Why we still play Tchaikovsky’s Ukrainian Symphony
Article
The current conflict between Ukraine and Russia alters our perspective on the world, leaving its mark on our appreciation of culture as well. Prominent Ukrainian musicians are currently resisting the persistent reverence for the Russian canon. Activists in Ukraine are pushing to rename streets that are named after Russian writers and composers. Pyotr Tchaikovsky has become a target, and the Kyiv Conservatory is also under scrutiny, with calls to remove Tchaikovsky's name from the National Music Academy. This raises a question for music lovers: how should they orient themselves regarding works that explore the relationship between Russia and Ukraine?
Tchaikovsky’s Second Symphony, which the Belgian National Orchestra will perform on Friday, November 22 at Bozar under the baton of emeritus conductor Hugh Wolff, serves as a fitting example. Nicknamed the “Little Russian” (the 19th-century term for “Ukrainian”), the symphony exemplifies the interest Russian composers had in Ukrainian folk music. But was this an innocent interest, or a form of imperialist appropriation?
The answer is not simple. Tchaikovsky lived and worked at a time when the close ties between Russia and Ukraine were considered obvious. Many Russian artists had personal connections with Ukraine. The writer Nikolai Gogol was born there. Stravinsky had family ties there; his mother was born in Kyiv. Prokofiev came from Sontsivka in eastern Ukraine, a region currently embroiled in conflict. Tchaikovsky himself had a Ukrainian grandfather on his father's side.
Through his sister Aleksandra, who married Lev Davydov and moved to the family estate in Kamenka, near Kyiv, Tchaikovsky developed a close bond with Ukraine. For the composer, their estate became a sanctuary and a source of inspiration. It was there that he became familiar with Ukrainian folk music firsthand. A creative result of his time in Kamenka was the Second Symphony from 1872, which incorporates two Ukrainian folk songs: the introduction of the first movement uses the folk song Down by Mother Volga, and the finale is based on the song The Crane.
Ukrainian themes also appear in Tchaikovsky's famous Piano Concerto No. 1. Additionally, two of his operas deal with Ukrainian subjects. Vakula the Smith (1874), later revised as The Queen of Spades (1885), is a folk opera based on a story from Gogol's Evenings on a Farm Near Dikanka. Mazeppa is dedicated to the famous Ukrainian hetman who opposed Peter the Great at the Battle of Poltava in 1709. The libretto is based on the epic poem Poltava by Alexander Pushkin, a text that does not question the legitimacy of Peter the Great's actions. Tchaikovsky also expressed his love for Ukraine in more intimate forms. The song Le Soir, Op. 27-3 is a beautiful interpretation of an idyll by Taras Shevchenko, the Ukrainian national poet.
How did Tchaikovsky perceive the relationship between Russian and Ukrainian cultures? In all aspects of his life, Tchaikovsky was a product of his time. The Russian elite of the second half of the 19th century saw Ukrainian culture as an extension of Russian culture. Today, we are more aware of the imperialistic traits in the relationship between Tsarist Russia and Ukraine, but Tchaikovsky did not question them. Both socially and politically, Tchaikovsky accepted the world as it was. Speculating on how he would react to the current conflict would be futile. Russia viewed Ukraine as a brotherly country in which it exercised a clearly dominant role.
What complicates the analysis of Russian culture is its unique political situation. While in Western Europe, the process of forming modern nations was in full swing, Russia remained an old-style multinational state. The neighboring multinational states—the Habsburg and Ottoman Empires—did not survive the transition to the 20th century. The Russian variant, however, endured. The Tsarist Empire transformed into the Soviet Union, and then into the current Russian Federation.
Russia's position is unique in that it combines the model of the modern nation-state with that of an empire. In Western Europe, these two models remained strictly separate. European nations built nation-states in Europe, while their imperial ambitions manifested in the colonization of overseas territories. The Russian state, however, did not have to make this separation. The colonized peoples formed a contiguous territory, allowing Russia to include the cultures of national minorities in its definition of national identity. The dramatic conflict shaking Ukraine today can partly be seen as a direct result of this policy.
As an individual, Tchaikovsky was respectful of authority and maintained privileged relations with the imperial family. He would never have questioned official policy and accepted the political and social status quo. His opera Mazeppa could certainly be interpreted today as propaganda in favor of Ukraine's dependence on Russia. However, reducing the significance of the work to a mere political message would be unfair to the composer. Peter the Great's policies serve only as a backdrop, not the heart of the drama. Tchaikovsky uses history to create striking psychological portraits in music. The opera is more about human relationships than politics.
The Ukrainian Symphony should not be interpreted as a political claim on Ukrainian culture. Such a projection of modern concerns is far removed from the composer's world. Nowhere in the score is there any trace of Russian triumphalism. The Symphony No. 2 is, above all, a refined study of orchestral fantasy. It is music filled with wonder, discovery and deep musical interest.
When publisher Bessel failed to keep his promise to publish the symphony, Tchaikovsky had the opportunity to submit it for extensive revision. "A blessing in disguise," Tchaikovsky wrote to Nadezhda von Meck in 1879. "I have decided to rewrite the first and third movements, adapt the second, and shorten the last. If all goes well in Rome, I should be able to turn this immature and mediocre symphony into a successful work."
The first movement of the new version (1880) is largely a new composition. Thanks to his experience, Tchaikovsky was able to give the symphony its final form. However, it cannot compete with the richer emotions of the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Symphonies. And that is not how it should be listened to either. The Symphony No. 2 comes to life when one focuses on its many subtleties. It owes its lasting place in the repertoire to the richness of its orchestration and the imagination with which Tchaikovsky was able to exploit his Ukrainian sources.
