Symphony No. 6 in B minor “Pathétique”

Tchaikovsky

1840-1893

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky began writing his final work, the Symphony No. 6 in B minor in February 1893, according to a letter the composer wrote to his nephew Vladimir Davydov. In that letter, he explains that the symphony will follow a “deeply subjective” program, though he adds that its meaning will remain a mystery. The Russian title “Pateticheskaya,” chosen by Tchaikovsky himself and translated as “Pathétique” by his brother Modest, nonetheless suggests a deeply personal, even autobiographical, connection. Completed in August, the work premiered under Tchaikovsky’s direction on October 28 in Saint Petersburg, leaving the audience awed, but puzzled. When it was performed again three weeks later, it was met with triumphant acclaim. Tragically, in the interim, Tchaikovsky passed away—officially of cholera, though some historians have suggested suicide as a more plausible explanation for his sudden death. 

The first movement opens with a slow, sombre introduction, in which the bassoon introduces the theme over a background of strings. This theme returns in the faster section that follows, serving as the foundation for the rhapsodic Allegro non troppo. A second lyrical and tender idea offers a striking contrast to the earlier turmoil, which reaches its peak in a passionate development section that includes an excerpt from the Orthodox Requiem, “With the saints give rest.” The second movement is an elegant waltz—though it is built on an unusual five-beat meter. Its carefree grace gives way, in the central section, to melancholy and sorrow, with the heavy beating of a troubled heart evoked by a haunting, repeated D in the bass. 

The third movement is a lively scherzo full of swirling energy. Amid the rapid staccato figures emerges a march theme, which Tchaikovsky described as “solemn and jubilant.” This theme builds gradually until it bursts forth with the full force of the orchestra. The symphony closes not with grandeur, but with a slow movement—an elegiac meditation that seems to reach into the deepest parts of the composer’s soul. Intensely expressive, the music gradually fades away, descending into the orchestra’s lowest registers and echoing the beginning of the work. If we accept the idea of this symphony as an autobiographical journey, it’s easy to hear in it the tormented life and tragic end of its extraordinary creator, shaped into the most heartbreaking of musical farewells.  

© François Zeitouni
Translation: Laura Schulz