The Mentor: Russian Music, Vol. 4, Num. 18, Serial No. 118, November 1, 1916

In Short

This volume serves as a primer on the rapid development of Russian classical music, covering its history from the late eighteenth century to the early twentieth. By profiling key composers—Glinka, Rubinstein, Moussorgsky, Tchaikovsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, and Stravinsky—it examines how Russia moved from cultural dependence on Europe to creating an original, expressive, and often nationalistic musical language. It highlights the influence of folk melodies, the role of state patronage, and the tension between traditionalists and radicals, offering a snapshot of a vibrant, evolving art form as it stood in 1916.

The Story

The narrative of Russian music begins, paradoxically, with the absence of it. Until the reign of Catherine the Great, the Russian musical landscape was dominated by imported Italian works and foreign traditions. The story of a truly "Russian" school starts with Mikhail Glinka, who is credited as the pioneer of the national movement. His 1836 opera, A Life for the Czar, turned the tide by grounding its story in heroic, patriotic Russian history and infusing its structure with a uniquely Slavic spirit. Glinka’s initial success, however, was followed by the disappointment of his second opera, Ruslan and Ludmilla, marking the volatile relationship between Russian composers and their audiences.

The baton then passes to figures who navigated the complexities of training, identity, and professional success. Anton Rubinstein, a monumental virtuoso, viewed himself as a bridge between the Russian tradition and the classical rigor of European masters like Mendelssohn. Though he founded the Petrograd Conservatory, he often felt at odds with the "nationalist" school, which criticized him for his lack of reliance on folk tunes. This nationalist faction, including Moussorgsky and Rimsky-Korsakov, sought to build a musical identity exclusively upon the foundation of peasant songs and folklore. Moussorgsky, a staunch realist, focused on "art for life’s sake," seeking to mirror the raw psychology of his people rather than adhering to rigid academic forms.

The account then reaches Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky, whose work achieved a profound emotional resonance that transcended national boundaries. Despite early failures and professional struggles, his mastery of melody—evident in his symphonies and operas like Eugene Onegin—made him a global titan of the era. His life, marked by restlessness and deep sensitivity, represents a high-water mark of Russian musical achievement. Finally, the arc reaches Igor Stravinsky, who burst onto the international scene in the early twentieth century. Through his work with the Ballets Russes, specifically The Fire Bird and Petrouschka, Stravinsky pushed the boundaries of musical representation, transforming Russian folk stories and fantastic humor into a modern language that challenged traditional sensibilities. The story concludes by situating this evolution within the broader context of the Russian Ballet and the recent, enthusiastic international reception of Russian folk traditions, such as the balalaika and peasant choirs, signaling that the nation’s musical era had firmly arrived on the world stage.

How It Unfolds

The foundational roots The text establishes that Russian music is a young tradition, rooted in the popular inspiration of primitive songs and legends. It explains how physical and human conditions—a vast monarchy and a divide between the elite and the peasant class—delayed the development of a national consciousness until the nineteenth century.

The emergence of Glinka Glinka is presented as the father of the school, whose opera A Life for the Czar inaugurated a new epoch by weaving heroic history into the operatic form. The narrative describes his path from a government clerk to an artist who studied in Italy and Berlin before returning home to define a national style.

The virtuoso and the schoolmaster Anton Rubinstein is introduced as a peerless pianist and intellectual who founded the Petrograd Conservatory and championed a broader, European-influenced approach. His career highlights the clash between his ambitions for "sacred operas" and his frustration with the shifting musical tides of his day.

The nationalist versus the realist The text details the creative philosophies of the "nationalists," particularly Rimsky-Korsakov and Moussorgsky, who utilized folk melodies as the primary building blocks of their compositions. It contrasts Moussorgsky’s stark realism with Rimsky-Korsakov’s colorful orchestration and his role as a prolific teacher of the next generation.

The global success of Tchaikovsky Tchaikovsky’s journey from law student to professional composer is traced, highlighting his immense melodic gift and his eventual status as a world-renowned figure. The narrative documents his public challenges, such as the rejection of his early works, and his ultimate triumph in both Russia and abroad.

The modern avant-garde The final movement centers on Stravinsky, whose ballets revolutionized music through a combination of folk-inspired themes and radical satirical techniques. It notes the impact of Serge de Diaghileff and the ballet companies in bringing these complex, modern sounds to Paris and beyond.

The People

Mikhail Glinka acts as the catalyst, transitioning from an intermittent student to the pioneer of a national style, though his failure with Ruslan and Ludmilla underscores the difficulty of forging a new path. Anton Rubinstein appears as a figure of grandeur, seeking to be the "Russian Beethoven" but finding his legacy caught between his immense talent as a pianist and his embitterment over the failure of his operatic schemes. Modeste Moussorgsky is characterized as a "full-blooded realist," motivated by a desire to make music a vehicle for life rather than mere aesthetic pleasure, leading him to struggle with financial and professional instability. Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky emerges as a figure of profound melodic sensitivity, whose journey from a government job to the world’s concert halls is marked by a quest for artistic acceptance and a deep, melancholic humanity. Nicholas Rimsky-Korsakov serves as both a nationalist architect and a bridge between generations, tirelessly promoting the work of his peers and pupils while refining the "ungrammatical" impulses of the nationalist school. Finally, Igor Stravinsky represents the future, a young composer who, with the help of visionaries like Diaghileff, strips away the old conventions to find a new, sharper expression for Russian fantasy.

In Its Own Voice

"Folk tunes are like wild flowers, and in all countries the composers have heard the 'call of the wild' and tried to woo these flowers and bring them to their gardens."

This observation precedes the author’s explanation of how Russian composers incorporated the nation's diverse regional melodies into their symphonies and operas.

"The scene where Soussanin leads the Poles astray in the forest I read aloud while composing, and entered so completely into the situation of my hero that I used to feel my hair standing on end and cold shivers down my back."

Glinka, writing in his autobiography, describes the intense emotional state he experienced while creating his landmark opera.

"This ballet is, properly speaking, a travesty of human passion, expressed in terms of puppet gestures and illumined by music as expositor."

This quote from a critic summarizes the unique, satirical power of Stravinsky’s Petrouschka.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the birth and maturation of a national identity through music. The text argues that Russian music is defined by a unique synthesis of deep melancholy and extravagant gaiety, fueled by the vast landscape and the diverse, ancient heritage of the Russian people. It explores the intellectual conflict between "cosmopolitan" composers, who sought to align Russia with the classical traditions of Europe, and "nationalists," who insisted that true art must be built from the indigenous soil of peasant song. Underlying these artistic arguments is a broader question about how a nation, long held in subjection, finds its voice and asserts its cultural place in a world dominated by Western European standards.

Why Read It Today

This book is a fascinating artifact for anyone interested in the history of ideas or the development of Western classical music. Reading it feels like stepping into a 1916 classroom, where the voice of the critic is authoritative, direct, and slightly didactic. The reader will appreciate the clarity with which the author distills complex musical movements into understandable biographies and themes. However, it is important to note that the text reflects the period’s specific attitudes; its focus is limited to the "great men" of music, and it contains the generalizations one might expect from an early twentieth-century overview of an empire that was, at the time of writing, on the cusp of immense change.

Because it lacks the retrospective analysis of the events that followed 1916, it offers a sincere, "live" perspective on the rise of artists like Stravinsky when they were still new to the public consciousness. Those who enjoy learning about the creative process—how a composer transitions from a naval cadet or a lawyer to a master of the orchestra—will find the life stories particularly engaging. It is a brief, punchy, and informative read that captures the enthusiasm of a critic championing a rich, exotic, and rapidly evolving tradition.