Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
(1840-1893)

Piano Concerto No. 2 in G Major, Op. 44

Composed 1879-1880

While Tchaikovsky’s first piano concerto has long held a firm place in the standard repertoire, his Piano Concerto No. 2 remains a relative rarity—though undeservedly so. Composed between October 1879 and April 1880, the second concerto is a rich, imaginative, and often surprising work full of virtuosic challenges, emotional nuance, and orchestral sophistication. It was born not of commission or external pressure, but from Tchaikovsky’s own desire to stay creatively engaged during a quiet period in his career. “I find myself absolutely incapable of living long without work,” he confessed in a letter to his brother. And so, he began composing the new concerto during a stay at his sister’s country estate in Kamenka, Ukraine—a beloved retreat where many of his major works were born.

Initially conceived in reverse—Tchaikovsky sketched the finale first—the concerto was written in fits and starts while traveling through Moscow, Paris, and Rome. The completed score was ready by May 1880, and Tchaikovsky dedicated the work to his friend and former critic Nikolai Rubinstein, who had previously panned the composer’s first concerto only to later champion it. Tragically, Rubinstein died in 1881 before he could premiere the piece. The debut instead fell to Tchaikovsky’s student Sergei Taneyev, who performed the Russian premiere in Moscow. The world premiere, however, occurred in New York in 1881, making it the second of Tchaikovsky’s piano concertos to be introduced to the world by American audiences.

The concerto’s expansive first movement, Allegro brillante e molto vivace, opens with a formal, martial theme in the orchestra, immediately echoed by the solo piano. Tchaikovsky’s boldness is on full display in a striking cadenza that arrives midway through the development section—an unusual placement that throws listeners off balance but thrillingly reorients the form. The piano writing is episodic yet electrifying, a muscular challenge for any soloist.

The slow movement, Andante non troppo, is the most unconventional of the three. Here, the piano takes a back seat while the spotlight turns to the concertmaster and principal cellist, who perform extended, lyrical solos in duet. This unexpected chamber music interlude gives the movement the intimacy of a triple concerto and a deeply human quality—lush, expressive, and introspective.

The finale Allegro con fuoco shifts gears completely. Dotted rhythms and galloping energy channel the spirit of a Russian dance, as Tchaikovsky whirls through three themes in a modified rondo form. The piano and orchestra engage in a lively dialogue, now fully integrated after the fragmented textures of the first movement. It’s a movement of charm and drive, bringing the concerto to a brilliant close.

Despite early praise, the concerto was later altered by pianist Alexander Siloti, who shortened the work, simplified the solo part, and even changed the order of some sections. Tchaikovsky strongly objected to these changes, calling them “mutilations.” Unfortunately, the edited version became standard for many decades. Only in more recent years has the original version—more dramatic and structurally daring—been restored to performance, allowing audiences to appreciate the concerto as Tchaikovsky envisioned it. This original version is what will be heard in these concerts.

While the second piano concerto lacks the instantly recognizable melodies of its predecessor, it compensates with architectural boldness, orchestral inventiveness, and rhythmic vitality. Its unique character has even inspired choreography: in 1941, choreographer George Balanchine created Ballet Imperial using Siloti’s version. The music, Balanchine said, “may not be the greatest, but it’s perfect for dancing.”

Today, Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 2 is enjoying a well-deserved revival. Its sweeping gestures, technical demands, and heartfelt lyricism confirm that there is far more to Tchaikovsky’s concerto writing than his famous first for piano. In the second, we hear a composer willing to take risks—sometimes sprawling, always passionate, and utterly individual.

Instrumentation – two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, timpani, strings, and solo piano

Duration – 44 minutes

~ Kenneth Bean 
Georg and Joyce Albers-Schonberg Assistant Conductor
Princeton Symphony Orchestra