"In any language, it is definitive."- The Sunday Telegraph "A magnificent achievement, and one which can only deepen our appreciation and understanding of this great composer."- The Sunday Times (London) This very distinctive new work on Tchaikovsky uniquely combines a lively biography of Russia's best-loved composer with a chronological guide to his music, ranging from the popular symphonies and concertos to his operas and ballets. David Brown skillfully guides the reader through Tchaikovsky's music within the context of his life, and the result is a book that will be of particular interest to those who, knowing little or nothing of classic music, might wish to become acquainted with some of the greatest and most moving music ever composed. As for Tchaikovsky himself, he emerges as a man dogged with bouts of depression but capable of great and sustained kindness, devoted to his family, and unstinting with his time and money, even on behalf of virtual strangers. It is no wonder, then, when he died he was given a state funeral, nor that the massive crowds lining the streets delayed the procession to the cemetery by five hours. David Brown , professor of musicology at Southampton University, is an international authority on both Russian and nineteenth-century music. He is the author of a previous four-volume biographical study on Tchaikovsky, which, taken with this new book, makes Brown arguably the most renowned expert on the composer in the world.
First, forgive me the personal prologue. But music is personal.
This year I started learning to play the piano. As a singer, a music lover, someone who grew up in a musical family and who shares her life with a musician, I felt that if I didn't learn to read music and play the piano before I died, it would be my biggest regret. Not seeing Greece or Rome would suck and weigh on me a little as I left the world, but knowing that I could have played music and never learned, would be PURE TORTURE.
After I decided to learn piano, I began to listen to classical music 24/7. Now, people, I mean 24/7. I sleep with the radio on and tuned to a classical station. It helps a lot. I learned a lot. I appreciate classical music on another level, and this, coming from someone who still listens to Big in Japan on repeat and who didn't know any composers aside from Mozart and Beethoven. Now that's changed. My world has expanded. It's amazing.
On to Tchaikovsky. My interest in him and his music began a long time ago, though I didn't even know it. My favorite Disney movie has always been Sleeping Beauty and I'd sing that "I know you" song all the time as a kid.
Then last year, at a dinner party I mentioned this to a friend and she said, "Oh, that's from Tchaikovsky..." Boum. The next day, I'm looking him up and listening to some of his work and then I heard his Piano Concerto Number One, and it literally made me weep. In that piece of music I could hear my life. My childhood, the terrible years that followed it, my crash and burn, my coming back up to the surface, innocence repossessed... It was the most beautiful, fragile, yet bold piece I'd ever heard. And my ears were not yet accustomed to classical music in general. I bought a Tchaikovsky piano lesson book for beginners and the adventure started.
Now in Brown's book, which by the way is a condensed version of the four tomes he wrote on Tchaikovsky, a collection of letters combined with short and intriguing analysis of the composer's most famous or important pieces, I learned why Tchaikovsky's music still fascinates and captivates people today. It was a mix of the time period during which he lived, his complex family dynamics, his culture heritage, his sexuality, his personality, and of course, his talent that made his music what it is. Here was a man living in a country that was awakening, modernizing, turning its eyes to the West, but a country still fervently attached to its orthodox Church, agricultural culture, Tsar, and traditions. When Tchaikovsky was growing up, there was little room for musicians, never mind composers, in Russian society. Music was simply a medium used to convey religious fervor or political loyalties.
But his mother had a touch of French blood in her and his father was a fair and kind man who very early on, supported his son's artistic inclination. Tchaikovsky was sensitive as a child and sometimes, its reported, he'd weep in his bedroom from wanting to get the music out of his head. A sign of his genius manifesting itself as mental confusion. He loved his mother and the loss of her was a major and traumatic event that would scar him for life.
In the book, Brown encloses many letters Tchaikovsky wrote his younger brother Modest (who was also gay) and Tchaikovsky's personality is revealed. He was a fake extrovert. I can relate! It was his love for people and the need to please them that would force him out of his shell and he could be a buffoon, even show up in drag at a bal masque, dance the ballet with his nieces, play practical jokes on his friends, but after such a soiree or event, he'd retreat in his solitude, spent, unhappy, and feeling like he'd betrayed himself. He told his brother he could only be himself when he was by himself. Because people triggered something in him. The need to be loved.
He had a routine, composed every day, scoring and editing and producing a stupendous amount of work, from children's lessons to operas, symphonies to concertos and string quartets, and even religious music, something extraordinary for those times, as he was the first composer to submit a piece to the Church (the Imperial Church) and being accepted. If you can listen to the Russian Red Choir sing Tchaikovsky's Cherub's song on YouTube, go for it. it's truly powerful.
His life was spent taking care of people, his family mostly, though he didn't brag about it, but he was always looking out for the people he loved. When his niece got pregnant out of wedlock, he took her under his wing and made sure her little boy (George Leon) was raised in a good Parisian family and well taken care of. Tchaikovsky paid for the child's upbringing and this, when he wasn't rich himself. He would often stay with his sister or nieces in their pastoral estate and it seems that before his sister's morphine addiction, those were the best of times for him. He loved to walk and observe nature and generally tried to stay away from fancy dinners and all the glitz and glamour of the small but famous musical community.
He was loved in the US before the Russians really took to his music and was invited by Andrew Carnegie himself (Carnegie Hall) to come tour certain cities in America. Tchaikovsky was surprised at how friendly the Americans were and seems to have thoroughly enjoyed his stay.
But, wherever he went, however far he strayed, Mother Russia always called him back. He was torn all of his life between the need to compose more modern, avant-garde music, and the desire to please his fellow countrymen and women with simple, more Glinkaesque music.
He composed a few very well known operas. Eugene Onigin and Queen of Spades being the most famous and of course, he will forever be known for his ballets, The Nutcracker, Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty.
If you listen to the Romeo and Juliet overture, to that little variation most people are familiar with, that moment when it seems Juliet is singing, the lightness and romance of that part, and then you switch to his Symphony number 6 (pathetique), your mind will be blown away by Tchaikovsky's range. The scope of his emotional world was astounding. He could convey fragility and virility easily, honestly, without too much fla fla.
And I think that his sexuality has a lot to do with it, although many people will take offence, claiming that a man's sexual orientation doesn't influence his work, but music is an expression of one's most intimidate world and sexuality, our desires and impulses are part of that world. He wasn't secretly ashamed of being gay, but he was worried about the people he loved and knew that they would be taunted or suffer if society found out about his affairs. I think, in reading the letters, I understand that Tchaikovsky accepted himself but not the consequences. And he was very lonely and would have loved to settled down with someone. It was impossible. It was the great tragedy of his life. He was a homebody type and society robbed him of a happy marriage. He would have probably married a man and taken care of him and been truly content. But alas, he was living in the nineteenth century. That being said, would his music be the same, had he met the man of his life and settled down with him in a quaint little dacha by the train track near Moscow?
I'll end this long and personal sort of review by saying that I didn't mention his long platonic relationship with pen pal Nadezhda von Meck because it's been well documented and that's usually what people know about him. That he had a patroness and that they wrote letters to each other and she sponsored him, until she stopped. It hurt him tremendously and he never quite got over what he perceived to be a betrayal.
It was interesting to read that David Brown met with von Mecks's grand daughter when he was researching the book and she is rumored to have told him that the reason her grand mother stopped writing Tchaikovsky, is that she had suffered a stroke and couldn't manage to hold a pen any longer and because the nature of her letters were too personal, she refused to dictate them.
Isn't it tragic to think that maybe it was all a misunderstanding? That would make for a great movie.
When Tchaikovsky died, which was on November 5th, by the way, 125 years ago, it took five hours for the funeral procession to reach the cemetery gates.
Respites, those timeless little breaks that lets us escape, refocus, and rejuvenate, are essential for all of us to varying degrees. As I read through David Brown’s Tchaikovsky - The Man and His Music I quickly began to think of Tchaikovsky’s life as creativity punctuated by stretches of shame, self-doubt, and duty made bearable by frequent breaks away from it all. He seemed a man always in search of respites. He even had a couple of people in his life whose primary purpose was to arrange respites by doing everything from discovering suitably secluded walking paths which ideally presented the opportunity for mushroom-picking, to making the demands of disgruntled, opportunistic, or inconvenient personalities disappear - or at least escape public scrutiny.
What plagued him so? Brown’s book tells you all the details, but a short list includes: a wife from an ill-conceived marriage; family struggles; demands on his time, resources, and creative initiatives arising from his success; and most significantly - guilt over his homosexuality. It saddens me to think how this world could torment almost to the point of extinction a man with the transcendent gift to produce such celestial sounds.
Fortunately for Tchaikovsky, he found Nadezhda von Meck, his patroness. More accurately she found him, contacting him by mail after embracing his music, thereby beginning a lifelong relationship which would provide Tchaikovsky with emotional, geographical, and fiscal respites, allowing him to “do that to which (he was) drawn.” The relationship also resulted in some new in-laws for Tchaikovsky as well. I was amazed by the lengths Nadezhda von Meck went to to provide Tchaikovsky with money and a lifestyle, and must say I was put off by Tchaikovsky’s initial selfish reaction when von Meck was forced to curtail much of her support. However, Brown does provide welcomed evidence that the Tchaikovsky - von Meck friendship did survive the difficult time.
I have had a few stressful periods, times when I felt overwhelmed, when I was glad to be able to take a timeless little break from what was exhausting me. I spent many of those timeless breaks listening to a Tchaikovsky work or two, welcomed respites provided by a man who spent so much of his life searching for them.
I would be remiss if I did not address Brown’s treatment of the second portion of the subtitle of his Tchaikovsky biography - Tchaikovsky’s music. Truth be told, much of Brown’s comments on the music were way over my head; I know very little about the inner complexities of music and musical composition. I guess my naivete is evident in my feeling that Tchaikovsky’s “Italian Capriccio” is the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard, a work to which Brown devotes about one sentence, describing it as “undemanding but entertaining listening that requires no further comment.” What I did enjoy about Brown’s musical explications was the way they pointed me to works I had never heard but now plan to pursue. It was also fascinating to see the works situated within the points of Tchaikovsky’s life at which he composed them, often highlighting the interplay between “the man” and “his music.”
Brown’s profound and sympathetic exploration into the work, life and tragic death of Russia’s best-loved composer shows exactly how and why Tchaikovsky gained this title. From his bittersweet concertos and operas to his incredibly influential symphonies and ballets, Tchaikovsky’s music is some of the most innovative and heartfelt to have ever been written.
I read this book after finding it in a charity shop and I'm so glad I did. Through reading this book I have discovered many new and wonderful pieces of music by the composer. Previously, I thought of Tchaikovsky as primarily being a composer of ballets and a piano concerto. I never realised he had written such wonderful stuff as the three string quartets, a second piano concerto, concert overtures, symphonies, a violin concerto and lesser known pieces such as The Storm and Fatum, and much more. The descriptions of the music are invaluable. I wish I could get a book like this for other composers. Recommended to those who want to know more about this troubled and unhappy composer and his music.
Paradox: David Brown's highly acclaimed four volume history on Tchaikovsky was much more than I wanted to tackle, so I settled for this, his one volume concise overview of the composer and his music. Half way through, I realized that I was disappointed in the book having incomplete information. Still determined to not approach the four volume set, I pursued this book to its end. Much of the book [1/4 maybe] is devoted to a description and a technical survey of the music itself. These are certainly accessible to both the novice and experienced music listener and are well worthwhile. He also has an interesting, albeit simple personal rating system. My greatest dissatisfaction comes from the absences in the biographical sections. To somewhat offset this, there are a number of instances where the author explores heretofore controversial subjects; his conducting and his homosexuality. Oddest to me is the dispassionate prose in describing such a highly passionate man, and his music, as well as the passionately charged time in which he lived. Certainly some detail of critical happenings in the Rusian Empire would not only frame the narrative, but would also greatly help to ignite the fervor of the subject. I would certainly have preferred more about the man and less musical analyses, interesting though they are. All in all I found this to be a good but quite concise biography.
This is my second attempt at reading a biography of a titanic composer, being that the first one was an exasperated journey through various technical terms and orchestral aspects that I did not simple understand. Is it that the man cannot be separated from his music?
It may be so, but this book proved otherwise in the sense that the life pretty much informed all the composition process. In this genre, or maybe as a whole, this is one of the best books I have ever read. It ticked all the boxes of what a layman may want, and expect, when tackling this type of narrative.
The author, drawing heavily on his previous monumental 4 volume work on Tchaikovsky (as expected) presents us with a listener's guide to the composer's body of work, known and less known, in a journey that leaves with a sense of deep appreciation for a music that we are more than familiared with. The most present example I have of this is the superb walkthrough for the fantasy overture Romeo and Juliet. Here the author offers, section by section with minute markings!, almost visual cues to the appreciation of this piece. And this is something to expect throughout the entire book, varied results as it may have.
Along with the music, the biography itself is presented in an intimate way, leaning on the surviving letters of Tchaikovsky that luckily kept an avid and constant correspondence and diaries, and we are left with a comprehensive portrait, although some point are briefly mentioned, somewhat unresolved, of one of the most brilliant composers that ever lived. When you understand that most of the music that you have, in one form of another, came across with is by Tchaikovsky, either for its overall appreciation or abuse, it not possible to read this book with a certain nostalgic feeling. Pairing this with the description offered of the composer, you come to the other end of it with a sense of delight, but regretful delight that the end has come.
If I had to choose one personality trait that most impressed me in Tchaikovsky, it would have to be the unsurmountable creativity that expressed itself despite the many setbacks or idiosyncrasies that were so innate to the composer. Pushing through, something that himself recognized, we are fortunate to have such deep, ethereal, beautiful works, product of a genius that was also a great flawed man.
This is a more than recommended book, presented with honesty, professional integrity. One final aspect, but one that elevated this work even more, is that the author offers his own views, his analysis, but also his doubt, that brings a dynamic to the experience, one that I feel is missing from some of this type of biographies. You are always left wth your own space and ability to judge for yourself, but the pointers are more that welcome to guide you to new discoveries.
Excellent reading, giving both an biographic account of Tchaikovsky´s life and a very good introductory and yet relatively extensive analysis of his music. Very good introduction. Made me understand the man and his music and made me appreciate his music even more than before. (But of course much is left out which will probably be found in the author's four volume biography of Tchaikovsky.)
I like Tchaikovsky and his music but I found this book rather dry and boring. There are some juicy bits but I feel like the music and his life should have been two separate novels. Anyway, this is probably one of the longest books I’ve ever read and I feel like I was being a bit overly ambitious in choosing it but I did learn some useful information.
The author writes lovingly of his subject, and the book contains much of interest. But it is not as engaging or of the same literary quality as other composer biographies that I’ve read (most notably: Alan Walker‘s on Liszt). Also, the e-book lacks many of the search features of modern e-books, and the serif font is unpleasant.
Gostei demais da forma como o autor estruturou o livro, combinando cronologicamente fatos históricos e análises musicais. Uma belíssima biografia do grande compositor russo.
I recently fell deep into a Tchaikovsky wormhole and, six months later, have yet to extract myself. I’d decided sometime around the new year that I really wanted to better familiarize myself with the whole of his compositions… or at least give them all a try. David Brown’s work has been my guide book along the way, and it’s served me well.
The book is structured chronologically, and I think it’s most effective this way. Alternating between the narrative of Tchaikovsky’s life and descriptions of his work, Brown does a really good job of providing the context and influences for the music Tchaikovsky was composing at the time. Thankfully, Brown knows what topics to skim over and which ones to dig deeper into. I really enjoyed having this biographical context when I listened to the pieces. I also loved listening to the pieces in chronological order. You can follow his progression as a composer, and that in of itself is fascinating. One of my favorite anecdotes is how the director of the Hamburg orchestra, Theodor Avé-Lallemant, met Tchaikovsky after a performance and immediately criticized him for what he felt was an overuse of percussion. Tchaikovsky was a person who generally took criticism well, and so he quickly befriended the man. His next major composition was Symphony No. 5, an exquisite piece that is markedly less percussive. Tellingly, he dedicated the symphony to Avé-Lallemant.
Weirdly, there is a lack of consistency in Brown’s descriptions of the compositions. I’d picked up this book as an ex-violin player who wanted to have a more musical and technical explanation of the pieces, and Brown does this very well for certain pieces, such as the Romeo and Juliet overture. For this piece, he explains how the various musical instruments represent the different characters in the play, explains the musical themes, and dives into technical details like the use of pizzicato and how one instrument complements the other. It’s great. I can literally feel the play when I listen to Romeo and Juliet now. The book was at its best in these sections.
But for other plot-based pieces such as Swan Lake, without question one of Tchaikovsky’s masterpieces, all Brown offers is a movement by movement summary of the plot, with hardly a mention of the music. I don’t even think that he divulged that each character has its own key. Perplexing. Did he mean to go back and add these in, or was he less inspired by these pieces?
I suspect the latter. While Brown and I admired a lot of the same pieces, we diverged on what Tchaikovsky’s masterpieces were. That’s because I really love his overly romantic and dramatic compositions. Swan Lake, his first piano and violin concertos, the first two or three movements of Symphony No. 5… these move me to tears. Brown is a bigger fan of the more subtle pieces.
This book is probably a good read for anyone who appreciates Tchaikovsky, but it will serve you best if you have a bit of music theory or practice under your belt!
[Update 12/2024: It turns out that David Brown wrote a 4-volume biography of Tchaikovsky that I suspect dives much more deeply into all of the topics and analysis this book did not get into.]
I’ve been listening to classical music since I was five, and Tchaikovsky’s music always has ranked among my favorites. So I read this biography mostly wanting to learn more about the composer. Even so, David Brown increased my appreciation for the music, particularly Eugene Onegin. A few years ago, I read an excellent translation of the Pushkin verse story, which I highly recommend, and after reading Brown’s analysis I went in search of a performance on YouTube. I found and watched an excellent Finnish National Opera production and then bought the Dimitri Horoskovsky CD recording. All because I read about the opera in this book. Brown tells an engaging and sympathetic story of Tchaikovsky, a mostly kind and caring person, who strikes me as an introvert who had trouble handling his increasing fame. He was lucky to encounter a rich widow, an admirer, when he was in his thirties, who maintained a fascinating epistolary friendship and provided him with financial support, allowing Tchaikovsky to devote much of the rest of his life to music composition. Was he homosexual? It seems likely from the evidence in the book. And while that mattered in Tchaikovsky’s day, it doesn’t matter today. What does matter is the great creative gift he left to humanity: his wonderful music.
I thoroughly enjoyed delving into this biography of Tchaikovsky, the renowned Russian Romantic composer. It opened my eyes to the profound impact music can have on an individual's life. Brown has masterfully interwoven biographical insights into Tchaikovsky's life alongside insightful analyses of his compositions, particularly my two favorites, The Nutcracker and Swan Lake. While there were instances where I momentarily lost track of certain individuals and their connections to Tchaikovsky, the overall experience was enriching and captivating. I wholeheartedly recommend this book to anyone who cherishes Tchaikovsky's works and seeks to understand the cultural landscape of his era. And for a truly immersive reading experience, I highly encourage listening to Tchaikovsky's music simultaneously—it elevates the reading to a whole new level of appreciation
Someone who values music criticism would undoubtably get more out of this than I did; it's badly organized (thematic? chronological? not-quite-neither) and there is not nearly enough social context for the lay reader. The large cast of characters in Tchaikovsky's life is badly sketched, making it very difficult to keep track of who is who and what significance they have, very few events are dated explicitly, and Brown's attitude toward his subject's sexuality is frankly creepy.
I actually own David Brown's first volume "The Early Years: 1840-1874." In this volume the reader learns of Tchaikovsky's youth and beloved family. The reader is also introduced to Tchaikovsky's turbulent years as a civil servant, and then his entrance into music by way of Nikolai Zaremba's music theory classes. David Brown's work is an excellent introduction to Tchaikovsky's life and music, however it greatly helps if the reader has a strong musical theory background (I don't).
It is more than a simple "life and times" bio. Written by a UK musicologist, he also discusses the major works as a part of the flow of his story. It is nevertheless for the general reader. I find that I need to listen to the music as I go, so I'm collecting more music CDs. :-)
An interesting combination of biography and musical analysis. Professor Brown combines an in-depth biography of P.I. Tchaikovsky together with a detailed analysis of his major works. A useful glossary is included.
Overall, an excellent, thorough look at the life and works of Tchaikovsky - although I skipped much of the detailed musical analysis of his works, and disagreed with some of his harsher criticisms, it taught me much about the genius of the man and the worth of his music.