THE STORY BEHIND THE MUSIC: Tchaikovsky’s “Pathétique” Symphony

Some listeners claim Tchaikovsky’s heartfelt “Pathétique” Symphony reveals a secret passion that killed him. Listen—then decide for yourself.

Was it just an unfortunate twist of fate that Tchaikovsky drank a glass of cholera-contaminated water five days after conducting the premiere of his Symphony No. 6? Was he unconsciously punishing himself for the sexual impulses that tormented him, perhaps even succumbing to an urge to die? Or did he, in fact, commit suicide to conceal his alleged affair with the nephew of Duke Stenbock Thurmor? We may never know the answer, but our awareness of his inner conflicts can add depth to our experience in listening to his impassioned “Pathétique.”

Cholera was rife in Saint Petersburg in 1893, and citizens throughout the city were boiling their drinking water. It’s hard to imagine Tchaikovsky, who always fretted and feared the worst, letting his guard down offhandedly. He worried about his image both as a composer whose reputation would survive him and as a public figure in Russian society. And he knew that since Beethoven, the symphony was a form that serious composers reserved for big ideas and programmatic music that might have a narrative line or an intellectual agenda connected with the philosophical ideas of greatest concern to them.

For Tchaikovsky, his repressed homosexuality and the possibility of marriage were among these ideas. Dangerous as homosexuality was in that time and place—punishable by exile to Siberia—it seems likely that he was more concerned with appearances, and saw marriage as his chance for an outwardly normal life. Fifteen years earlier, in 1877, he had married a 16-year-old student, Antonina Miliukhova, who was infatuated with him. The marriage was an unmitigated disaster, plunging Tchaikovsky into such unbearable tension that he could not bear to be near her. In one close encounter when they found themselves in the same room, they passed without exchanging a word.

By 1892, when he was working on early sections of a sixth symphony in E-flat major, Tchaikovsky was one of the most famous composers in the world—a man whose fame redounded to the glory of his homeland, as he had hoped it would. But at age 53, his struggles with self-image and sexual identity were no closer to resolution. Musicologists’ analyses of his agonized homosexual relationships are speculative, but it’s difficult to escape some obvious conclusions about his conflicted relationship with his nephew Bob Davydov, with whom he was in love: Davydov’s encouragement and understanding were indispensable to the self-doubting Tchaikovsky, but the younger man’s very presence in the composer’s life was a temptation and a reminder of feelings he was trying to suppress. How could he continue to craft a symphony that was planned to be highly programmatic, and thus self-revealing?

Tchaikovsky intended his Symphony No. 6 as a programmatic work, and listening to it convinces us that the program is specific and detailed, yet the details remain unknown. He wrote to Ddavydov that it would “remain a mystery—let them guess.” Today we are still guessing. The sound of this symphony gives us a sense of inchoate longing: somber, melancholy and yearning by turns. The ovation that greeted Tchaikovsky when he took the podium in October 1893 to lead the premiere performance was not matched once the symphony ended, when the audience was left to reflect on the secrets of this moody masterpiece. Today it is esteemed as one of Tchaikovsky’s most eloquent expressions of disappointed hopes and the ache for personal fulfillment—recurrent themes in earlier works such as his opera Eugene Onegin.

Tchaikovsky famously said that he had put his “whole soul” into the “Pathétique.” We may never know the demons that inhabited that soul, but we can hear the tortured sincerity of his feelings. For better or worse, those feelings ended in death nine days after he conducted the symphony’s premiere.

There are four chances to experience Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony in April. The evening classical concert wraps with the “Pathétique,” Apr. 25-27. Or, join us for a Sunday Matinee on Sunday, Apr. 28 where you’ll not get to enjoy the music but also commentary provided by Guest Conductor Shiyeon Sung as she guides you through the piece. You can learn more about Maestra Sung in the video interview below.

Michael Clive is a cultural reporter living in the Litchfield Hills of Connecticut. He is program annotator for Pacific Symphony and Louisiana Philharmonic, editor-in-chief for The Santa Fe Opera and editor of OperaHound.com.