Written by Valerie Sly, 2025

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893)

This unique program is the only one in the ASO’s 2024–25 season dedicated entirely to a single composer. Fittingly, it comes just after the 185th anniversary of Tchaikovsky’s birth on May 7. The first half of the program features two of his lesser-known works, while the second showcases one of his most celebrated symphonies.

Born in Votkinsk, Tchaikovsky was the first Russian composer whose music had significant influence in the West. As with many composers, he displayed exceptional talent on the piano from an early age, but at the time, musical career paths in Russia were limited. The few available roles— teaching or working in state theaters—were considered low in social status, and most Russian composers of the time had another primary vocation. As a result, Tchaikovsky initially studied to become a civil servant.

He hit a stroke of luck, however, with the timing of his graduation. Just as he was finishing his studies, Tsar Alexander II launched a nationwide effort to grow Russian arts culture. As part of this movement, the Saint Petersburg Conservatory was established, and Tchaikovsky enrolled in one of its first classes.

His training at the conservatory developed his skills considerably, but it also introduced an unexpected conflict in his musical voice. Tchaikovsky grew up immersed in the traditional music of Russia, but the conservatory taught a western approach to music.

There are many differences between the musical traditions of Eastern and Western Europe, but the most significant is the emphasis on structure versus melody. This difference is somewhat akin to a poet being focused more on the use of a specific rhyme scheme versus the meaning and sound of the particular words chosen.  Western classical music is highly focused on form–both the architecture of the piece and the way that harmonies progress from one to another. Russian music, in contrast, is more concerned with melodic and dramatic expression. It tends to favor slightly different scales, asymmetrical folk-inspired meters, and often repeats melodic material with a new accompaniment, rather than developing a melody as is typical of Western tradition.

As a Russian artist who was trained in Western compositional practice, Tchaikovsky wrestled with his musical identity but ultimately forged a unique voice that blends the highly satisfying harmonic language of Western Classical music with the rich melodic depth of his roots.

Following the premiere of the fifth symphony, he remarked “On Saturday I took part in a Russian Symphony concert. I am very glad that I could prove, in public, that I do not belong to any particular party.”

Among all his compositional assets, Tchaikovsky possessed a particular gift for melody. This is perhaps why he remains one of the most well-known and frequently performed composers today. Each year, millions of people celebrate the holidays with The Nutcracker, but his greatest hits extend far beyond the beloved Christmas staple. Tchaikovsky is responsible for some of the most iconic and recognizable melodies in the classical canon, including the love theme from his Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture–a piece so often used for romantic scenes that it has become almost a caricature of love at first sight. His other ballets, Sleeping Beauty and Swan Lake have also had an enduring cultural impact. Disney’s “Once Upon a Dream” is directly adapted from Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty score, and the “swan theme” from Swan Lake remains one of classical music’s most famous melodies. Simply put, the man knew how to write a truly unforgettable tune.

Like many great artists, Tchaikovsky’s creativity was fueled, at least in part, by personal tragedy. His first composition was written following the death of his mother when he was just fourteen. He was also deeply affected by the death of his close friend and colleague Nikolai Rubinstein. Beyond this, his sexuality has been the topic of much discussion and debate. Most scholars agree that he was gay, but the extent to which this caused him distress remains unclear. Some believe he struggled greatly with his sexual identity, while others argue he may have reached a degree of private acceptance.

Regardless of his internal experience, being publicly outed as a gay man in Tsarist Russia would have been extremely dangerous, which must have caused at least a degree of worry. Part of the long-standing confusion surrounding his sexuality stems from the Soviet Union’s efforts to suppress it; Soviet editors actively censored letters and documents that referenced his romantic feelings for men, and members of the Russian Culture Ministry continued to deny it as recently as 2013.

His death, too, has sparked considerable debate. Just six days after the premiere of his Pathétique—or “Tragic”—Symphony, he succumbed to Cholera–the same disease that took his mother. However, many have speculated that he may have deliberately consumed contaminated water. I won’t add to the speculation surrounding Tchaikovsky’s personal life or death, but it’s easy to understand why it has drawn such intense interest. His music carries a sense of emotional turbulence that suggests inner conflict. Many composers have possessed a unique ability to capture specific emotional states—Mozart evokes a sense of serene contentment, Beethoven a restless intensity. For Tchaikovsky, it is a profound, heartbreaking longing. Perhaps this is why scholars have been so fascinated by his private life: his music expresses such exquisite yearning that one can’t help but wonder what it was that he longed for so ardently.