TCHAÏKOVSKI

Russian music… it doesn’t exist! Ouch… here we go, stirring up controversy. But the facts are hard to ignore. Up until Glinka (1804–1857), Russian music was essentially an oral tradition. It is this music – which we fantasise about because we know nothing of it – that we imagine to be Russian music. The balalaika, Cossacks dancing to frenzied tunes: we blend all this together into a sort of Slavic soul that we would struggle to define. As the world’s largest country, Russia has often found itself torn between the West and the East, eventually carving out a unique position that takes its cue from neither side and has developed a model that is unsettling and difficult for the rest of the world to comprehend. In the 19th century, the Russian nobility spoke French far more often than Russian. And the bourgeoisie looked to Europe. As for the common people… they were still living in the Middle Ages, and the only music they heard was during church services or in the village square. It was against this backdrop that Tchaikovsky emerged. An unrivalled melodist, he was able to weave elements of folk music into a style that was at times very Mozartian, to the point of embodying, for everyone – Russians and foreigners alike – the very soul of Russian music. A quintessentially Romantic composer, Tchaikovsky restored ballet music to its former glory. It was for the dance that he composed some of his most beautiful themes. To return to our introductory point, and once again at the risk of causing a bit of a stir, it was under the Soviet regime that an original Russian musical style was able to flourish. From that point on, yes, there has been a Russian classical music tradition that asserts its own identity. But ultimately, all these national disputes matter little. For centuries, musicians – both composers and performers – have defied the boundaries they cross with such joy. They write and perform for all people. Tchaikovsky is not merely Russian; he is universal.