We’re going to the parts of St.Petersburg once frequented by the founding
father of Russian classical music, Mikhail Glinka…
Overlooking the Fontanka River in the early 19th century, right near the
place where the Fontanka empties into the Bay of Finland, was a beautiful
mansion housing an elitist school attended by scions of Russia’s noble
families. Boys from around the vast Empire were brought in to study and
live there. It was there that the 13-year-old Mikhail Glinka was
brought in 1817.
Brought in from a family estate near Smolensk, the boy, used to parental
comfort and care, initially felt fairly ill at ease there, even though
his caring mother had arranged for the little Misha to enjoy a wealth of
fringes, like, for example, the privilege to live in a separate attic where
the boy, a great fan of all things living, was allowed to domesticate pigeons
and even look after his much-loved rabbits.
Glinka was also allowed to install a Tischner grand piano hauled in from
their family estate. The good old grand is now on display at a national
museum of music and musical culture in Moscow.
Music was a major subject and the boys were supposed to play several instruments.
Glinka learned to play the violin but had a special flair for the piano
learning from, among others, Karl Meyer whom he admired all his life.
His course mates included, among others, Lev Pushkin, the younger brother
of the then up and coming poet Alexander Pushkin. Alexander would often
came to see his brother and during one such visit he saw Glinka but the
red-cheeked, very short and well-fed boy made no impression on the would-be
founder of the Russian literary language. The two were destined to meet
again and work together much later…
Graduating from the Fontanka boarding school four years later, Mikhail
Glinka was in no rush to enter public service. He took his time for a whole
three years before finally making up his mind. Each morning he would head
to the Railways Ministry office on Sadovaya Street where he worked as a
clerk. He didn’t care much for paperwork, though, because his heart
and soul were all filled with music…
Very soon and much to his father’s dissatisfaction, Glinka gave up his
job devoting himself wholly to music and becoming a regular guest at music
and literary salons where he shone both as a pianist, a fine baritone and
the author of popular love songs.
It was during one such gathering in spring 1828 that Glinka came across
the popular dramatist Alexander Griboyedov. Also a prominent diplomat preparing
to go to Kabul as part of a Russian mission, Griboyedov, a great fan of
playing in a friendly circle, went right to the piano and played a strange,
a bit clumsy tune he had recently picked up in Georgia. There was
something at once wild and magnetic in that melody. The guests cheered
up and, caught in the general mood, Glinka tried to provide an accompaniment
right away. Alexander Pushkin who was also there, came up with the lyrics
and before everyone knew it the three produced a hauntingly beautiful romance
Don’t Sing, My Beauty, Whilst I’m Around which is still very popular here
in Russia…
More mutually rewarding meetings followed and the initial indifference
Pushkin felt for his brother’s friend had long given way to heartfelt admiration
for someone so well versed in music. Glinka, for his part, was eagerly
picking up Pushkin’s every word writing more and more romances to the great
poet’s lyrics, so beautiful and inspiring…
During the 1830s Mikhail Glinka was a familiar face in the house of the
prominent poet Vasily Zhukovsky who hosted weekly gatherings of well-known
writers, musicians and artists. During one such event Zhukovsky asked Glinka
to write an opera. Glinka immediately latched onto the idea saying
he would prefer an opera on a Russian theme. Zhukovsky suggested
putting to music the story of Ivan Susanin, Czar Mikhail Romanov’s steward
who gave his life for his royal master. Glinka liked the idea and
immediately got down to work…
Glinka called his opera “Ivan Susanin”, after his main character, but the
people at the Directorate of Imperial Theaters where he brought his brainchild
renamed it to “Death for the Czar”. The opera was approved and rehearsals
commenced. Emperor Nicholas I who was invited to the premiere thought
the name sounded too dismal and, crossing out Death, wrote in Life instead
- “Life for the Czar”…
We are now heading for the Teatralnaya Square where the Big Stone Theater
stood in the first half of the 19th century. There was an Italian opera
company normally playing there but on Friday, November 27 of 1836, the
place played host to the first opera written by a Russian…
The city’s high society, including the royal family, was all there sitting
in the gilded boxes, there were many famous musicians and writers, Alexander
Pushkin included, taking up the stalls and students packing up the “gods”
like they usually did…
As soon as the curtain went up, there walked out on stage an ordinary Russian
peasant wearing bast shoes. Accustomed to stage versions of high-flown
mythological themes, the aristocratic part of the audience started complaining
loudly: “It’s a coachman’s opera!” After the first act was over, the royals
departed with the white-boned aristocrats following suit…
The intellectuals and students stayed on, though, applauding furiously
after each number, especially Ivan Susanin’s final aria…
“Life for the Czar” ended with a triumphant tune which has since accompanied
many a grand occasion here in Russia…
The critical response was equally glowing. Some reviewers even came up
with a rhymed eulogy, which became the talk of the whole city literally
the morning after it was written…
Glinka’s opera opened a new chapter in the history of Russian art. It was
the first all-Russian opera based on Russian folklore but written in the
best classical European tradition. “Life for the Czar” was quickly taken
up by each and every operatic company across Russia and some of its arias
have since regularly been played in concert.
Riding the high wave of well-deserved popularity in the wake of the triumphal
premiere of the “Life for the Czar” opera, Glinka now found it hard to
go outside without having a bevy of well wishers following his every step.
Glinka’s popularity did not make him any richer, though, and, to make ends
meet, he started thinking about getting back to the civil service. In 1837
he accepted an invitation to conduct the Royal Capella.
Members of the St.Petersburg Capella enjoyed some pretty comfortable perks,
including high salaries and free apartments in the city center, just a
two minutes’ walk from the Winter Palace. For a 33-year-old composer without
permanent abode and guaranteed income it certainly was an offer he couldn’t
refuse…
A fine singer in the know of all the ins and outs of the trade, Glinka
really enjoyed working with the singers. Besides, as a choirmaster, he
was on the lookout for new singers for the Capella for which reason he
crisscrossed the country, going primarily to the Ukraine, long famous for
the beautiful voices they have there. The impressions he picked up along
the way later brushed off on his music…
The singers immediately cozied up to the new choirmaster, so talented and
so kind. Glinka’s rising popularity did not sit well with the Capella’s
chief manager though. Before long the man found it hard to hold back his
animosity and feeling the heat, Glinka found refuge meeting his friends
after work…
Once a week, on Thursdays, the veritable cream of the city’s artistic society
gathered at Glinka’s flat overlooking the Moika River. The host entertained
the guests playing his new pieces on the piano and singing his newly written
romances…
Mikhail Glinka first thought about writing an opera to Alexander Pushkin’s
Ruslan and Lyudmila poem. He hoped the great poet would help write the
libretto but Pushkin’s tragic death in a duel dashed those ambitious plans.
The opera’s writing progressed at a snail’s pace, held up by a plethora
of problems, including Glinka’s constant moving from place to place.
Eventually forced to give up his job with the Capella and vacate the Moika
apartment, Glinka was moving from place to place, at times spending much
time out of town. Getting back to the
capital, he would normally stay with one of his friends. The lack of his
own lodgings prevented Glinka from devoting himself wholly to music. That’s
why “Ruslan and Lyudmila” took him more than five years to write...
The work finally done, the new opera was approved by the Imperial Theaters’
Directorate and the premiere date was set. Like with the opera “Life for
the Czar”, “Ruslan and Lyudmila” was scheduled to premiere on November
27…
On November 27, 1842 this all-time Russian musical classic finally saw
daylight on the stage of that very same Big Stone Theater in St. Petersburg.
Ferenz Liszt who at the time was on a tour here in Russia, heard parts
of “Ruslan and Lyudmila”, called Glinka a genius and included his own virtuoso
piano transcripts of some of the opera’s arias in his concert program…
Brimming with fairly-tale adventures and magical transformations, “Ruslan
and Lyudmila” was a resounding success and has since graced the billboards
of Russia’s finest theaters, including, of course, the Mariinsky Theater
in St.Petersburg which sees itself as a lawful inheritor of the Big Stone
Theater…
Meanwhile, we are heading to Pavlovsk. One of the city’s most scenic suburbs,
Pavlovsk was understandably proud of its very elegant palace the world’s
finest architects crafted for Emperor Pavel I back in the 18th century,
and also of the majestic railway station they had there…
Besides serving its main purpose, the terminal was also a concert hall
and a dance floor. It was there, by the way, that one of Mikhail Glinka’s
best orchestral works, the Fantasy Waltz premiered in the mid 1840s…
The Fantasy Waltz immediately caught on with the public and was a fixture
of the concerts played at the Pavlovsk station. People even dubbed
it the Pavlovsk Waltz and it was much loved by the King of the Vienna Waltz,
Johann Strauss who then conducted a dance orchestra at Pavlovsk…
In the early 1850s Mikhail Glinka rented a flat in Ertelevsky Lane in St.Petersburg,
attracted above all, by the apartment’s big hall with four large windows
looking out. Each Friday he invited his friends, most of them members
of the city’ beau monde, to come over.
Young composer and pianist Mily Balakirev was a regular guest at those
Friday gatherings. His big talent was not lost on the host who admired
the young man’s broad outlook and dazzling pianism. Glinka said Balakirev
had a great future in store and his predictions eventually came resoundingly
true…
There was lots of new music played during those Fridays with the host hearing
out other people’s compositions and always playing his own. Sometimes they
would play a sort of a classical jam session improvising on tunes they
had never heard before…
On April 27, 1856 Mikhail Glinka left for Berlin where he had a raft of
meetings scheduled for him, among them with the famous Professor Siegfrid
Dehn. The Russian composer wanted to find
a way to bring together the European fugue and national musical tradition.
Mikhail Glinka’s collaboration with Professor Dehn proved rather short-lived
though. On February 15, 1857 Glinka died of pneumonia. Temporarily buried
in Berlin, his body was moved to St.Petersburg three months later and interred
at the St.Alexander Nevsky monastery where many other famous Russians rest
in peace…
Mikhail Glinka’s name is now gracing the St.Petersburg Capella (formerly
Royal Capella) the composer once worked at, and has also been given to
comfortably small concert hall his chamber pieces usually premiered at.
And there is also a monument to Mikhail Glinka on the Teatralnaya Square
where the great Russian composer is facing the theater he once brought
his operas to…
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