cook <ref name="note4"/>.		Here I am leading a completely bucolic life, that is, I am constantly strolling and wandering about, and in the periods in between I eat a lot, as well as doing quite a bit of reading and playing. The other day I played through one of my favourite works, ''[[Bizet]]'s Carmen'', and was once again inflamed with admiration. If I were capable of writing anything serious, I would be delighted to undertake an article in which I would prove that ''Carmen'', in spite of the author's modest pretensions (he wrote it for the Opéra Comique, not for the Grand Opéra), is one of the most outstanding lyric works of our age. It seems to me that our age is distinguished by the fact that composers strive not for the great and grandiose, but for ''the pretty and piquant''. What is the ''New Russian School'', for instance, if not a fanatic cult of all that is spicy and ''appetising''? (A very characteristic expression.) In the past people ''composed and created''; now they ''pick out and invent'' various ''appetising'' combinations. The [musical] idea has ceased to be the goal: it is now the means, the occasion for inventing this or that harmonic or orchestral effect. If one were to follow through my argument to its extreme conclusion, one 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 transition towards the period of ''appetising'', but not good music. Now people write just what is appetising, and, properly speaking, even [[Wagner]] and [[Liszt]] are no more than high priests of ''appetising'' music. And so it is in such times as these that a highly gifted Frenchman went and wrote a work in which ''the pretty, appetising, piquant, and spicy'' gushes forth in an inspired current. This Frenchman pays tribute to the corruption of the age, but in doing so he remains an artist rather than becoming, like our Messrs [[Cui]] & Co., a kind of musical cook <ref name="note4"/>.
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	<ref name="note1">[[Taneyev]]'s letter to Tchaikovsky of 5/17 July 1880 was sent from the small village of Iport, near Fécamp in the Haute-Normandie. [[Taneyev]] was staying there for the summer after having spent seventeen days in [[Paris]]. His letter has been published in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 49–50.</ref>		<ref name="note1">[[Taneyev]]'s letter to Tchaikovsky of 5/17 July 1880 was sent from the small village of Iport, near Fécamp in the Haute-Normandie. [[Taneyev]] was staying there for the summer after having spent seventeen days in [[Paris]]. His letter has been published in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 49–50.</ref>
	<ref name="note2">Tchaikovsky was then living not at an estate belonging to any of the Davydovs, but rather in a cottage at [[Simaki]] on [[Nadezhda von Meck]]'s estate [[Brailov]]. The composer concealed the fact that [[Simaki]] belonged to [[Nadezhda von Meck]] not just from [[Taneyev]] but from other friends too — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>		<ref name="note2">Tchaikovsky was then living not at an estate belonging to any of the Davydovs, but rather in a cottage at [[Simaki]] on [[Nadezhda von Meck]]'s estate [[Brailov]]. The composer concealed the fact that [[Simaki]] belonged to [[Nadezhda von Meck]] not just from [[Taneyev]] but from other friends too — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>
	<ref name="note3">As well as ~~proof-reading~~ his opera [[The Maid of Orleans]], between June and mid/late August Tchaikovsky wrote the [[Six Duets, Op. 46]], and the [[Seven Romances, Op. 47]].</ref>		<ref name="note3">As well as proofreading his opera [[The Maid of Orleans]], between June and mid/late August Tchaikovsky wrote the [[Six Duets, Op. 46]], and the [[Seven Romances, Op. 47]].</ref>
	<ref name="note4">See Tchaikovsky's similar reflections on contemporary music and on the significance of [[Bizet]]'s ''Carmen'' in [[Letter 1539]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 16/28 June–19 June/1 July 1880, and [[Letter 1541]] to his brother [[Modest]], 18/30 June–19 June/1 July 1880.</ref>		<ref name="note4">See Tchaikovsky's similar reflections on contemporary music and on the significance of [[Bizet]]'s ''Carmen'' in [[Letter 1539]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 16/28 June–19 June/1 July 1880, and [[Letter 1541]] to his brother [[Modest]], 18/30 June–19 June/1 July 1880.</ref>
	<ref name="note5">Ivan Yefimovich Simakov, a peasant from the village of Zasizhye, near the town of Dorogobuzh in [[Smolensk]] Province — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>		<ref name="note5">Ivan Yefimovich Simakov, a peasant from the village of Zasizhye, near the town of Dorogobuzh in [[Smolensk]] Province — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>
	<ref name="note6">In a second letter to the composer, dated 1/13 August 1880, Simakov asked Tchaikovsky to write the music "as a piano accompaniment, such that it is not difficult but at the same time agreeable to the ear" — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>		<ref name="note6">In a second letter to the composer, dated 1/13 August 1880, Simakov asked Tchaikovsky to write the music "as a piano accompaniment, such that it is not difficult but at the same time agreeable to the ear" — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>
	</references>		</references>

Tony: "appetizing" to "appetising" for consistency

2024-08-14T10:40:39Z

"appetizing" to "appetising" for consistency

Brett: 1 revision imported

2022-07-12T12:20:00Z

1 revision imported

← Older revision	Revision as of 14:20, 12 July 2022
(No difference)

Brett at 13:20, 12 March 2020

2020-03-12T13:20:13Z

New page

{{letterhead
|Date=21 July/2 August 1880
|To=[[Sergey Taneyev]]
|Place=[[Simaki]]
|Language=Russian
|Autograph=[[Moscow]]: {{RUS-Mcl}} (ф. 880)
|Publication={{bib|1901/24|Жизнь Петра Ильича Чайковского ; том 2}} (1901), p. 408–410 (abridged) {{bib|1916/16|Письма П. И. Чайковского и С. И. Танеева}} [1916], p. 45–48 (abridged) {{bib|1951/54|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 50–53 {{bib|1965/80|П. И. Чайковский. Полное собрание сочинений ; том IX}} (1965), p. 204–208
}}

==Text and Translation==
{{Lettertext
|Language=Russian
|Translator=Luis Sundkvist
|Original text={{right|''21 июля''}}
Милый Серёжа! Получил вчера вечером Ваше милое письмо и крайне был обрадован оным. Жаль только, что Вы ничего мне не пишете о Вашем ипорском образе жизни. Как Вы справляетесь с одиночеством? Тяготитесь ли или наслаждаетесь? Или Вы там кого-нибудь видите?

Я вот уже три недели живу в маленьком имении брата моего зятя в абсолютном одиночестве или, лучше сказать, в сообществе с чудной, неисчерпаемой в своих ресурсах товаркой—матерью-природой. Скажу Вам, что чем делаюсь старше, тем больше растёт и укрепляется во мне восторженная любовь к вышеупомянутой моей товарке. И странно, что нигде, как именно в России, среди скромной сельской обстановки, я так не наслаждаюсь ею! Люблю и Швейцарию и Италию, но как-то совсем иначе: почти как красиво написанные декорации, а не как живую природу. Я поистине блаженствовал бы здесь, если б моя принадлежность к человеческому обществу и сопряжённые с этой высокой честью пакости не давали себя чувствовать и здесь. Никуда не убежишь от стадной жизни, как ни бейся, а всё-таки нужно быть овцой стада и приобщаться к его каверзам, — или же нужно совсем не жить, чего я, однако же, не желаю, ибо многое в жизни всё-таки крайне привлекательно. При том же умереть всегда успеешь.

Всё лето это было посвящено корректированию оперы, и творил я очень мало, а именно—лишь несколько вокальных маленьких пьес, как-то: романсов и дуэтов. Корректуру наконец кончил, и на-днях вся она отослана к Юргенсону. Не поручусь, что ошибок вовсе не будет, но надеюсь, что их будет так мало, что едва заметно.

Жизнь здесь веду совершенно буколическую, т. е. брожу и странствую непрестанно, а в промежутках много ем, не мало читаю и не мало играю. Проигрывал на-днях одну из любимейших моих вещей— ''«Carmen» Bizet''—и снова воспламенился восхищением. Если б я умел что-нибудь серьёзное написать, то с наслаждением занялся бы статьёй, в коей доказал бы, что «''Carmen''», несмотря на скромные претензии автора (это для Opéra Comique, а не для Grand Opéra написано), — есть одно из самых выдающихся лирических произведений нашей эпохи. Мне кажется, что эпоха наша отличается стремлением композиторов не к великому и грандиозному, а ''к хорошенькому и пикантному''. Что такое, напр[имер], ''Новая русская школа'', как не фанатический культ всего пряного, ''вкусного''? (Очень характеристическое выражение.) Прежде ''сочиняли, творили'', — теперь ''подбирают и изобретают'' разные ''вкусные'' комбинации. Идея перестала быть целью;—она средство, повод к изобретению того или другого гармонического или оркестрового эффекта. Если провести мою мысль до последней крайности, то можно доказать, что эпигонами золотого века музыки были Мендельсон, Шопен, Шуман, Глинка, Мейербеер, но что и они уже (вместе с Берлиозом) представляют переход к периоду ''вкусной'', а не хорошей музыки. Теперь же только вкусное и пишется, и, в сущности, даже Вагнер и Лист суть лишь жрецы ''вкусной'' музыки. И вот в такое-то время высоко даровитый француз написал вещь, в которой ''хорошенькое, вкусное, пикантное, пряное'' льётся вдохновенным потоком. Француз этот отдаёт дань испорченности века, но оставаясь художником и не делаясь, наподобие нашим гг. Кюи и Cº, какой-то музыкальной кухаркой.

Увы, кроме болтовни в фельетонном духе, я не могу ничего писать—нехватает пороху.

Познакомился с неизвестной мне дотоле вещью ''Massenet''—«''Marie — Magdeleine''». Сначала мне показалась очень смелой мысль заставить Христа петь арии и дуэты с Магдалиной, и потому начал проигрывать с предубеждением. Но вскоре оно рассеялось. Там есть ''отличные вещи'', а дуэт Христа с Магдалиной—маленький ''chef-d'oeuvre''. Достаньте и проиграйте. Вообще, по-моему, французам сужено в непродолжительном будущем стать во главе музыкального движения.

Теперь, Серёжа, потешу Вас. Вместе с Вашим письмом пришло ко мне письмо от некоего г. Симакова с приложением либретто, которое он предлагает мне положить на музыку. Письмо при сём прилагаю (с просьбой возвратить мне его), а либретто, этот литературный алмаз, покажу Вам при свидании в Москве.
----
Виноват, — нельзя отделить письмо от либретто, а потому довольствуйтесь кратким изложением содержания. Г. Симаков пишет, что у них в деревне есть домашний театр, что им надоели водевили, что они задумали завести домашнюю оперу и с этой целью он сочинил либретто и просит меня как ''гениального музыканта'' снабдить оное музыкой. Опера называется «''Саша и Ваня''». Сюжет в том, что ''Ваня'' (деревенский подкидыш) влюблён в барышню ''Сашу''. У Саши мать, помещица-вдова. Ваня с Сашей сходятся на rendez-vous и говорят между собой такими стихами:
{{quote|{{centre|''Саша''}}
Я теперь не сомневаюсь В твоей прекраснейшей душе Преждешь... я тебе признаюсь Душа моя твердила мне: Что друг мой любит не меня ,А казну моей мамаши И что любовь будто твоя В лице горничной Наташи...}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Ваня''}}
Воздадим хвалу мы Богу Притом попросим, чтобы Он Помогал хоть понемногу Мамашу твою брать в полон и т. д.}}

Их застаёт помещица и на просьбу позволить обвенчаться говорит:
{{quote|{{centre|''Вдова''}}
Ах ты, хамское отродье, Зачем к дочери пришёл? Ах, свиная ты ''породья'', Иди прочь отсюда, осёл.}}
----
После этого Саша немедленно бросается в колодезь, а вслед за нею Ваня. Является хор. Помещица просит их вытащить. Крестьяне лезут и вытаскивают. При этом поётся следующее:
{{quote|{{centre|''Вдова''}}
В колодезь сей ввалилась дочь, С ней ещё один крестьянин, Скорей ей надобно помочь, Может быть, и откачаем.}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Хор''}}
Возьмём дружно, покачаем, Через что она должна ожить.}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Вдова'' (Фадею, полезшему в колодезь)}}
Не мучай нас, скажи скорей, А то ведь это просто страм, Ну что ж, достал ли что ты там, Что ты молчишь там, брат Фадей?}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Хор'' (таща из колодца)}}
Ну! возьмёмтесь подружнее Младую барышню тащить.}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Вдова''}}
Ну же, братцы, поскорее, О, если б Бог дал ей ожить.}}
----
Потом их откачивают, и после сего, разумеется, вдова соглашается на их брак.

{{quote|{{centre|''Ваня и Саша'' (очнувшись, вместе)}}
О, Боже мой, как тяжко мне, Голова болить ужасно, Мне снилось гадкое во сне Фу! и вспомнить про то страшно От всей души благодарю За твоё на брак согласье Поступок мой не ставь в вину, Он послужит нам на счастье.}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Хор''}}
Хвала Богу! обошлося Всё как лучше нельзя быть, И подкидышу пришлося Через случай сей богато жить!}}

----
Неправда ли, Серёжа, хорошо? Ведь не выдумаешь ради шутки ничего подобного. Прощайте! Пишите.
{{right|П. Чайковский}}
У Вас написано Hôtel Bongard? Что это нечаянно написанное русское {{und2|Б}} или французское {{und2|Т}}? Наудачу напишу ''Bongard''.

|Translated text={{right|''21 July''}}
Dear [[Serezha]]! Yesterday I received your sweet letter, and was extremely gladdened by it <ref name="note1"/>. Only it is a pity that you don't write anything about your way of life in Iport. How are you coping with the solitude? Does it distress you or are you enjoying it? Or are you seeing anyone there?

I have been staying for three weeks now on a small estate belonging to my brother-in-law's brother <ref name="note2"/>, where I am living in absolute solitude, or rather, in companionship with a wonderful friend who is inexhaustible in her resources, namely Mother Nature. I must tell you that the older I get, the more my enthusiastic love for the aforesaid friend of mine grows and becomes stronger. And it is strange that nowhere other than precisely in Russia, amidst a humble rural setting, do I delight in her so much! I love both Switzerland and Italy, but somehow quite differently: I love [their landscapes] almost as if they were beautifully painted theatre sets, and not as living Nature. I would truly be in a state of bliss here if the fact of my belonging to human society and the foul appurtenances of that high honour did not make themselves felt even here. There is nowhere one can escape from life in the herd, no matter how much one tries, for, when all is said and done, one has to be a sheep in the herd and share in its dirty aspects. Or, otherwise, one has to give up living altogether, which is something that I all the same do not wish to do, since there are a great deal of things in life which are extremely attractive. Besides, there's always plenty of time for dying.

All this summer has been devoted to going through the proofs of my opera, and I have created very little new, namely just a few small vocal pieces (songs and duets) in between <ref name="note3"/>. I have finally completed the proof-reading, and the other day I dispatched all the proofs to [[Jurgenson]]. I cannot guarantee that there won't be any mistakes at all, but I hope there will be so few of them as to be hardly noticeable.

Here I am leading a completely bucolic life, that is, I am constantly strolling and wandering about, and in the periods in between I eat a lot, as well as doing quite a bit of reading and playing. The other day I played through one of my favourite works, ''[[Bizet]]'s Carmen'', and was once again inflamed with admiration. If I were capable of writing anything serious, I would be delighted to undertake an article in which I would prove that ''Carmen'', in spite of the author's modest pretensions (he wrote it for the Opéra Comique, not for the Grand Opéra), is one of the most outstanding lyric works of our age. It seems to me that our age is distinguished by the fact that composers strive not for the great and grandiose, but for ''the pretty and piquant''. What is the ''New Russian School'', for instance, if not a fanatic cult of all that is spicy and ''appetizing''? (A very characteristic expression.) In the past people ''composed and created''; now they ''pick out and invent'' various ''appetizing'' combinations. The [musical] idea has ceased to be the goal: it is now the means, the occasion for inventing this or that harmonic or orchestral effect. If one were to follow through my argument to its extreme conclusion, one 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 transition towards the period of ''appetizing'', but not good music. Now people write just what is appetizing, and, properly speaking, even [[Wagner]] and [[Liszt]] are no more than high priests of ''appetizing'' music. And so it is in such times as these that a highly gifted Frenchman went and wrote a work in which ''the pretty, appetizing, piquant, and spicy'' gushes forth in an inspired current. This Frenchman pays tribute to the corruption of the age, but in doing so he remains an artist rather than becoming, like our Messrs [[Cui]] & Co., a kind of musical cook <ref name="note4"/>.

Alas, I cannot write anything apart from such feuilleton-style chatter: I don't have what it takes.

I have acquainted myself with a work by ''[[Massenet]]'' which I was hitherto unfamiliar with: ''Marie-Magdeleine''. At first it seemed to me a very bold idea to have Christ singing arias and duets with Mary Magdalene, and that is why I started playing it through with certain misgivings. But soon these were dispelled. There are some ''excellent things'' in it, and the duet between Christ and Mary Magdalene is a small ''chef-d'oeuvre''. Get hold of it and play it through. In general I think the French are fated to stand at the forefront of musical progress in the not-too-distant future.

Now, [[Serezha]], I am going to amuse you. Together with your letter I received a letter from a certain Mr Simakov <ref name="note5"/> with an enclosed libretto, which he proposes that I set to music. I am herewith enclosing his letter (and kindly ask you to return it to me later), but the libretto, this literary diamond, I shall show you when we meet in [[Moscow]].
----
Sorry, it is actually impossible to separate the letter from the libretto, and so you will have to make do with this brief summary of its contents. Mr Simakov writes that in his village they have an amateur theatre, that they are fed up with vaudevilles, that they have decided to set up an amateur opera company, and that with this in mind he has composed a libretto and requests me as a ''musician of genius'' to supply the music to the latter. The opera is entitled ''Sasha and Vanya''. The plot is as follows: ''Vanya'' (a village lad and a foundling) is in love with ''Sasha'', a young lady. Sasha's mother is a widow and mistress of all the land in the neighbourhood. Vanya and Sasha come together on a rendez-vous and exchange these verses:
{{quote|{{centre|''Sasha''}}
I do not doubt any more That yours is a beautiful soul Before, I confess to you, My heart kept telling me That my friend loved not me, But my mother's money, And that your love Was for my maid Natasha...}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Vanya''}}
Let us render praise unto God, And at the same time ask that He Help us, even if just a little, To win over your mother etc.}}

The mistress of the land surprises them at their rendezvous, and when they ask her for permission to marry she says:

{{quote|{{centre|''The widow''}}
Ah you, you boorish oaf, How dare you accost my daughter? Ah, you ''offspring'' of swine, Get out of here, you donkey.}}
----
After this Sasha immediately throws herself into a well, and Vanya too jumps in after her. The chorus appears. The mistress of the land begs them to haul Sasha and Vanya out of the well. The peasants climb down the sides of the well and drag them out. All the while the following is sung:

{{quote|{{centre|''The widow''}}
My daughter has fallen into this well, Also with her is a peasant, Quick, she must be helped, Perhaps we can resuscitate her.}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Chorus''}}
Heave-ho, lads, we'll press and press, And this will bring her back to life again.}}

{{quote|{{centre|''The widow'' (to Fadei who has climbed into the well)}}
Don't torment us, tell us quick, For otherwise it's simply a disgrace, Have you found her at last, Why don't you say anything, Fadei?}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Chorus'' (dragging them out of the well)}}
Come on, let us all together Haul the young lady up.}}

{{quote|{{centre|''The widow''}}
Come on, lads, make haste, Oh may God let her come to life again.}}
----
They are then resuscitated, and after that, of course, the widow allows them to marry.

{{quote|{{centre|''Vanya and Sasha'' (after coming to, together)}}
O, good Lord, how I'm in pain, My head is hurting awfully, Such vile things I saw in a dream Ugh! even to recall them is terrible With all my heart I thank you For your consent to our marriage Do not reproach me for what I did, For it will redound to our happiness.}}

{{quote|{{centre|''Chorus''}}
Praise be to God! It could all not Have turned out better than this, And thanks to this adventure Our foundling will be rich ever after!}}
----
This is pretty good, [[Serezha]], don't you think so? I mean, even the funniest joker wouldn't be able to come up with anything like this <ref name="note6"/>. Farewell! Do write to me.
{{right|P. Tchaikovsky }}
You wrote Hôtel Bongard, yes? Is that an accidentally written Russian {{und2|B}} there or a French {{und2|T}}? I'll take my chances and write ''Bongard''.
}}

==Notes and References==
<references>
<ref name="note1">[[Taneyev]]'s letter to Tchaikovsky of 5/17 July 1880 was sent from the small village of Iport, near Fécamp in the Haute-Normandie. [[Taneyev]] was staying there for the summer after having spent seventeen days in [[Paris]]. His letter has been published in {{bib|1951/54|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 49–50.</ref>
<ref name="note2">Tchaikovsky was then living not at an estate belonging to any of the Davydovs, but rather in a cottage at [[Simaki]] on [[Nadezhda von Meck]]'s estate [[Brailov]]. The composer concealed the fact that [[Simaki]] belonged to [[Nadezhda von Meck]] not just from [[Taneyev]] but from other friends too — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib|1951/54|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>
<ref name="note3">As well as proof-reading his opera ''[[The Maid of Orleans]]'', between June and mid/late August Tchaikovsky wrote the [[Six Duets, Op. 46]], and the [[Seven Romances, Op. 47]].</ref>
<ref name="note4">See Tchaikovsky's similar reflections on contemporary music and on the significance of [[Bizet]]'s ''Carmen'' in [[Letter 1539]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 16/28 June–19 June/1 July 1880, and [[Letter 1541]] to his brother [[Modest]], 18/30 June–19 June/1 July 1880.</ref>
<ref name="note5">Ivan Yefimovich Simakov, a peasant from the village of Zasizhye, near the town of Dorogobuzh in [[Smolensk]] Province — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib|1951/54|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>
<ref name="note6">In a second letter to the composer, dated 1/13 August 1880, Simakov asked Tchaikovsky to write the music "as a piano accompaniment, such that it is not difficult but at the same time agreeable to the ear" — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib|1951/54|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>
</references>

← Older revision		Revision as of 12:40, 14 August 2024
Line 74:		Line 74:
	All this summer has been devoted to going through the proofs of my opera, and I have created very little new, namely just a few small vocal pieces (songs and duets) in between <ref name="note3"/>. I have finally completed the proof-reading, and the other day I dispatched all the proofs to [[Jurgenson]]. I cannot guarantee that there won't be any mistakes at all, but I hope there will be so few of them as to be hardly noticeable.		All this summer has been devoted to going through the proofs of my opera, and I have created very little new, namely just a few small vocal pieces (songs and duets) in between <ref name="note3"/>. I have finally completed the proof-reading, and the other day I dispatched all the proofs to [[Jurgenson]]. I cannot guarantee that there won't be any mistakes at all, but I hope there will be so few of them as to be hardly noticeable.

	Here I am leading a completely bucolic life, that is, I am constantly strolling and wandering about, and in the periods in between I eat a lot, as well as doing quite a bit of reading and playing. The other day I played through one of my favourite works, ''[[Bizet]]'s Carmen'', and was once again inflamed with admiration. If I were capable of writing anything serious, I would be delighted to undertake an article in which I would prove that ''Carmen'', in spite of the author's modest pretensions (he wrote it for the Opéra Comique, not for the Grand Opéra), is one of the most outstanding lyric works of our age. It seems to me that our age is distinguished by the fact that composers strive not for the great and grandiose, but for ''the pretty and piquant''. What is the ''New Russian School'', for instance, if not a fanatic cult of all that is spicy and ''~~appetizing~~''? (A very characteristic expression.) In the past people ''composed and created''; now they ''pick out and invent'' various ''~~appetizing~~'' combinations. The [musical] idea has ceased to be the goal: it is now the means, the occasion for inventing this or that harmonic or orchestral effect. If one were to follow through my argument to its extreme conclusion, one 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 transition towards the period of ''~~appetizing~~'', but not good music. Now people write just what is ~~appetizing~~, and, properly speaking, even [[Wagner]] and [[Liszt]] are no more than high priests of ''~~appetizing~~'' music. And so it is in such times as these that a highly gifted Frenchman went and wrote a work in which ''the pretty, ~~appetizing~~, piquant, and spicy'' gushes forth in an inspired current. This Frenchman pays tribute to the corruption of the age, but in doing so he remains an artist rather than becoming, like our Messrs [[Cui]] & Co., a kind of musical cook <ref name="note4"/>.		Here I am leading a completely bucolic life, that is, I am constantly strolling and wandering about, and in the periods in between I eat a lot, as well as doing quite a bit of reading and playing. The other day I played through one of my favourite works, ''[[Bizet]]'s Carmen'', and was once again inflamed with admiration. If I were capable of writing anything serious, I would be delighted to undertake an article in which I would prove that ''Carmen'', in spite of the author's modest pretensions (he wrote it for the Opéra Comique, not for the Grand Opéra), is one of the most outstanding lyric works of our age. It seems to me that our age is distinguished by the fact that composers strive not for the great and grandiose, but for ''the pretty and piquant''. What is the ''New Russian School'', for instance, if not a fanatic cult of all that is spicy and ''appetising''? (A very characteristic expression.) In the past people ''composed and created''; now they ''pick out and invent'' various ''appetising'' combinations. The [musical] idea has ceased to be the goal: it is now the means, the occasion for inventing this or that harmonic or orchestral effect. If one were to follow through my argument to its extreme conclusion, one 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 transition towards the period of ''appetising'', but not good music. Now people write just what is appetising, and, properly speaking, even [[Wagner]] and [[Liszt]] are no more than high priests of ''appetising'' music. And so it is in such times as these that a highly gifted Frenchman went and wrote a work in which ''the pretty, appetising, piquant, and spicy'' gushes forth in an inspired current. This Frenchman pays tribute to the corruption of the age, but in doing so he remains an artist rather than becoming, like our Messrs [[Cui]] & Co., a kind of musical cook <ref name="note4"/>.

	Alas, I cannot write anything apart from such feuilleton-style chatter: I don't have what it takes.		Alas, I cannot write anything apart from such feuilleton-style chatter: I don't have what it takes.

	I have acquainted myself with a work by ''[[Massenet]]'' which I was hitherto unfamiliar with: ''Marie-Magdeleine''. At first it seemed to me a very bold idea to have Christ singing arias and duets with Mary Magdalene, and that is why I started playing it through with certain misgivings. But soon these were dispelled. There are some ''excellent things'' in it, and the duet between Christ and Mary Magdalene is a small ''chef-d'oeuvre''. Get hold of it and play it through. In general I think the French are fated to stand at the forefront of musical progress in the not-too-distant future.		I have acquainted myself with a work by ''[[Massenet]]'' which I was hitherto unfamiliar with: ''Marie-Magdeleine''. At first it seemed to me a very bold idea to have Christ singing arias and duets with Mary Magdalene, and that is why I started playing it through with certain misgivings. But soon these were dispelled. There are some ''excellent things'' in it, and the duet between Christ and Mary Magdalene is a small ''chef-d'oeuvre''. Get hold of it and play it through. In general, I think the French are fated to stand at the forefront of musical progress in the not-too-distant future.

	Now, [[Serezha]], I am going to amuse you. Together with your letter I received a letter from a certain Mr Simakov <ref name="note5"/> with an enclosed libretto, which he proposes that I set to music. I am herewith enclosing his letter (and kindly ask you to return it to me later), but the libretto, this literary diamond, I shall show you when we meet in [[Moscow]].		Now, [[Serezha]], I am going to amuse you. Together with your letter, I received a letter from a certain Mr Simakov <ref name="note5"/> with an enclosed libretto, which he proposes that I set to music. I am herewith enclosing his letter (and kindly ask you to return it to me later), but the libretto, this literary diamond, I shall show you when we meet in [[Moscow]].
	----		----
	Sorry, it is actually impossible to separate the letter from the libretto, and so you will have to make do with this brief summary of its contents. Mr Simakov writes that in his village they have an amateur theatre, that they are fed up with vaudevilles, that they have decided to set up an amateur opera company, and that with this in mind he has composed a libretto and requests me as a ''musician of genius'' to supply the music to the latter. The opera is entitled ''Sasha and Vanya''. The plot is as follows: ''Vanya'' (a village lad and a foundling) is in love with ''Sasha'', a young lady. Sasha's mother is a widow and mistress of all the land in the neighbourhood. Vanya and Sasha come together on a rendez-vous and exchange these verses:		Sorry, it is actually impossible to separate the letter from the libretto, and so you will have to make do with this brief summary of its contents. Mr Simakov writes that in his village they have an amateur theatre, that they are fed up with vaudevilles, that they have decided to set up an amateur opera company, and that with this in mind he has composed a libretto and requests me as a ''musician of genius'' to supply the music to the latter. The opera is entitled ''Sasha and Vanya''. The plot is as follows: ''Vanya'' (a village lad and a foundling) is in love with ''Sasha'', a young lady. Sasha's mother is a widow and mistress of all the land in the neighbourhood. Vanya and Sasha come together on a rendez-vous and exchange these verses:
Line 94:		Line 94:
	Ah you, you boorish oaf,<br/>How dare you accost my daughter?<br/>Ah, you ''offspring'' of swine,<br/>Get out of here, you donkey.}}		Ah you, you boorish oaf,<br/>How dare you accost my daughter?<br/>Ah, you ''offspring'' of swine,<br/>Get out of here, you donkey.}}
	----		----
	After this Sasha immediately throws herself into a well, and Vanya too jumps in after her. The chorus appears. The mistress of the land begs them to haul Sasha and Vanya out of the well. The peasants climb down the sides of the well and drag them out. All the while the following is sung:		After this, Sasha immediately throws herself into a well, and Vanya too jumps in after her. The chorus appears. The mistress of the land begs them to haul Sasha and Vanya out of the well. The peasants climb down the sides of the well and drag them out. All the while the following is sung:

	{{quote\|{{centre\|''The widow''}}		{{quote\|{{centre\|''The widow''}}
Line 128:		Line 128:
	<ref name="note1">[[Taneyev]]'s letter to Tchaikovsky of 5/17 July 1880 was sent from the small village of Iport, near Fécamp in the Haute-Normandie. [[Taneyev]] was staying there for the summer after having spent seventeen days in [[Paris]]. His letter has been published in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 49–50.</ref>		<ref name="note1">[[Taneyev]]'s letter to Tchaikovsky of 5/17 July 1880 was sent from the small village of Iport, near Fécamp in the Haute-Normandie. [[Taneyev]] was staying there for the summer after having spent seventeen days in [[Paris]]. His letter has been published in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 49–50.</ref>
	<ref name="note2">Tchaikovsky was then living not at an estate belonging to any of the Davydovs, but rather in a cottage at [[Simaki]] on [[Nadezhda von Meck]]'s estate [[Brailov]]. The composer concealed the fact that [[Simaki]] belonged to [[Nadezhda von Meck]] not just from [[Taneyev]] but from other friends too — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>		<ref name="note2">Tchaikovsky was then living not at an estate belonging to any of the Davydovs, but rather in a cottage at [[Simaki]] on [[Nadezhda von Meck]]'s estate [[Brailov]]. The composer concealed the fact that [[Simaki]] belonged to [[Nadezhda von Meck]] not just from [[Taneyev]] but from other friends too — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>
	<ref name="note3">As well as proof-reading his opera ''[[The Maid of Orleans]]'', between June and mid/late August Tchaikovsky wrote the [[Six Duets, Op. 46]], and the [[Seven Romances, Op. 47]].</ref>		<ref name="note3">As well as proof-reading his opera [[The Maid of Orleans]], between June and mid/late August Tchaikovsky wrote the [[Six Duets, Op. 46]], and the [[Seven Romances, Op. 47]].</ref>
	<ref name="note4">See Tchaikovsky's similar reflections on contemporary music and on the significance of [[Bizet]]'s ''Carmen'' in [[Letter 1539]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 16/28 June–19 June/1 July 1880, and [[Letter 1541]] to his brother [[Modest]], 18/30 June–19 June/1 July 1880.</ref>		<ref name="note4">See Tchaikovsky's similar reflections on contemporary music and on the significance of [[Bizet]]'s ''Carmen'' in [[Letter 1539]] to [[Nadezhda von Meck]], 16/28 June–19 June/1 July 1880, and [[Letter 1541]] to his brother [[Modest]], 18/30 June–19 June/1 July 1880.</ref>
	<ref name="note5">Ivan Yefimovich Simakov, a peasant from the village of Zasizhye, near the town of Dorogobuzh in [[Smolensk]] Province — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>		<ref name="note5">Ivan Yefimovich Simakov, a peasant from the village of Zasizhye, near the town of Dorogobuzh in [[Smolensk]] Province — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>
	<ref name="note6">In a second letter to the composer, dated 1/13 August 1880, Simakov asked Tchaikovsky to write the music "as a piano accompaniment, such that it is not difficult but at the same time agreeable to the ear" — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>		<ref name="note6">In a second letter to the composer, dated 1/13 August 1880, Simakov asked Tchaikovsky to write the music "as a piano accompaniment, such that it is not difficult but at the same time agreeable to the ear" — note by Vladimir Zhdanov in {{bib\|1951/54\|П. И. Чайковский. С. И. Танеев. Письма}} (1951), p. 53.</ref>
	</references>		</references>