CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY MUSIC ML 410.S623H9T"""' "^""^ * SmmmmmiSliSrSP^K Scriabin' 3 1924 022 193 431 Cornell University Library The original of tliis bool< is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022193431 gibrarg of IKaBtt attft jKttgmattg EDITED BY A. EAGLEFIELD HULL MUS. DOC. (OXON.) A GREAT RUSSIAN TONE-POET SCRIABIN Xfbrars of /ftusfc an^ /ftusfcfans EDITED BY A. EAGLEFIELD HULL, Mus. Doc. (OxoN.) Crown Svo. Occasionally illustrated HANDEL. By Rohain Rolland A GREAT RUSSIAN TONE-POET— SCRIABIN. By the Editor BEETHOVEN. By Romaim Rolland BACH. By the Editok. {Siartly) MUSSORGSKY. By M. P. Calvocoressi. [Shortiyi BRITISH COMPOSERS. (Pint Series.) By the Editor. iSharily) EARLY FRENCH MUSICIANS. By Marv Hargravbs TL\)z ;flDusfc Xover's Xf&rars A series of small books on various musical subjects written in a popular style for the general reader EDITOR A. EAGLEFIELD HULL, Mus. Doc. (Oxon.) Each about tea f ages 1. SHORT HISTORY OF MUSIC. By the Editor 2. SHAKESPEARE : HIS MUSIC AND SONG By A. H. MoNCUR-SiMB 3. THE UNFOLDING OF HARMONY By Charles Macfhbkson, F.R.A.M., Organist St. Paul's Cathedral 4. THE STORY OF MEDIAEVAL MUSIC By R. R. Terry, Mus. Doc. (Dublin), Director of Music at the Pro- Cathedral, Westminster 5. MUSIC AND RELIGION. By W. W. Longpord, D.D., M.A. 6. MODERN MUSICAL STYLES. By the Editor 7. ON LISTENING TO AN ORCHESTRA. By M. Montagh-Nathan S. EVERYMAN AND HIS MUSIC. By P. A. Scholes 9. MUSIC AND ESTHETICS. By J. B. McEwen, M.A, F.R.A.M. 10. THE VOICE IN SONG AND SPEECH. By Gordon Heller 11. DESIGN OR CONSTRUCTION IN MUSIC. By the Editor xs. MUSICAL ACOUSTICS. By D. Segaller, D.Sc. (Lond.) KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., LTD., LONDON ALEXANDER SCRIABIN (1914) [Frontispiece A Great Russian Tone- Poet SCRIABIN BY A. EAGLEFJELD HULL MUS. DOC. (OXONO EDITOR OF "TH& MONTHLY MUSICAL RECORD WITH 165 MUSICAL ILLUSTRATIONS ANI^^ 4. PliAO'i^j^ "l\V> • ., < / ''///. LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER ^ Co., Ltd. NEW YORK : E. P. DUTTON & jCo. 1918 PItlNTED IN SSBAT BKITAIN CONTENTS Foreword PAGB vi PART I.-HIS LIFE I. Introduction .... II. The Musical Awakening in Russia . III. The Exposition : Scriabin's Parentage AND Childhood IV. First Subject : Scriabin's Studentship — V. Development : A Man with an Idea ^ VI. Coda : The Last Years PART II.— HIS WORKS VII. The Early Works . ... VIII. The Works of the Transition Period . — .IX. The "Mystic Chord" . — ^ The Ten Sonatas ... -^ XI. The Five Symphonies . ... ~--.XII. The Hater Piano Pieces (Opp. 52 to 74) . XIII. Music and Colour . ... XIV. Form and Style . ... XV. His Orchestration and Vocal Writing . XVI. The Sources of His Inspiration XVI I. Scriabin's Position in Music . XVIII. Future Possibilities . ... Postscript . . ... APPENDICES I. Symphonies and Sonatas II. The Complete Works III. Notes on the Complete Pianoforte Works . . ... IV. Approximate Pronunciation of the Rus- sian Names Mentioned in the Text . Index . . ... I S IS 38 38 59 82 97 lOI 116 164 206 216 231 239 249 262 270 274 275 278 282 294 297 FOREWORD The author lays no claim to have written a full biography of Scriabin. The material to hand was not sufficient for this ; and many channels of in- formation were closed by the great European war. Scriabin domiciled in at least three countries — Russia, Switzerland, and Belgium ; and toured in eight foreign lands. One of his aims has been to furnish an account of some of the most interesting and important experiments which have ever been made in musical "art. Scriabin's activities were many-sided and far-reaching ; and, in one respect at least, he may be said to have himself consummated the possibilities of their application. Many people have wondered where the purely physical development of music on the lines adopted by Debussy and others was leading us ; Scriabin shows us its fullest possibilities — and its limitations. He gives us a completely new system of harmony ; he abolishes the major and minor modes ; he anni- hilates modulation and chromatic inflection ; he abandons all key-signatures ; and finally applies his ideas to the most modern scale we have reached so far, i.e. the " Duodecuple." Moreover, at the time of his death he was experimenting with the unifica- tion of the various arts of sound, light, and bodily vi FOREWORD vn movement {mimique) ; and, as if all this were not enough, wove a system of theosophy into the art of his latest period. Although probably too much account has been taken of the latter, yet surely the sum-total of Scriabin's work has brought about an artistic revolution unequalled in the whole history of the arts. As one of the chief aims of the book is the further spreading of the knowledge of Scriabin's work, only those biographical details are sup- plied which have a direct bearing on his crea- tions. Much of his life-story had to be pieced together bit by bit ; and half the charm in writing the book was the dovetailing of English, French, and Russian newspaper reports, articles from periodicals, etc., into the very incomplete sketches of Mr. Eugen Gunst. Some of it is mere con- jecture — a dangerous plan in biography in general — ^but reasonable enough when only applied to such minor details as humdrum Conservatoire courses, etc. The author has been greatly indebted to the writings of Mr. Leon Sabanieff as well as Mr. Eugen Gunst ; to his correspondent Miss Ellen von Tidebohl of Moscow ; and also to his friend Mr. W. Bray for much help with translations, etc. These acknow- ledgments apply mainly to Chapters III to VI. For the rest — analysis, technique, and aesthetics — he takes the full responsibility on his own shoulders. The " first person " has been used with appreciations and criticisms in order to prevent the reader from accepting the opinions as dogmatic or Vlll FOREWORD in any way final. Any aesthetic musical criticism which claims to be more than a personal expression is to his mind hollow and insincere. Especially would this be the case with so recent a composer as Scriabin. There must be the same general con- sensus of approval of the later works of Scriabin by musicians, as there is with the earlier works, before we can clearly decide his place amongst the greatest in music. At present there is certain to be a small minority of the older musicians to whom aU modern music is distasteful. For these, it is hoped that the present book may at least place them into a position with Scriabin's music similar to that of the Russian Greneral regarding Wagner's music. He " didn't like it, but he wasn't afraid of it." The Russian dates have been used throughout for all events except the London Concerts. To arrive at the correct Western dates, add thirteen days to the given date. No apology is made for the spelling of Russian names. It is quite impossible to write some of them correctly in English. No two writers render them alike, and even Russian scholars differ. There remains to be acknowledged the great help so readily given by the composer's friend and English host Mr. Kling, of Messrs. Chester and Co., Great Marlborough Street, W. The portraits of Scriabin are produced by his kind permission. A. E. H. SCRIABIN INTRODUCTION Have you ever considered what a truly wonderful and deeply mystical thing a musical sound is ? If you sprinkle some light sand on a pianoforte lid or, better still, on a specially arranged vibration plate, and strike a complete chord, the sand wUl begin to dance about and finally settle down into a beautiful geometrical pattern ; strike another chord and the gyrating sand will finally dispose itself into a set of four roses or something equally interesting. Now thump the piano lid with your fist and the sand will heap itself up anyhow. That represehts the difference between musical sound and noise. But perhaps the most mystical part of sound and light too is that there is no such material at all. Both are vibration interpreted differently. That is all. If you were to start the full organ in Westminster Abbey going by some mecha.nical process and go away closing the Abbey to everyone, but leaving the organ going|at full blast, the Abbey would be 2 SCRIABIN soundless. Why ? Because to complete the Sound mystery, you must have a participant who will be a mental interpreter before you obtain any sound at all. This brings to mind that wonderful little " Corti's organ " — a sort of piano keyboard — inside every- one's ear, the hundred little keys of which are fl5dng up and down recording sensitory impressions all day long ! Then what a wonderful thing is the S3anpathetic vibration of sound — ^a close analogy to the resultants of two adjacent complementary colours in painting ! That Sfevres vase there on my mantelpiece might be broken without any physical contact whatsoever — just by standing on the other side of the room and playing the right note on a violin. Further — ^we know that no musical note is single or isolated, but that every apparently single sound has numberless little satelhtes, some of which we cannot detect, but all there nevertheless. These upper " partial '"sounds " can be reinforced or weakened by the different qualities of instruments, by the arrangements of harmony, and by many other means. Small wonder then that this mystery has proved a siren from time to time to draw men's minds from musical art to the science of musical sound, and thence back again to a possible combination of the two. A veritable ignis fatuus it has indeed proved hitherto, for musical harmony as we know it was surely never evolved from acoustic laws, but on purely aesthetic lines. INTRODUCTION 3 The Right Honourable Arthur J. Balfour, address- ing the International Musical Congress in London at their Fourth Annual Congress, said : "Of all the arts. Music seems to be connected more inti- mately than any other with dry scientific facts. You can state in mathematical physics, certain important truths with which music is intimately connected. But I do not believe that out of the mathematical theory of the scale or of the chords, or of the theory of harmony, anything in the nature of a true musical aesthetic can ever be deduced." This was in 1911, and all the leading musicians present cordially agreed with|him. Yet all the time a great new tone-poet was working in Russia on these very lines which had been voted so impossible. Scriabin derived all harmony from " Nature's harmonic chord," and thus carried the .Science of Sound triumphantly into the regions of Art. But he attempted more than this. What shall we say of the wonders of Light and Colour ? Photography has reached undreamt-of stages, and artists have analysed and tabulated the chromatic rays, the principal relation of tones, their complementary colours and resultant tones, but no union has yet been effected between the Scientific knowledge and a system of iEsthetics. Again, Light, like Sound, is no concrete object, but just a fleeting impression recorded in various ways through the mind of the individual receiver. 4 SCRIABIN Truly little do we know about the Science of Colour ; yet here is a musical genius with the amazing temerity to propose a union between these two great mystic forces. Light and Sound. Cer- tainly a record of the works and doings of such a man is worth attempting. II THE MUSICAL AWAKENING IN RUSSIA " Everything has a father." Russian Saying. Any attempt to appreciate Scriabin — much more to understand him thoroughly — ^without a know- ledge of the growth of Art-music in Russia would end in failure to seize many of the leading character- istics of his work. Many critics have divided music by Russian composers into two clear divisions, distinguishing the purely Russian art like Mussorgsky's from that of the eclectic composer like Tchaikovsky. But the Russian when clad in Western clothes cannot help beiuig Russian, just as much as when he wears the caftan and chapan. There are hundreds of passages in Tchaikovsky's works which only a Russian could have written; and only Russia could have produced a nature so peculiarly endowed as Tchaikovsky's. So it is with Scriabin. Although he was trained on the purely eclectic system, which has been more particularly the chief feature of the Moscow Conservatoire, rather than that of the Russian Northern capital, yet he was essentially Russian by nature, and, as a matter of course, shows this in his music. 6 SCRIABIN Russia, that land of extremes, that mighty empire which spreads itself out vastly over two continents, that nation of numberless races popu- lating its wealthy cities, navigating its mighty rivers, and spreading themselves out in settlements over its boundless plains, has at least two national characteristics which permeates its utmost extent — from the Baltic shores in the North to the southern Russian confines of the Caucasus, from the sunny slopes of the Urals to the bleak Kirghiz wastes. And these two characteristics, which bind all these races in one are that wonderful .gjit-QjUroaginatioa which begets and retains for ages the stories of the vodyano (rivergods), the lesi (woodsprites), the humanised animals, the ugly old witch, Baba-Yaga (the sound of whose name is enough to quieten the crying child with chilling fear), the miraculous hens, the midnight dances, and so on ; and their jnairelbus love_^_, jolkdnusic, song and dance which has ever held as firm a hold on these vast races. The traditional songs sung and danced to the gusslee and the balalaika embrace the whole of national life, transmuting the misery of their present condition into beautiful dreams of the past, and aspirations for the future. Ethnological and geographical conditions thread their music with strands of every hue. In the inclement regions of the North the songs have a long-suffering melancholy note, but where Russia touches the fairy East, their melodies are ^acious and tender, evocatory of the *un, and infused with languor. But more than any other race, it is the Slavs — THE MUSICAL AWAKENING IN RUSSIA 7 that purest of all the Russian stocks — ^who sing. In the government of Novgorod, of Moscovy and Little Russia, the Slavs sing at their work, at their play, at their religious festivals, at the rites of the seasons ; they celebrate musically all the events of their lives — ^birth, love, marriage, and death ; trouble, sorrow, good fortune, and parting; the rain, the river, the sky, and all Nature herself ; they sing in solo, in chorus, in legend, in byliny, in dirge, in dances ; in songs of work and travel and in the home. They are always deeply saturated with the poetry of the race from which they spring. What immense possibilities are open to a race who have thus retained through the ages the pristine freshness of the great human springs. Small wonder that the minds of such musical composers as Stravinsky, R^bikoff, and Scriabin fly with almost feminine intuition to the very fount of the race, when primitive man was apparently as unsullied as Nature herself. Truly enough there is a deep gulf fixed between musical Art and the Folk-music ; but the imagination and the poetry of the moujik comes out just as surely in the mysticism and originality of the twentieth-century intelligentsia. As an art Music was slow to rise in Russia, and even then its late advent had to be brought about from outside. This exotic impetus was a thing the Russian musical composer never seems to have forgiven and periodically resents ; for their excit- ingly full musical history, though short and recent,* is the story of acontinual and exaggerated " hark- 8 SCRIABIN ing back to the people." First it was Glinka — then Cui — then Mussorgsky; and both Tchaikovsky and Scriabin were accused from time to time of being " not sufficiently Russian." ^ But Nationalism in Music can easily be carried too far. So can Exoticism : witness England. • • • , • ■ • There was and still is a sort of Art-music of great antiquity in Russia. I refer to the imison chants of the Orthodox Church, directly descending from the Greek Christians, — ^that purest form of the ancient Christian Church, polluted neither by temporal ambition nor mercenary desire. The pure and pristine state of their Church music is of supreme value to the Russian musical composers, for it has kept them away from the hard grip of the limited major and minor scales. • ••■•■ A short sketch of the rise of Russian secular musical art is necessary before we begin our study of Scriabin. In former times, music as a profane art was little estimated in Russia. In the Middle . Ages the Church banned it entirely ; and even as late as the sixteenth century a canon forbade it. An ancient mural painting depicts the tortures specially reserved in hell for the musician. In the seventeenth century a general destruction jol, all m usica l instruments was ordained, and even at the present day, no instruments are used in the Russian Church service. Many people attribute the wonderful sonority of the Russian voices, and their » See pages 54, 55. THE MUSICAL AWAKENING IN RUSSIA 9 remarkable ability of retaining the pitch, to this invariable custom of unaccompanied vocal singing. In the eighteenth century, both the Czarina Anne and the Czarina Elizabeth were keen music- lovers, but it was only the foreign musicians who were encouraged by them. The first attempts at operas with Russian subjects and written in the Russian spirit were made by Khatchin (his Tanioucha was produced in 1756), Fomin (Aniouta in 1772 and The Miller in 1779), Matinsky {Gostiny Dvor, " the Market-place "), Cavos, and Titoff. Cavos was a Venetian who settled in Russia for forty-five years (1795 to 1840) and caught the Slav spirit to a remarkable extent. Then came Vertovsky's Askold (1835) and other pieces. These tentative efforts were brought to a head by Glinka's Idje for the Czar in 1836. This opera was the foundation-stone of Russian music. After it, two courses only were open to the Russian composers — either a complete severance from the foreign art in style and matter, or else a spiritual change of the contents in the foreign moulds. After the manner of revolutions, the more violent course was at first adopted. Glinka set the ball rolling, but he was not strong enough nor were the circumstances sufficiently favourable for a complete departure. Before his time nothing but Italian music (and that in its decline) had entered Russia. All other European music was a closed book to them. When exotic influences did finally enter Russia it was chiefly through the Romanticists — Weber, Berlioz, and Liszt. When Glinka visited Berlin in 10 SCRIABIN 1832 and heard Weber's Freischutz, he was abso- lutely stunned; and when, a few days later, he witnessed Beethoven's Fidelia, his lot was cast. In his own operas, Weberian influences contihually crop up ; but this is all the more excusable when we remember the spell which Weber threw even over Berlioz and Wagner. Weber's love of Oriental subjects would have a special appeal for Glinka, who, in his first opera, was twenty-five years ahead of Wagner in his Rienzi. When the French master Berlioz visited Petrograd and Moscow in 1847, he was fgted like a monarch. The Russian school owes an incalculable debt to this remarkable genius, especially in the development of orchestration. Still more do they owe to that great reformer of musical construction — Franz Liszt — the creator of the modern symphonic style. From him they learnt richness of harmony, deftness in handling themes, and sonority of orchestral timbre. We will break off our operatic story, to notice a fact of great importance to our study of Scriabin. In 1804 Clementi, the famous pianist and piano manu- facturer, brought with him to Petrograd from his London piano warehouse a pale melancholy Irish youth, awkward and shy, to "show off" his pianos to the fashionable Russian nobles and ladies. John Field, for that was his name, |»layed the Fugues of Bach and Handel to them in a remarkable way, and so great an impression did he make in the Northern capital that he soon discovered he could THE MUSICAL AWAKENING IN RUSSIA II do something better there than " show off pianos." Consequently, when Clementi left he settled down in Petrograd and became the fashionable teacher, pianist, and composer. His compositions number 7 Concertos,^ a Quintet and Rondo for Piano and Strings, some Variations on a Russian air for four hands, 4 Sonatas, a Fantasy on a Polish theme, a Scotch Rondo, Two English Airs varied, and 20 Nocturnes. He was the veritable inventor of the Nocturne. In these Poesies intimes of such simple charm and naive grace we find the very essence of Chopin's idylls and eclogues ; and from Chopin the mantle fell directly on to the shoulders of Scriabin. In the notice on Field in Grove's Dictionary, Mr. Dann- reuther writes : " Both as a composer and as a player, Chopin, and with him all modern pianists, are deeply indebted to Field. The form of Chopin's Nocturnes, the kind of emotion embodied therein, the type of melody and its graceful embellishments, the peculiar, waving accompaniments in widespread chords with their vaguely prolonged sound resting on the pedals, all this and much more we owe to Field." Field stayed in Petrograd nearly twenty years, and then went on to Moscow, where he was even more successful. There he died, and was buried in January, 1837. Here in Field, the Irish- man, we find indeed a powerful exotic influence transplanted for good into Russian music. In opera, however, the national tendency became 1 One of the Coneertos (the 5th) is entitled " L'incendie par I'orage." 12 SCRIABIN very marked. Glinka's work was carried on by Dargomijsky — a. great Russian reformer of dramatic musical declamation. His aims reached far beyond those of Wagner, approximating closely to those of Debussy's Pelleas et MMisande twenty years later. His music is simple, sober, and direcf, and follows the text with remarkable closeness and fidehty. Moreover, he did not use a specially prepared libretto, but took Pushkin's prose as it stood. His orchestration too could be very picturesque on occasion (see his tone-poem Baba J ago), and he raised the national dance, the Kosatchok, to an artistic realisation. After him came that remarkable Petrograd group known as " the Five " : Borodin, Cui, BalakirefE , Mussorgsky, and Rimsky - Korsakoff. They aimed at, and indeed achieved, the estabUsh- ment of the opera built up on the foundation so well laid by Glinka and Dargomijsky, and they transferred the musical freedom thus gained into absolute music. The style and traditions of the Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven forms were reso- lutely cast off. The work was of immense importance to Russian music. Later on Rimsky-Korsakoff seceded from the group when he felt that the isolation of national music might be carried too far. The Petrograd Conservatoire of Music was founded in 1861 by Anton Rubinstein, who remained its Principal for nine years. At first thoroughly eclectic, it gradually came under the influence of " the Five." Rimsky-Korsakoff was appointed th: rsicAL awakening in Russia 13 Professor in 1871, and Asanchevsky, one of Mus- sorgsky's earliest musical friends, became Principal in 1874. The work there has now become more eclectic again, and numbers of magnificently equipped pianists and composers leave its portals crowned with their medals. At Moscow things have always been much more eclectic. Influences come continually from all quarters, from the East as well as from the West. The Moscow Conservatoire of Music was founded in 1864 by Nicholas Rubinstein, and its ideal has always been much more cosmopolitan. Tchaikovsky — a truly eclectic musician — ^became Principal in 1876. Taneieff followed, and Safonoff succeeded him in 1889, and retired in 1906. The present Principal is Ivanoff-Ippolitoff. The Moscow group of composers has always been a brilliant one, including such musicians as Arensky, Conus, Rach- maninoff, Glifere, Ilyinsky, Kalinikoff, Kashkin, Koreschenko, Siloti, Sokoloff, and Spendiaroff. Opinions are much divided on the question of Nationalism in Music and its foundation on the Folk-song ; but the history of musical art teaches us that music is a universal art, and that whilst it gains much by reverting from time to time to the original stock, yet it cannot isolate itself for long without an irreparable loss to itself. At first sight, many people may not hear the national strain in the music of Scriabin, for he is singularly free from idiom. But if the following sketch does not succeed in revealing ample evidences of this *' strangely un- known people with their incredible other-worldliness, 14 SCRIABIN their broad tolerant charity, their freedom from chilly conventions, their joyous neglect of the hustle and fussiness of Western life, their deep faith, their child-like superstitions, and the glorious promise of their future," it will be the fault of the hastiness of my sketch ; for it is all clearly stamped on his life and works. Ill THE EXPOSITION : SCRIABIN S PARENTAGE AND CHILDHOOD Moscow at the end of 1871 was little different from the Moscow of to-day, and was, in all external aspects, practically the same picturesque capital of Oriental design and grandeur which Napoleon viewed from the Sparrow Hills in 1812. The tourist arriving at the Smolensky Terminus in Moscow at the present day, after driving through the picturesque quarters in the neighbourhood of theTriumphalnaya, the crude log cottages surrounded by gay gardens, and the wood and plaster houses bright with white, blue, yellow, and pink walls, with roofs of dark green and deep crimson, and then through the winding Tverskaya, its thick-walled habitations fairly bristling with great overhanging spouts, may be a little disappointed as he comes out on the modern up-to-date shops in the Nikolskaya and the fashionable hotels of the Grand Square. But let him wander for half a minute down the Ilyinka, and he will find himself again amongst these quaint alleys and courtyards of old Moscow ; and in the middle too of a veritable babel of Eastern tongues, for these are the old street markets 15 l6 SCRIABIN (Gostiny Dvor) which continue right up to and round the walls of the entire Kitai Gorod. Or let him take but a few steps westwards, and pass through the Triotsky Vorot {Trinity Gate) into the marvellous Kremlin itself — and he has stepped straight out of the twentieth century into the Middle Ages. No ; other cities give way to progress and modern ideas, but Moscow the Golden, the Mother of the mighty Russian race, appears to go on for ever. On the evening of Christmas Day, 1871, in Moscow, with the thermometer at 14° below zero, things looked particularly cheerless out in the long, crooked streets, covered with a deep sn ow. Th e thousands of beHs so busy and joyous dfingtheu morning had ceased their glad tidings. The reddened sun, which had only shown itself for a few hours in the leaden sky, had suddenly disappeared. The cold atmosphere seemed scarcely yet to have settled down after such an unwonted agitation, even in this the "city of bells." Great snowflakes were still slowly and steadily floating down to earth. The quaint, almost bizarre outlines of the city, all covered with the enfolding mantle of snow, assumed as the great quiet of evening came on a feeling of weirdness and unreality. The homeward-bound traveller, dashing along silently in his fashionable troika, found his mind, like hi^s body, becoming more and more benumbed with some undefinable sense of melancholy in the overhanging gloom. scriabin's parentage and childhood 17 It was only when some huge oaken door was flung open suddenly or a dvornik flashed his lantern across a storied courtyard, that the least suggestion of the universal cheerfulness and joyfulness of Christmas festivities and gladness was confirmed. Then the flying traveller caught sight of cosy fire- settles and domestic circles, hardly suspected under so forhidding and cold a covering. Particularly in one home was there an atmosphere of unusual excitement and emotional glow. Bustle and hilarity were everywhere in this house. A queer lop-sided mansion of considerable size, evidently very old, it nestled in snowy hoods of irregular outline under the shadows of the massive towers of the Pokrovsky Barracks on the Kjnriakoff estate.^ The homestead belonged to Alexander Ivanovitch Scriabin, who came of an old aristocratic Russian family ; aristocratic because in Russia this goes entirely by military rank, not as in England by civic titles, and Alexander Ivanovitch Scriabin had been a Colonel for many years in the army. At his house on this Christmas night there was a full family gathering of six sons and one daughter. Something more than ordinary Christmas happiness and joy of family union was here ; for the son Nicolas, a newly-fledged young lawyer from Saratoff, had brought his young wife to his parents' home for the Christmas holidays ; and there at two o'clock in the afternoon of this very Christmas Day a son had been born to them. No wonder the pleasant kindly face of the young newly-dubbed " Aunt * This estate no longer exists. l8 SCRIABIN Luboff "^ was aglow with excitement. The happy father was receiving congratulations and toasts were going all round. The grandfather's soldierly instincts had been gratified by his eldest son following a military career. He was indeed attached to the neighbour- ing military settlement as tutor ; and so his second son Nicolas had been allowed to take a course of Jurisprudence at the Moscow University. Whilst still in his studentship he has met, admired, and lovjid a brilliant young pianist from Petrograd — Luboff Petrovna Stchetinin by name. Marriage followed closely on the heels of love ; students' classes, and even " prospects " must wait. " They are always there," as the Russians say. The eager couple did not number forty years between them. The young pianist continued her classes at the Petrograd Conservatoire of Music, under the famous Leschetizsky,^ and received in due time the Artistes' Gold Medal. Her husband meanwhile finished his jurisprudence at the University, and then the couple had settled down at Saratoff, where the husband opened practice as a lawyer, the wife continuing her musical work. Saratoff (Tartar for " yellow sand ") is the largest city on the Volga, which is there two miles broad, and although five hundred miles from the mouth the river is already at sea-level. The population is ''■ * Luboff, a favourite Christian name in Russia. English — Ixive. ' Leschetizsky was bom of Polish parents in Lemberg in 1830^ He was Professor at the Petrograd Conservatoire for many yeais, retiring in 1878. scriabin's parentage and childhood 19 an exceedingly varied one. Tartars jostle with Kalmucks and Cossacks from the Don and Kirghiz, with long flowing chapans, caught up with silk or leather girdles and round, pointed hats, add striking picturesque notes to the scene. There were too even then a large number of prosperous German colonies and a small English one. In 1871 the young married couple had gone to spend Christmas with the older Scriabin family, who lived at Moscow, and here on this bleak Christmas Day of 1871 the future musical composer, Alexander Nicolas, was born, as we have narrated. We can deduce no hard-and-fast rule defining the value of genealogy in art. The fathers of Handel and Rubens were both lawyers; Shakespeare's father and Dvorak's father were both butchers ; the father of Michelangelo was Governor of the Castle of Capressi ; whilst Mendelssohn's father was a wealthy banker, and Beethoven's a poor tenor singer in the Electoral Chapel at Bonn. On the other hand, John Sebastian Bach, Mozart, and our own Samuel Wesley all came of notable musical parentage. The composer Scriabin's genealogy shows no marked musical traits on the male side ; but although we know little about the Stchetinin family, it is obvious that the young mother possessed very unusual musical endowments and abilities. Alas ; six months after the birth of the son destined to such great musical fame, ]the young mother developed an ominous cough. Tuberculosis was diagnosed. Undaunted, however, Luboff continued her musical 20 SCRIABIN activities in preparation for her concert work, her husband having again entered the Petrograd University. The illness, however, became more disquieting, and in September of the same year it was necessary for her to be taken abroad. They went to Arco, a small town beautifully situated on Lake Guarda, in the South Tjnrol. Despite tlie excellent climate and all attention, the illness grew apace, and terminated fatally in April, 1873. They buried her there in Arco. Such a disaster — one of the most terrible tragedies which can befall a man — can only be met, if at all, by a complete breaking with the old life. The newly-fledged lawyer retmned to Petrograd, broke off his University studies, and determined on Consulate work in the East. He entered the Institute of Eastern Languages, and studied hard for two years, when he received his first post as dragoman (official interpreter and assistant consul) at the Russian Consulate in Constantinople. But so indefatigable a worker was not destined to remain long in any one post. He was soon appointed Consulate-Secretary at Betoly — then Vice-Consul, later on Consul, and finally he received the appoint- ment of Chief Consul at Erzeroum. Erzeroum was, and still is, a fortified city of great strength in Asiatic Turkey ; it has a large Moslem and Armenian population of about 50,000. It is about midway between the Russian border and the River Euphrates, being 355 miles from Tortum Lake. It was captured by the Russians in 1829, but given back to Turkey a few months later by SCRIABIN S PARENTAGE AND CHILDHOOD 21 the Peace of Adrianople. During the war in 1877 it was unsuccessfully stormed, but came into Russian occupation the following year. It was shortly after this that Nicolas Scriabin was ap- pointed. The post was doubtless an important one. The trade amounted to about £400,000 a year, exporting wheat, skins, furs, and tobacco. There were several European Consulates resident, also a Pasha, an Armenian Patriarch, and a Greek Bishop. At the very moment of writing (February, 1916), news comes that this great fortress has again fallen into the hands of the Russians (for the third time, for it had been ceded back to the Turks by the Treaty of Berlin). Although possessing a healthy climate, an atmosphere generally dry, and a splendid water supply, even at the present day the city has the imenviable reputation of being the most insanitary town in that most insanitary of countries — ^Armenia. Nicolas Scriabin retired from the Russian Con- sulate there in the " 'eighties " ; and, having had enough of life in the East, settled down at Lausanne, in Switzerland, where his son frequently visited him. He died there on December 24, 1914, only four months before the sudden death of the com- poser. / To return to the Scriabins at Moscow in 1872 — owing to the unsettled position of the bereaved husband, the motherless babe was first taken into 22 SCRIABIN his uncle's house at Moscow; and when three years old, he was removed to his grandmother's, where from this time all supervision of his education was undertaken by his maiden aunt, Luboff Alexandre vna Scriabin. Her tender care was the subject of the most touching affection on the part of the composer throughout his life. Early signs of the young Alexander's unusual musical endowments were not slow in revealing themselves. When only five years old he would extemporise on the piano, though it was some time before he could write rriusic. His acute ear and his musical memory were astonishing. A single hearing of any piece was sufficient to enable him to sit down and reproduce it exactly on the piano. In 1877, during the Russo-Turkish War, when the Ismailovsky Guards Regiment was leaving for the seat of war, the young boy was taken to the station to see his uncle off with the rest of the Guards. During the entraining, the band played a Quadrille, then very popular, called " The Snow-storm." On his return home, the five-year-old musician played the piece through on the piano from memory froin beginning to end, greatly to the amazement of the family. Later on, when he heard his foster- mother play a Gavotte^ by Bach, and the Gondolier's Song* by Mendelssohn, young Alexander, then a boy of eight, immediately sat down and reproduced them without a mistake. » Probably one from the French Suites. Aunt Lubofi must have been a well-taught pianist. " Songs without Words. Book I, No. 6. scriabin's parentage and childhood 23 From his earliest age he showed an independent and inventive turn of mind, always disliking to imitate or copy anything exactly, but much pre- ferring to take his own initiative. With him, no incentive to study was needed, for he was never happy unless he was doing something. Once, on seeing embroidery being done, he also wished to do some; and when canvas, thread, and frame were given to him he ignored the marked patterns and boldly worked out his own design. From the age of eight years he composed a few simple pieces, and also developed a strong love for poetry, writing many short poems himself. He also amused himself a good deal by cutting things out of wood, and this inventive pastime even extended to the making of miniature pianos, in ^hich he was particularly successful. From a very early age his relatives took him frequently to the Imperial Moscow Opera House. Here from time to time he would hear some of the chief operas of the newly-formed Russian School — Glinka, Mussorgsky, Cui, Borodin — and the early works of Wagner. More frequently, as in the England of the " 'eighties," the Italian composers would occupy the stage— Rossini, Donizetti, Bellini — ^with occasional performances of the French composers Gounod and Bizet's works.^ 1 Of late years the repertoire has been much enlarged. The Imperial Opera House in the season 1912-13 recorded 176 performances of 22 various operas, 11 by Russian composers (120 performances), and 11 by foreigners (56 performances). Tchaikovsky was the first on the list", as his operas were per- formed 32 times, and his ballets 15 times. The number of presentations by other composers was as follows : Rimsky- 24 SCRIABIN The Imperial Opera House in Moscow is next to La Scala at Milan, the largest in the world. It has always possessed an excellent Chorus and Orchestra, and in addition to giving Grand Opera, also presents that special Russian form of art, the " ballet " — a combination of the finest music, dancing, and mimique. As at Petirograd every employe in the Opera is a Government employe and qualifies for a Government pension. It is the same with the Imperial Theatre of Drama. In Russia, actors and singers are rightly considered part of the national system of education.^ The army officers receive special benefits at the Opera Houses. At the Opera the elder Scriabin noticed that the young boy's ears were always much more occupied with the magical sounds of the orchestra than his eyes were concerned with the happenings on the sta,ge. This tendency explains why, despite the preponderance of the operatic influence in Moscow, Scriabin developed entirely on non-operatic lines. Korsakoff 27 ; Glinka 22 ; Mussorgsky 16 ; Kubinstein 17 ; Thomas 15 ; Gounod 12 ; Wagner 11 ; Bizet 9 ; Rachmaninoff 8 ; Verdi 6 ; Dargomisky 4 ; Massenet 3. Zimin's Opera Company gave in the same season 265 per- formances of 31 operas, of which 15 were by Russian composers, 138 times, and 17 by foreigners, performed 133 times. Tchai- kovsky was the most favoured as his operas were given 54 times. The number of operas by other composers was as follows : Rimsky-Korsakoff 49 ; Puccini 29 ; Verdi 21 ; Nougues 21 ; Bizet 19 ; Rubinstein 17 ; Leoncavallo 14 ; Strauss 10 ; R6bikoff 7 ; Gounod 5 ; Mascagni 5 ; GretchaninoS 4 ; Mussorgsky and Lortzing, Massenet, D'Albert, 3 each. * At the time of writing (February, 19x6) the English Treasury has just withdrawn the whole of its insignificant grant to special musical training, amounting to about as much as the cost of the single firing of a gun of one of our big Dreadnoughts. scriabin's parentage and childhood 25 He was destined to be the composer of that purest form of music — instrumental music freed from all trammels of action, scenery, and even of words. ^ He wrote no vocal music at all.^ A purely dramatic turn, however, obsessed him in these early years. Thus, when a miniature folding theatre was bought for him, he scorned the idea of following the printed directions and would have naught to do with the given play, but staged his own pieces, dramatising in his own free way whatever stories he had been reading. One of his favourites was Gogul's " The Nose."* Nor did he stop here. He even wrote whole tragedies himself in prose and in poetry. Like another illustrious composer,* in his keen desire for the quintessence of drama, he had frequently^illed off all his characters by the time he had reached the third act. " Aimtie," he would exclaim, " I've no characters left to go on with." When thus occupied he would lose himself entirely, first jumping about and declaiming with outstretched arms, then sitting down and writing further. Scriabin's early education seems to have been * Later on, as we shall see, he attempted the unheard-of conjunction of colours, and even proposed odours. ; ' Excepting the " Choral Epilogue " to his First Symphony and the ad lib. Chorus parts to Prometheus, where the singers merely vocalise, however. ' Nicolas Gogul, the great national story writer, a brilliant satirist, " the Russian Dickens," was bom in 1798. Gogul's influence on Russian musicians has been paramount. Glinka, SerofE, Mussorgsky, SolobiefE, Stchurovsky, Tchaikovsjsy, Rimsky- Korsakoff, all wrote operas ba^ed on his fantastic stories. Glazimonofi wrote a Symphonic Prelude " In Memory of Gogul " in igog. * Richard Wagner. 26 SCRIABIN much on the same lines as that of the little Tchai- kovsky. In both, the stimulation of the imagination and the feeling for original creative work played a great part. In the middle and upper classes in Russia, owing to the constant intercourse between the children and the grown-up people, mental interests grow at a very early age.^ These con- ditions of home life have a twofold result. On the one hand, a considerable amount of good accrues m the acquisition of knowledge itself and in the development of an impressionable nature ; and on thfe other hand, the physical well-being often suffers. No Russian child of twelve would be satis- fied with the little picture-books and stories (chiefly humorous) which are printed for English nurseries. He wants serious books and — novels. Some such criticism might perhaps be levelled at the system of young Scriabin's upbringing. Certainly « * he ended in being a " thorough-going mystic." But his foster-parents cannot be said to have played any further part in influencing so obviously gifted a nature beyond giving his obvious inventive and musical gifts every opportunity of development. Except too for his sudden fatal malady Scriabin never suffered any serious illness. The father paid regular visits, in his vacations from his Consular duties at Betoly (and later on from Erzeroum) to see his little son at Moscow. There is a portrait of the father and son together taken in > See N. Jarintzoff, Russia: The Country of Extremes (1914). scriabin's parentage and childhood 27 1883 on one of these occasions. The father, well built, very upright but rather under average stature, black hair, high forehead, small nose, lips a little full, chin firm but not protruding, a look of assur- ance and trustworthiness about the countenance. The son, a youth of eleven years, very proud of his new cadet's uniform, epaulettes, breast-chain, and belt. He had just been admitted into the Cadet's School attached to the military establishment at Podrovsky in the outskirts of the city, where one of his uncles was a tutor. In appearance the boy favours the father, who is there seated* with the boy's hand placed affectionately on his shoulder. These Russian people know how to love well, and they know how to, sustain parting. I can well imagine the picture was taken just before one of the many dreaded leave-takings prior to the father's return to his duties in the East. Sweet remem- brances of past good times and hopes of more in the time to come help the boy to show a brave face to the future. So I read the young firm face. And there was always dear Aunt Luboff to go to for encouragement, for the boy seems to have been the dearest thing in her life. Then a time arrives when her watchful education and tender care must give way to sterner tasks and harder ways — to tutors, to school routine, and to the healthy stimulus of boy companions of his own age. IV FIRST SUBJECT : SCRIABIN'S STUDENTSHIP " The boy is father of the man." In Russia, national service claims every man at any rate for some period of his life. In most cases education takes a special bent (especially if it is of military description) at an earlier age than in other countries. The Government offers to take charge of the sons of officers from the age of ten, to feed, clothe, and house them gratuitously. This con- tinues until they are ready for the junkers' school, which corresponds to our Sandhurst. In his tenth year, then, young Scriabin was placed in the 2nd Moscow Army Cadet Corps. Alexander did brilliantly at the Entrance Examination. He did not " live in " with the rest of the students, but remained at the house of his uncle, who was a tutor to the Corps. The youngster soon succeeded in winning the sympathy of teachers and students alike, and became a great favourite with his young com- panions, who would gather around to hear him play pieces on the piano, or recite some poetical effusion of his own. Though he seems to have had no leaning towards the science of war, he remained in the Cadet Corps for nearly nine years. All this 28 scriabin's studentship 29 time his musical talent was developing rapidly. His first piano lessons were taken privately from Professor G. A. Conus, and later on from Zvierieff, whilst musical theory was studied with the Prin- cipal, Taneieff. G. A. Conus was a Professor of Theory, Harmony and Orchestration, as well as of Pianoforte Playing at the Moscow Conservatoire, but ZvieriefE was the Principal Professor of Piano Playing (Rachmaninoff was one of his pupils). Taneieff followed Tchaikovsky as Principal of the Conservatoire in 1882. At that time Scriabin's foster-parents lived in a house in Zlatoustihsky Court. Hither Taneieff him- self would often accompany the young boy home, for he was not allowed to go, about alone. The streets of Moscow are literally overrun by the diminutive open cabs called droshkys, which go everywhere, even into the narrowest alleys. The driver— the isvostshik — ^belojigs to a class which outvies the old London " cabby " in humour, care- lessness, and irresponsibility. Moreover, even at the present day no police regulations prevail over these fiery Jehus, who swoop down on you at every cornfer. Once when going over the Kouznetz Bridge alone, 'yoiing Scriabin was knocked down by a droshky, arid his right collar-bone was broken.^ Throughout the period of his convalescence, Alex- ander practised on the piano with his left hand alone. ^ ' Eugen Gunst in the Russian Journal Rampa and Theezn (Body and Soul) in 1914. ' This period of left-liand development may account in some measure for the extraordinary difficulty of the left-hand parts in many of his pieces. Certainly it explains the Op. 9, Two Pieces for Left Hand alone. 30 SCRIABIN His passion for music seems to have gradually ousted his miUtary studies, for the yotmg boy composed day and night. Whilst domg so, he never liked to be left alone in the room, but always begged his fond aunt to sit up with him. She often re- mained thus with him far into the night. Private music lessons no longer sufficed for his needs. Whilst still continuing the Cadet courses, he was now fully entered as a student at the Moscow Conservatoire of Music. He studied in the Piano- ^ forte class of Vassily Iva;novitch Safonoff, and in the Counterpoint class under Tajieieff.^ It is time now to study the training for which the Moscow Music Conseirvatoire has long been justly famous. From 1885 TaneiefE was Principal, but he resigned the Directorship in 1889 in favour of Safonoff. Taneieff, however, still continued his classes there. Composition and Counterpoint beipg his favourite subjects. The influence of this fine, broad-minded man, of such splendid and sound musicianship, on Scriabin was of inestimable benefit. Exceedingly modest by natiure, a born teacher and a composer of great merit, Taneieff attracted to his cosy little house at Klin, in Demianovo, a large number of pupils ; and many musicians and com- posers of great fame visited him there. His Manual '■ Sergius Ivanovitch TaneiefE was born in 1856 in the govern- ment of Vladimir. At the age of ten he entered the Moscow Conservatoire as a student under Lander. At the advice of Nicolas Rubinstein, he continued there under Hubert and Tchaikovsky. He took the Gold Medal for Piano-playing, and toured as .a pianist. Tchaikovsky, having failed to induce Rimsky-Korsakofi to undertake the Directorship, offered it to Taneieff, even serving under him on the staff for a time. SERGIUS IVANOVITCH TANEIEFF (SCRIABIN'S TUTOR) SCRIABIN S STUDENTSHIP 31 of Counterpoint, published in 1896, demonstrates his remarkable system of teaching Counterpoint by means of algebraical symbols. He takes Leonardo da Vinci's motto as the keystone for his work : Nissuna humana investigatione si po dimandare vera scientia, s'essa non passu per le mattematiche dimostrationi^ This conjunction of musical Counterpoint with Mathematics seems all the more remarkable when we find his pupil Scriabin combining musical art with Physical Science (see Chapter IX). He drew his examples from Palestrina, Josquin des Pres, Lassus, Willaert, Obrecht, and Morales ; and his own examples are not only full of ingenuity, but, not- withstanding their mathematical correctness, possess also a distinct musical poetry. It is so easy to call him dry for this view ; but his works, although "all founded on the Western classical masters, reveal an originality and a musicality which should give him a high place amongst composers. His instru- mentation is masterly and he made use of many new effects ; he has a way of building up his choruses too in remarkable contrapimtal com- binations. We find in his music many significant indications of his pupil Scriabin's orchestral style. Taneieff wrote four Symphonies but only one (Op. 12, the last), in C minor and major, is published (Belaieff, 1901). This shows him to be a profound admirer of Beethoven and a " stickler " for musical form and construction. There are two features in ' Leonardo da Vinci: Libera di pittura. Parte prima, § i. 32 SCRIABIN this Symphony which evidently impressed Scriabin, for he used them in his Second Symphony (composed shortly after it) and later on in his Third, The Divine Poem. One is a little quaver figure on the violins ; the other, a fine suggestion of Soaring by broad, rising curves of melody on the strings. There is too in this Symphony that clever unification of the movements by derivation, which we find in Scriabin, Taneieff wrote much fine Chamber Music also. His Ten Songs, Op. 26 (1909) and his Seven Songs, Op. 30 (1912), to Russian words, it is true, do not rise to a high level ; they closely resemble Weingartner's German songs. His Overture to Orestes, Op. 6, however, reveals a fine dramatic power. His large and very valuable library would doubtless be open to young Scriabin.^ Scriabin was equally fortunate in his pianoforte teacher. Safonoff's fame as a conductor is world- wide. He has always been a musician of marvellous insight and great executive gifts ; an artist of great ideals and a man of large humanity and fine linguistic gifts. I remember meeting liim on his first visit -to England. He was entertained at a civic function, and after dinner he gave his first speech in English — ^an address of great power — on the Power of Music in life. It was given in fault- less, flowing English with great dramatic power and eloquence. If Scriabin did not derive his own high ideals from Safonoff, he must have felt himself repeatedly confirmed and strengthened in them by ' Taneiefi died on June 6, 1915 (New Style, June 19). scriabin's studentship 33 regular contact with suclTa man. Safonoff was the son of a Russian general, and was born in 1852 in the Northern Caucasus. * After finishing a Covuse of Jurisprudence at the Alexandrovsky Lyc^e, Petrograd, during which period he studied with Leschetizsky, he threw up law for music in 1826. Having studied musical theory privately under Sieke and Zaremba, he entered the Petrograd Conservatoire in 1878, studying the piano under Louis Brassin. The 'Cellist, Carl Davidoff, who was then Principal, gave him a Piano Sub-Professorship. In 1885 Tchaikovsky appointed him Chief Professor of Pianoforte Playing at the Moscow Conservatoire. He succeeded Taneieff there as Principal in i88g, but resigned in 1906 to take up a post in New York. After some years Taneieff relinquished his tutorial work in order to devote himself entirely to com- position. Scriabin was then removed to Arensky's class. Anton Stefanovitch Arensky was born at Nijni Novgorod in 1861. He died prematurely when on a holiday at Terioky in Finland. He studied first at Rousseau's Music School at Petro- grad, under Zieke, and then at the age of 18, with Rimsky-Korsakoff and Johansen at the Petrograd Conservatoire. In 1882 his Piano Concerto, Op. 2, and his First S3miphony, Op. 4, met with a great success, and in the salme year he was appointed to the Moscow Conservatoire as Professor of Harmony and Counterpoint. He founded his musical style * At Istchory, a picturesque village on the swiftly flowing river Terek. 34 SCRIABIN very largely an Tchaikovsky and indulged very freely in 5-4 time. He was ten years the senior of Scriabin, but like many other masters of a future famous composer he does not seem to have appre- ciated the gifts and possibilities of young Scriabin at all. Far from encouraging, he failed to find in his brilliant pupil any justification for following the career of a composer. ^ Alexander left Arensky's class at the end of the term in disgust. Probably Arensky wanted to " put him back too far." At any rate negotiations were completely broken off. Scriabin concluded his pianoforte classes with Safonoff in 1891. But the last term at his beloved Conservatoire was by no means fruitless ; for it was there he met the great patron, and publisher of music, Belaieff, and a friendship with him began then, whidi lasted until the publisher's death. Mitrophari Petrovitch Belaieff was born at Petro- grad in 1836. He was attracted to n^usic from his earliest years ; but it was not until he was nearly fifty years of age that he devoted himself entirely to music publishing. He died on January 4, 1904, leaving many well-endowed musical institutions and the famous " Belaieff Edition," which is devoted entirely to Russian composers. He pub- lished the whole of Scriabin's Symphonies as they were written, had Pianoforte arrangements made from the full scores, and issued no less than two- thirds of the whole of Scriabin's pianoforte com- positions. He assisted Scriabin also by arranging concert-tours and in numberless other ways. WhUst 1 Verdi suffered a similar discouragement. VASSILY ILYITCH SAFONOFF (CONDUCTOR OF SCRIABIN'S SYMPHONIES) PJwto by Histed] SCRIABIN S STUDENTSHIP 35 at the Conservatoire, Scriabin had pubUshed a few pieces with Jurgenson the Moscow publisher : Op. 1. Waltz in F minor. , 2. {a) £tude. ^ ^ '^'i ■• -■" (6) Prelude. (c) Impromptu d la Mazur. 3. Ten Mazurkas (2 Books). They probably belong to the days of the Cadet School. They are entirely Chopinesque in feeling and in style, but the left hand is already busy with Scriabinesque stretching, there is a fondness for tenor counter-melodies and a finished style of harmony and phrasing. The Prelude, Op. 2 (6), in B,^ is a little gem — ^just sixteen bars in all ; it is one of the most charming miniatures in the whole range of music. In the third Opus there are more evidences ol originality : and the pieces are so highly finished and really artistic that it is difficult to realise that they are the work of a youth of seven- teen. Ah-eady he is seeking a greater sonority, the left-hand chords reach a twelfth in width. The first piece in the second book is one of the sunniest little works in the whole of Scriabin's output. In his search for light, he goes right to the very top of the keyboard. The dreamy Chopin-like episodes are' still in evidence. The spirit of Tchaikovsky creeps into the last piece of this set, in which a chiming as of a high bell is mingled with a deep tolling in the bass. • This is transcribed for the Organ in my Russian Organ Album (Augener). 36 SCRIABIN Opus 4, Allegro Appassionata, full of deep Brahm- sian brooding, with a vigorous cross-phrased arpeggio in the bass, and Opus 5, Two Nocturnes, also belong to the early days at the Conservatoire, although not pubhshed till 1894 by Belaieft. There have recently come to light three 'un- numbered Compositions : Fantasia for piano and orchestra Five-part fugue for Piano Nocturne in A flat belonging to the same early period. The first two were found at Professor Rozenoff's of the Moscow Conservatoire, a fellow student with Scriabin there in the. early days. The Nocturne was discovered at L. SabaniefE's, «ad dates from the autiomn of 1886. I hope no attempt will be made to publish them. The Fantasia is only in the form of a transcription for two pianos ; the Fugue is evidently a school work, whilst the Nocturne cannot now add any- thing to the lustre of the composer. With regard to the fondness of Chopin and later on of Scriabin, for the Nocturne form, it is a com- forting thought to remember that an Englishman, John Field, was the inventor of it. His pieces are probably not sufficiently well known in England on account of his having spent the greater part of his life in Petrograd. But Field's personal con- nection with Russian music was closer even than this ; for the future founder of Russian national SCRIABIN S STUDENTSHIP 37 Opera, Glinka, was brought to him as a boy for lessons, and when Field left Petrograd for Moscow he passed yoiing Glinka over to his favourite pupil Obmana. So that we see the Anglo-Russian musical entente is no new thing. DEVELOPMENT : A MAN WITH AN IDEA " A prophet is not without honour save in his own country." Matt. xiii. 57. Scriabin's music-classes at the Conservatoire terminated in 1891. His Cadet education was completed a little earlier. And now he felt himself free to follow the career of a pianist and composer, with a strong inclination towards this latter solely. Although he received his entire schooling in the Cadet Corps, there seems to have been no question of his adopting a military career. His foster-parents seemed to have taken for granted all along that music was to be his life's work, and to have done everything to help in this direction. The old prejudice against a musical life which was such a barrier to the older Russian composers had now passed away. Tchai- kovsky was thwarted in every way in adopting music until he was thirty years old, and that fine musical genius Cesar Cui all through his life followed the dual profession of music and military engineer- ing. Cui was a great authority on fortifications, and nimibered amongst his pupils, the present Czar and General Skobeleff. . . . Then, too, the growing acceptance of Russian music in France and the Netherlands, in England and America impressed 38 A MAN WITH AN IDEA 39 the Russian intelligentsia very much. In Brussels and Paris the Countess Mercy Argenteau carried on a strenuous campaign on its behalf. But it was the meeting with the fine-spirited publisher BelaiefE which formed the real opening- out point in Scriabin's career. Belaieff had immedi- ately recognised the fine genius of the young musician, and constituted himself his sole pub- lisher under a favourable pecuniary arrangement which placed Scriabin in a fairly easy position right up to the time of Belaieff's death in 1892. Belaieff's first step was to organise a European tour for the young pianist. This included Amsterdam, Brussels, the Hague, Paris, and Berlin. The twenty-year-old composer, who appeared only in his own com- positions on this tour, was received favourably everywhere. The pieces which he played were the First Sonata, Op. 6, the Allegro Appas- sionata, Op. 4, and a few smaller pieces. On his return to Russia he played his own works at concerts in Moscow, Petrograd, and many other cities. The following five years — 1893 to 1897 — ^were occupied in concert, tours, holiday-travels, and composition. The last two seemed to have been always connected in his work, for he drew his inspiration from Nature more perhaps than any other musician since the time of Beethoven and Brahms. His highly sensitive and impressionable mind responded easily to the appeal of Nature, especially in her summer garb ; and his very first orchestral composition — a Reverie for Orchestra in E 40 SCRIABIN — is evidently a summer meditation in the country. He was very responsive to this mood, and twice reproduced it again later on in important composi- tions — in his First Symphony (2nd movement) and in his Second (3rd movement). The young Russian does not incline much to sports and athletics, and has few hobbies, other than indoor amusements. With Scriabin, it was chess in the winter. For the rest, music seems to have been his sole hobby and the most engrossing thing in life. I do not think that he was ever a great reader, except of that greatest book of all— Nature her- self. He was passionately fond of the country, of flowers, and of travelling. His favourite costume in the summer was an English-looking lounge suit, a large flowing art tie, a broad-spreading panama hat, and — button shoes. The prevailing note of the costume was a refined ease. And the creations of these five easy years were : Op. 6. First Sonata. 7. Two Impromptus. 8. Twelve Etudes. 9. Prelude and Nocturne {for left hand only), 10. Two Impromptus. 11. Twenty-four Preludes. 12. Two Impromptus. 13. Six Preludes. 14. Two Impromptus. 15. Five Preludes. 16. Five Preludes, ly. Seven Preludes, A MAN WITH AN IDEA 4t Op. i8. Allegro de Concert. 19. Second Sonata. 20. Pianoforte Concerto. 21. Polonaise in B flat minor. 22. Four Preludes. 24. Third Sonata. 25. Nine Mazurkas. 26. First Symphony. This is a pretty good list — five large works and some eighty smaller ones. The First Symphony (E major) was produced at one of the Belaieff Russian Symphony Concerts given by the I.R.M.O. {Imperatorskoe Russisky Musikalne Obsfchestivo — the Imperial Russian Musical Society), under the baton of Safonoff, Principal of the Conservatoire.' This Symphony is in six movements — a. meditative Lento, an Allegro dramatico with some fine "string" work, a Vivace in 9-8, an Allegro in E minor, arid a Choral Epilogue and Fugue " In Praise of Art." Although so early a production, with shadows of- Dvorak and Tchaikovsky passing over it, it is nevertheless a masterly work of great beauty. The basses have frequent melodies of great beauty, but the Choral Fugue smells too much of the Academy. The work was well received. Strange to say Arensky disliked it, and once, whilst arguing about Scriabin, exclaimed that it was quite evident that " anyone who praised this Symphony knew nothing at all about music." Such an attitude is incom- prehensible. But it was only the beginning of a 42 SCRIABIN slowly built up and formidable opposition to Scriabin in Moscow, an opposition which lasted more or less right up to his death. Did Arensky resent the precocity of this young composer who dared to begin where Beethoven had left oH.- — with a Choral Symphony ? Or was there something of progressiveness and impatience for authority and routine in Scriabin's nature which aggravated the more conservative minds ? Quite probably. SafonofE says that Scriabin, in his youth at any rate, was a man of extremes. Once just before they had parted for the holidays he had told him that his pianoforte " touch " was equal to all ethereal and tender effects, but that it wanted deepening. When, after the vacation, Scriabin came back to the Conservatoire, and struck a few chords on the pianoforte, it was like " two orchestras backed by a thunderstorm." ..." Good heavens, my dear boy, what have you been doing ? " SafonofE ex- claimed. " Well, you told me to deepen my touch," Scriabin answered, rather aggrieved. '. . . But by blending these extremes, Scriabin became at maturity one of the most perfectly equipped pianists ever heard. He could do anything with his instrument, and his pedalisation was something of a miracle. In 1897 he was offered the post of Professor of Piano Playing at his alma mater — and accepted. It was a mistake. There is in the artistic nature — whether of a creative or an interpretive cast of mind — as a rule, a distinct aversion to pedagogic duties. Doubtless Scriabin felt a Uttle proper pride in A MAN WItH AN IDEA 43 following such men as Nicolas Rubinstein (the founder), Zverieff, Arensky, and Safonoff. Perhaps too as a " free lance " he missed the Academic support of his compositions and his public appear- ances. Or it may have been even more practical considerations which led him to this step ; for about this time he married a young and brilliant Russian pianist ; and everyone knows that matrimony brings one more closely into touch with practical con- siderations. Be that as it may, these six years of tutorial work at the Conservatoire were " very lean years " in musical compositions. The only works dating from this period are : Op. 27. Two Preludes. 28. Fantasia in B minor. 29. Second Symphony. The marriage, too, did not prove ideal ; and was dissolved later — probably by mutual consent. Marriage is a great lottery, and those happily mated are the most ready to let their sympathy flow out to those less fortunate. The Second Sonata was begun in 1892, but the 2nd (final) movement was not finished until later on. The Pianoforte Concerto is one of his most popular works, whilst his Third Sonata is now a piano classic. The Second Symphony was first produced in Moscow by the I.R.M.O. orchestra, under the expressive hands of Safonoff. It seems strange to look back now and find that even at that early stage, Scriabin was regarded as a dangerous 44 SCRIASIN revolutionary in music. The S5Tiiphony is in five movements, the first {Andante) supplying the material for the fifth {Maestoso, an Epilogue in C major). The three middle ones are an Allegro, an Andante (really Adagio), and a Tempestuoso which runs into the Epilogue. The orchestra, a very moderate one, is deftly handled, and there is a homogeneity in handling the themes as well as in their conception. Moreover, as in all Scriabin's works, the subjects themselves are very striking. Particularly noticeable are the beautiful singing bass parts. Yet at the orchestral rehearsals, the players were strongly biassed against the work, some almost to the point of refusing to play in it. But this was nothing to the opposition of a certain clique at the Concert who disttobed the performance by howls of derision, whistling, and cat-calls. It was but the experience of Monteverde, Gluck, Handel, Beethoven and Wagner over again. ^ Incredible as it may seem now, the Second S3Tnphony of Scriabin appeared to them so unusual and so " ultra-modern " that it brought forth an outburst of indignation from the audience. And now this work is in the classic repertoire of all our Symphony Concerts. Even the smaller piano com- positions of this period were received with per- plexity when they were first played at the Kerzensky Circle. * I myself once hooted Stravinsky's Rite of Springtime; and now, looking coolly back, I am inclined to think my resent- ment was based on my outraged pride at not being able to understand the work fuUy. A MAN WITH AN IDEA 45 From this time there began at Moscow 9. " dead- set " against, the composer, and all through his Hfe he underwent in his native city a strenuous perse- cution on the part of his more active opponents, and a cool indifference on the part of others. Academic people regarded Scriabin with ilervous- ness. " What will he do next ? " they seem to have been continually thinking. At Moscow, the pro- fessionals ranged themselves against him, and the public, not able to understand his works, either followed their lead, or ignored him altogether. But Scriabin was not without enthusiastic friends. All his life he had the faculty of drawing round him keen appreci,ators and supporters : Belaieff, Kusse- vitsky, Safonoff, Gunst, Conus, Sabaneieff — ^these make a goodly list which was continually "being increased. All the early orchestral works of Scriabin — the Reverie, the Concerto, the First and Second Sym- phonies, and the Poem of Ecstasy — were first pro- duced by Safonoff. In 1889 this conductor in- augurated a series of popular Concerts at moderate prices in a disused circus in Moscow. In 1890 he was appointed conductor of the Moscow branch'of the I.R.M.O. He occupied this post for sixteen years, leaving the Moscow Orchestra and the Principalship of the Conservatoire in 1906 to take up the post of permanent Conductor of the New York Philharmonic Society. His renderings are characterised by great lucidity, intellectual grasp, and a full-blooded warmth, and he has specialised on Tchaikovsky's and Scriabin's orchestral works, 46 SCRIABIN As time went on Scriabin found his pedagogid^ duties seriously clogging his creative work, and early in 1903, after six years of tutorial work at the Gjnservatoire, he followed Taneieff's lead and resigned his post in order to devote himself entirely to musical composition! This year proved to be one of the most fertile periods of Scriabin's life. In the summer alone he finished his Third Symphony {The Divine Poem), and wrote his Fourth Sonata, his Tragedy, and his Poeme Satanique, and some forty other pieces. All these belong to his middle style — the transition period. The greater part of 1904 was spent in Beatten- berg, a delightful spot near Geneva. In the winter Scriabin went to Paris, where his Divine Poem {Third Symphony^ was brought to a first hearing under Arthur Nikisch^ on May 29, 1905 (N.S.). The Symphony, thus first produced abroad, was later on well received in Moscow, to which city the composer did not return, however, for seven years. The nomenclature of the Third Symphony {The Divine Poem), with its three movements headed Luttes (Strife), Voluptes (Sensuous Joys), and Jeu divin (Divine Activity), calls for some remark; and • Arthur Nikisch was bom in Hungary in 1855. He studied at the Vienna Conservatoire with the violin as his principal study. He afterwards received appointments as conductor at various Austrian and German cities. In 1889 he took up the conductor- ship of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, remaining there for four years, when he returned as Director of the Bnda-Pesth Opera House. In igo6 he held the posts of conductor of Leipzig Gewandhaus Concerts and of the Berlin Philharmonic Society. He has travelled widely as a " star-conductor." A MAN WITH AN IDEA 47 it is just at this juncture that so little first-hand information is forthcoming. Scriabin left Moscow in 1903, and with the exception of long periodic returns to Beattenberg in Switzerland, and a two years' sojourn in Brussels, was ■ a bird of passage and a holiday wanderer for many years. Being of a very reserved nature, he became, as years went on, more and more detached, isolated, and self-centred in his music. He toured widely, visiting all the chief European cities from time to time, and travelling where his fancy led him; but in general, like Brahms, he loved most to live in beautiful climes and to spend much of his time in self-communion and meditation. Since the religious enfranchisement in Russia many new cults have arisen there. Amongst these, Theosophy has been much favomred amongst the intelligentsia, especially in Moscow and Charkoff. People seem to be experiencing a desire for a greater spirituality than is afforded by the older forms. Scriabin's music appears to have joined issue with Theosophy as a convenient peg to hang his music on. The peg has very little concern with the garment which hangs on it, and I am inclined to think it is so with Scriabin's Theosophy and his music. Of course I am not doubting for one moment Scriabin's single-mindedness in this practice, for sincerity was one of the dominant notes of his character. Most composers at some time or other feel the need of some system of aesthetics or some explanation (even tabulation) of those special moods which return upon them from time to time 48 SCRIABIN and are reflected in their music — the contemplation mood, the exalted one, the pastoral vein, the exhilaration of life, and so on. We are told that Scriabin's Theosophy grew out of his music. I can imagine rather that when Scriabin encountered Theosophy he immediately embraced a system which harmonised so well with his prevailing musical moods. I do not think, however, we ought to judge Theosophy by his music ; or his music by Theosophy. We shall discuss this matter further in a later chapter. This Third Symphony is a magnificent com- position, written on the soundest of classical lines, on a musical architecture approximating closely to that of C&ar Franck in his Quintet, his Quartet, and other works. That is, it laas a Prologue which contains the basic idea of the work, and which runs through all the other movements in addition to and in connection with their usual theme. Scriabin regards this leading motive as his Divine Theme, and most of the other subjects are derived from it. There is no doubt that the unusual labelling of his movements in his Symphonies perplexed many people, and consequently often aroused ire. But the movements of this Sjonphony by any other names would sound as sweet ; indeed, after reading the irausual titles, I confess on the first hearing to a little disappointment at the absolute orthodoxy of the music. But I did not know then that, titles or no titles, Scriabin is the real composer of Absolute Music (as opposed to Programme Music) and a Classicist at heart. A MAN WITH AN IDEA 49 The Symphony, with its noble themes and its brilliant orchestration, had a great success at Paris — that city which has always been drawn so enthusiastically to Russian music . Tchaikovsky was well known and loved by them fifteen years before we became acquainted with him in England or America., Scriabin spent the winter 1905-6 in a villa on the outskirts of Genoa. He left it in February for Geneva, where he lived until December 2. He then embarked on a tour in the United States, playing in New York, Chicago, Washing- ton, Cinciimati, Detroit, and other cities with great success. Shortly after his return to Paris his Second Symphony and his Pianoforte Concerto were given at Diageli^'s^ Symphony Concerts there, the solo part in the Concerto being played by Mr. Josef Hoffman. This famous ^anist was bom at Cracow in 1877. His. father was the chief conductor at the Warsaw Opera House and a Professor at the Warsaw Conservatoire. Josef studied under his father for several years, and finally with Rubinstein (1892-4), after which he made a world tour as a juvenile prodigy. He was wisely withdrawn from the platform for several years, and has now developed into one of the finest exponents of modem piano playing, with a special turn for the orchestral * DiageliefE is a Russian conductor who made world tours with a Russian Opera and Ballet troupe, and who also frequently conducted concerts of Russian orchestral music in various large cities in Europe and America. 50 SCRIABIN development of pianoforte tone. He is a special favourite in Paris as in Moscow, and has always been an enthusiastic propagator and exponent of Scriabin's music. Scriabin spent the summer of 1907 at Beatten- berg on the lovely shores of Geneva. The works which date from this period are — Op. 44. Two Poems, 45. Three Morceaux. 46. Scherzo. 47. Quasi-Valse. 48. Four Preludes. 49. Three Morceaux {Etude, Prelude, Reverie). 51. Four Pieces. 52. Three Pieces. They are all of exquisite beauty ; and although founded on the older harmonic lines, have ample evidence of a distinct advance on any of the pre- ceding great composers. Opus 50 is not forth- coming ; perhaps it was lost. He spent the winter at his father's house in Lausaime. The Ex-Consul of Erzeroura had retired to this lovely spot some years before. There the composer finished his orchestral piece, The Poem of Ecstasy, in January, 1908. No sooner was this completed than he set to and wrote the Fifth Piano Sonata — in the incredibly short space of three or four days. These two remarkable works are closely related in conception and in style; Together they represent perhaps better than any A MAN WITH AN IDEA 51 other the boundary line between his older style and his new. The summer of 1908 was spent at Biarritz, and in September he went to Brussels, in which city he domiciled for two years. There his masterpiece Prometheus was conceived and the greater part of it written. Although I can find little exact information about the circumstances which drew him and held him in this beautiful city, yet it is reasonable to infer that a special sympathy, not to say influence, was instrumental in his choice of this brilliant capital for a residence. At that time Brussels, more than any other European city (not even excepting Paris), had some exceptionally brilliant coteries of artists, thinkers, and musicians — men whose minds were seriously drawn to a possible close coimection between the Sciences and the Arts, and even Philosophy and Religion. The brilliant Jean Delville had just brought out, in 1900, his study and meditation on The Mission of Art. This series of essays impatiently throwing aside the old shackles which impeded conventional art was yet at the opposite pole to the crude, barbarous works of the French Fauvists, Cubists, and the like, to the. German Realists or the noisy Florentine Academy. It was Delville, one of the leaders of this Theosophist cult in Brussels, who drew the design for the cover of Scriabin's Prome- theus copies. In the preface to Delville's book, Edward Schure writes : " See here the book of a true young man ; the act of a thinker, of an artist, and of a seer, a 52 SCRIABIN witness to science, enthusiasm, and faith." We find Delville writing thus : " It is wise to meditate frequently in an epoch such as ours where the most unshapely works pass as arch-types of the so-called ' free ' styles. Art and literature have lost the sense of the divine. One knows only too well the artistic decadence brought about through the negligence or the poverty of these artists wfthout design ; and if ugliness has replaced beauty in art nowadays, it is because art has lost the abstract and vital sense of Form. The Line, is it not the basis of all architecture, of all statuary ? The Line in all the objects of Nature that is the Signature of God " (p, 47). One cannot read this without remembering Scriabin's absolute mastery and reverence for form and clearness of construction in music. More than any other master, he uses the clean-cut four- bar phrase, almost invariably in fact. Nor can we fail to notice the influence of the great Belgian poets, Maeterlinck, and also of Verhaeren, one of the editors of L' Art Moderne, whose poems seem to have so close an affinity to the later Sonatas of Scriabin. The Brussels of 1908 was indeed brilliantly repre- sented in Science, Art, and Philosophy, and certainly no less in Music. The Opera-house apart — itself one of the best equipped and most modern in Europe — there was an imusually large number of brilliant artistes : Eugene Ysaye. the great violinist ; Paul Gilson, the illustrious composer of the opera Francesca da Rimini and author of one of the finest A MAN WITH AN IDEA 53 works on the modern orchestra ; that refined musical theorist, Emile d'Ergo, whose Dans les Propylees de I' instrumentation is a wonder-work ; those brilliant experimenters, Robert Mahrhofer, author of The Psychology of Tone-Colours, F. A. Gevaert, part author of The Musical Problem of Aristotle: and many other keen musical philo- sophers ja acoustics and especially in orchestral tone-colour. One of the Professors at the Con- servatoire there illustrated a lecture of his by having the whole of the iiitact score of a Mozartean Symphony played solely by instruments of the clarinet family. Moreover, there were here in Brussels some of the most superb orchestras in the world ; and the ^ Brussellaise, always the most generous of people, opened their arms freely to artists and composers from all quarters. Even a little of the best English music arrived there, though unknown in France, Germany, or Russia.^ More- over, Brussels has always led the van in its timely welcome of Russian music. Enough has been said to explain the attraction which this eminently artistic city exerted over Scriabin. He abode there two years, and he there met his second wife. The actual compositions of his sojourn in Brussels are not great in number ; but the inclusion of his great tone-poem Prometheus makes up the sum-total in bulk and importance ; and the other ' Emil Cooper (the Russianised English Conductor), however, has recently given Elgar's Falsfaff and Wallace's Villon in Moscow, 54 SCRIABIN pieces constitute some of his most characteristic works : Op. 56. Four Pieces {Prelude, Ironies, Nuances, Etude). 57. Two Pieces {Desir, Car esse dansee). 58. Feuillet d' Album (for the New Russian Album). 59. Two Pieces {Poem, Prelude). 60. " Prometheus " {Orchestral Poem). It was in 1909 that he paid a flying visit from his Brussels home to Moscow to take part in a concert arranged there in his honour. The Russian Imperial Musical Society gave his Third Symphony (The Divine Poem) at one of their Symphony Concerts, and also the new Poem of Ecstasy, the latter for the first time' in public. Safonoff was the conductor, and Scriabin played his own Fifth Sonata. He made an entirely successful appearance on this occasion, which was, however, slightly dis- counted by a hostile attack from the chief music- critic of the Russkoye Slovo (Russian Word), a leading Moscow "daily," who rained abuse on Scriabin's mystic titles, even likening them to " beer- bottle labels," When this attack fell to the ground harmlessly, he accused the author of L'Ecstasy of deliberately, ignoring " all that nationally Russian undpng art created by Glinka, Borodin, and Rimsky-Korsakoff," and described Scriabin's music as " the outcome of all that was worst in Wagner and Strauss." In other words, Scriabin was "a A MAN WITH AN IDEA 55 Germanophile in the worst sense of the terni and a wilful scorner of Russian culture." AH this of course was very childish, and moreover it was not " criti- cism." A young reviewer on the same paper wrote glowing accounts of Scriabin's works, especially with regard to the piano pieces which Scriabin rendered at the concerts in Sokolnikpff. There were other mementoes of this visit to his native city, however, which served to mitigate the Russian Word critic's spiteful attack. One was the bestowal of a " Glinka prize " on the Poem of Ecstasy. Some years before, Belaieff, the music publisher, had founded an endowed Annual Award " In Memory of Glinka " for the encouragement of Russian musical composers. In December of this year (1908) the awards were particularly interest- ing : 1st Prize (1000 roubles). Sergius Rachmaninoff for his Symphony. 2nd Prize (700 roubles). Alexander Scriabin for Poem of Ecstasy. 3rd Prize (500 roubles). Alexander SpendiarofE for The Three Palm Trees. 4th Prize (500 roubles). Sergius Taneieff for his Pianoforte Trio. Sergius Vassilivitch Rachmaninoff (of C sharp minor Prelude fame) was a fellow-student with Scriabin at the Moscow Conservatoire. He was born in the government of Nijni Novgorod in 1873, and studied at Moscow with Zviereff , Siloti (his kinsman); Taneieff, and Arensky. His style is somewhat 56 SCRIABIN. conventional, and obviously founded largely on Taneieff's and Arensky's, but he has great musical gifts, ease in coniposition, and a clearness of musical diction which renders his music very taking and popular. His Symphony is a long work on classical lines, more than twice the duration of Scriabin's L'Ecstasy, which plays for twenty minutes or so. Spendiaroff's piece was an orchestral tone-poem of an Oriental character, based on a poem of Pushkin. It was first performed in Moscow in December of the preceding year (1907) tmder the baton of Glazounoff. Taneieff was the tutor of all the other three prize winners. ^He excels in chamber music. His style, however, is very scholastic and intellectual in type. His Trio was first performed in January, 1908. Doubtless the followers of Rachmaninoff's some- what facile art could hardly be keen appreciators of Scriabin's music; but despite a certain hostile camp, Scriabin was becoming more and more firmly established as a composer in his native land. His performances in Russia were always successful and well received on the part of the public. Scriabin returned to Brussels, and settled down again to work at his great orchestral work Prome- theus, which he did not actually complete till the following year, when the Scriabins left Brussels and settled in Moscow in the quiet little Tolstovsky A MAN WITH AN IDEA 57 Street. Scriabin was heartily welcomed by his friend Kussevitzsky, the famous conductor ; and many of the younger professors at the Conservatoire r£i,llied round hijn, notably the pianists : Eugen Gunst, an enthusiastic advocate of Scriabin, and Leon Sabaneieff and Leon Conus, son of the old professor. .Kussevitzsky invited Scriabin to accom- pany him on his first Volga tour (1910), an offer which the composer accepted gladly. Sergius Alexandrovitch Kussevitzsky is one of the most prominent figures in Russian musical life. Born and educated , in Russia, a student at the Moscow Conservatoire, he travelled widely, but finally settled down with Moscow as a centre. He began his career as a double-bass player, having a remarkable technique and a peculiarly poetic tone. Later on he was drawn to conducting, and organised Sjrmphony Concerts, founding his own orchestra (with a chorus for use in symphonic works) in 1911. His Moscow Symphony Concerts are repeated a week later in Petrograd, Kussevitzsky taking his whole orchestra with him. He has performed a very special work for Russian music by establishing a special music publishing business in Moscow, ^ with branches at Petrograd and Berlin. This affords Russian composers a particularly generous profit for their works. He was the first in Russia to organise musical festivals devoted to a single com- poser : to Bach, to Beethoven, and to Tchaikovsky. In 1910 he commenced the vast undertaking of' taking his whole orchestra up and down the Volga 1 Russian Music Publishing Society. See p. 278. 58 SCRIABIN on a specially chartered steamboat, playing the great musical masterpieces at the various cities en route — at Novgorod, Charkoff, Saratoff, Odessa, and other cities. On this first Volga tour, Scriabin played his early Piano Concerto and other pieces of his own music VI coda: the last years ScRiABiN returned to Moscow very pleased with the Kussevitzsky Volga tour (1910). But he returned to a Moscow groaning under a stifling heat. In summer the city becomes intolerable with the glare of the sim, the noises of vehicles over the cobbled streets, and the odious smells inseparable appar- ently from manufacture in large cities. Scriabin, following his usual custom, retreated to the country, this time to the Mark estate in the Savelovsky Railway. He did not return to Moscow till the winter. On March 2, 1911, Prometheus : the Poem of Fire was brought to a first hearing. This was given at one of Kussevitzsky' s Sjonphony Concerts at Moscow, and Scriabin himself took the pianoforte part in it. One was not surprised to read in the Russian papers that opinions were much divided over this extremely advanced work. The spring of 1 91 1 was spent at his most favoured retreat — Beattenberg, on Lake Geneva. Here he finished his Sixth and Seventh Sonatas and made sketches for another, which appears later on as the Ninth. Why such beautiful surroundings should inspire such gloomy works as the Sixth and Seventh Sonatas perhaps only a Theosophist can tell. A visit to 59 6o SCRIABIN Brussels followed, and after a six weeks' sojourn in this city, he toured through Holland with the conductor Mengelburg,. who produced many of Scriabin's orchestral works, the new Prometheus figuring on every programme. The tour, which included Amsterdam, the Hague, Haarlem, and even extended to Frankfurt-on-Maine, was one long triumph for Scriabin. He returned to Russia and spent the late summer and autumn on the Obrazchovo-Karpovo estate near the town of Kaskir. He made an extensive Russian tour in the' winter season 1911-12, and in April, 1912, took a house in the Great Nikolai Peskovsky Street in Arbatte, a suburb of Moscow. Here he composed his later pianoforte works : 66. Eighth Sonata ; 67. Two Preludes ; 69. Two Poems ; 70. Tenth Sonata ; and finished the Ninth Sonata, which he had sketched out in Switzerland in the preceding year. At the beginning of 1914 he visited London for the first time, and was much impressed by the English people. On March 14 his Prometheus was produced at the Queen's Hall, under Sir Henry Wood. He also played in his Pianoforte Concerto on that occasion. The Prometheus had been given in London the previous year, on which occasion (January 2, 1913) it was played twice over by ALEXANDER SCRIABIN (1911) THE LAST YEARS 6l special request, with the idea that a second hearing would make the work more easily intelligible. The Queen's Hall Programme on this occasion was : 1. Symphony No. 8 {Beethoven). 2. Piano Concerto in F sharp minor, Op. 20 {ScriaUn). 3. Tone Poem "Prometheus," Op. 60 {Scriahin). 4. Tone Poem " Tod und Verkldrung " {Strauss). 5. Overture " Meistersinger" {Wagner). Although Scriabin's appearance in his two works was a great silccess, it cannot be said that his Prometheus was widely understood, and the ad- vanced modernity of the work brought forth, even in enlightened London, a few vigorous marks of disapproval. The London season was an exception- ally full one that year, and it was characterised by an almost wild straining after the new at all costs in the arts, painting, literature, and music. The critics, already sated with the modernity of Mahler, the ultra-modernity of. Schonberg, and the freaks of the Cubists, were inclined to place Scriabin with the general mass of the " unintelligibles," and either condemned the work whole-heartedly or else con- fessed themselves mystified. I have expressed else- where the opinion that the works should be heard in historical order. The gradual and wonderful evolu- tion through which Scriabin's creations passed be- tween his early Cancerto, Op. 20, and his most advanced work Prometheus, explains and accounts for everything. It is necessary that the intervening 62 SCRIABIN works should be heard ; or at least something read about them. A. N. Briantchaninoff, a Russian critic, who was present at the Queen's Hall Concert, considers that the audience could not grasp the intention and inner meaning of Prometheus, which is " too far not only from Beethoven but also from Wagner." Though he himself has heard the tone-poem five times, there are still parts of it which he cannot endure, and he thinks that the audience shared his feelings of " infinite amazement, extreme nervous tension, and boundless enthusiasm for the ray of sunshine with which, at the very end, Scriabin pierces the gloomy mist of that undoubted work of genius." In spite of the ovation which Scriabin received (and music-lovers who have attended London concerts for thirty years do not remember such an ovation) it must be recognised, says Briantchaninoff, that the performance, " notwithstanding all the careful rehearsal, left much to be desired. There was no feeling of that subtle mysticism with which every phrase should be filled, in preparation for the apotheosis of the final theme. It was a conscien- tious, even a fine musical performance. But that is all ! " " Prometheus is far more than the ordinary tone- poem, and its inner meaning can only be deciphered by those >yho understand the composer's mystical temperament. Sir Henry Wood and his orchesti^ were not of that number, and therefore there was no ' inward fire ' in the rendering of the Poem THE LAST YEARS 63 of Fire." " From a purely musical point of view the Finale, which usually produces such an overwhelm- ing effect, was imperfect ; the bells were weak and there was no chorus at all. Those who heard Prometheus in Amsterdam last year, under Mendel- berg, when a chorus of five hundred took part in the Finale, will know how much the London performance lost in this respect. In justice to Wood, it should be stated that there appear to be no good choruses in London, and to get one together from the provinces for a single performance would cost over 2000 roubles, which is more than even the Queen's Hall could stand. ^ But, after such a memorable success, it is impossible to doubt that for the next season all the arrangements will be perfect. Scriabin has conquered London. It is difficult to overcome the English, but once they yield they dp so entirely, unconditionally, and there are no more steadfast enthusiasms than those of the English." Even the two beautiful Piano Recitals which Scriabin gave at the Bechstein Hall, although immensely appreciated by crowded audiences, did not make the deep impression they would certainly have done in a more normal season. Here are the Programmes. The E ^dX Mude, Op. 11, No. 14 appears on both Programmes. So too do the second and last numbers of Opus 8. Even so advanced a piece as ^trangeti was encored. ^ It is amusing to see ourselves as others see us. 64 SCRIABIN BECHSTEIN HALL MARCH 20Ta, 1914 PROGRAMME Op. II. Preludes . . C major, Op. 13 G sharp minor E minor C major ' C sharp minor E sharp minor E flat minor D major D minor Mazurkas . . E flat minor F sharp major Etudes . . . F sharp minor "1 A flat major VOp. 8. D sharp minor J II 3ME SoNATE . . F sharp minor, Op. 23. («) Allegro dramatico.. (6) Allegretto. (c) Andante. (d) Presto. Jop. PofeME . PoiME AlLE . DisiR £tranget1 Feuillet d 'Album PofeME Satanique III F sharp major. No. i. Op. 32. No. 3, Op. 51. Op. 57- Op. 63. Op. 59- Op. 36. THE LAST YEARS 65 BECHSTEIN HALL MARCH 26th, 1914 PROGRAMME Preludes Mazurkas Etudes B flat major) ^ jOp. 33. D flat major D minor] _, C minor! Op- ^7- E flat minor, Op. 11 B major G sharp minor G flat major Op. 16. E flat minor F sharp major F minor) ^ _ . [ Op. 25. E mmor) ^ F sharp minor C sharp minpr Op. 8. D sharp minor II SONATE FaNTAISIE . No. 2, Op. I9. (a) Andante. \b) Presto. Deux PoiMES PofeME . Masque . Prelude PofeME . SONATE . Ill F sharp major D major No, I, Op. 69. Op. 63. No. I, Op. 67. No. 2, Op. 69. No. 9, Op. 68. }0p. 32. 66 SCRIABIN Everyone was struck by what appeared to b^ almost a new kind of Pianism. His playing was so easy, so refined, quiet, and unassuming, yet so beautifully ethereal in the softest passages, so rich and organ-like in the mezzo parts, yet so satisfying in the fortissimi, and his " pedal " effects were quite magical in effect. It appeared as though this new music had brought along with it a new kind of playing. And so it has ! AH were unanimous in agreeing that his works had become much clearer under the composer's own interpretation, and Scriabin returned home to Moscow justifiably pleased with his London success, and furnished with invitations to revisit England in the following season 1 914-15, having been en- gaged to play at twelve concerts. . . . This second visit, alas, never took place. The European War broke out, and the London appearance in his Prometheus proved to be the composer's last visit abroad. Scriabin thought he had returned to an en- lightened Moscow, for during his eight years' sojourn abroad much had taken place in Russian science, art, and general enlightenment. Many progressive movements too had been opened up. A Modern Art Theatre had been founded in Moscow, the staging of which Gordon Craig considered to be second to none. Kommisarzhevskaia, the great actress, had experimented widely and liberally, and although she felt finally that her own peculiar art of acting was suffering in the process, still her influence on the Russian public has been immense. The THE LAST YEARS 67 French Impressionists too had made a definite mark on both Russian painting and music. But the old enmities arose afresh against Scriabin. The chief Reviewer of the Russian Word returned to his attacks on this great artist of such exquisite sen- sitiveness. Criticism with this reviewer was degraded to personal abuse, to long strings of epithets poured on the man who dared to think that art should ever advance beyond the canons on which the critic himself had been brought pp — and as for a new art- language, or a revived sense of hearing— to his mind anyone who ever asserted this, much less practised it — ^was consequently a charlatan and an impostor. . . . Good heavens ! why ? Only a press-man can say. ... It is always so. This summer of 1914 was spent in Moscow, where his Prometheus was down for its second performance in Moscow — this time by the Orchestra of the Imperial Russian Musical Society under Safonoff. But a very definite opposition was led by the critic already alluded to, who was one of the directors of these S3anphony Concerts; and his policy was carried — a policy which included the withdrawal of Prometheus, leaving only the early Concerto to represent Scriabin. The composer, who was to have appeared in both works at this Concert, withdrew altogether. Scriabin was oi^y experiencing the intrigues which have always beset great men — ^from Gluck, Mozart, Beethoven onwards. Mere "no- bodies" are set up against them in ridiculous 68 SCRIABIN competition, and too frequently the "nobodies" win— /or a time. And then the nobodies disappear — or are only remenibered with scorn. f Scriabin's almost super-sensitive nature must have felt this Moscow opposition keenly all through his career, for he loved his native city dearly ; he had manyfriends there, and despite all the opposition of the "routine followers " he had an ever-growing public of keen appreciators. The last ten piano- forte pieces : Op. 71. Deux Poemes 72. Vers la flamme {Potme) 73. (i) Guirlandes ; (ii) Flammes sombres 74. Cinq Preludes were written in the spring of 1914, a year before his death ; and in Op. 74, some of the harsh clashes of the materialistic world with the higher thoughts are painfully reflected. In the summer Scriabin gave himself up entirely to the realisation of his long- cherished project, the composition of a great art- work entitled Mystery. This was to be a creation involving the unification of all the arts in the service of one perfect religious Rite. The secondary arts were to enhance the dominating arts (those subject to the will-power). Symphonies of music, words, and mimique (gesture) were to be accom- panied by sjmiphonies of colour and perfume. Such a union already exists to some extent in religious rituals. With Scriabin the onlookers and listeners (the passively initiated) were 9,lso to participate in THE LAST YEARS 69 the manifestation of the creative spirit, just as much as the celebrants (or executants) of the Rite. In this proposed union of the arts, Scriabin's aim was to have been the production of an ecstatic state, affording a glimpse of higher spiritual planes. He wrote the first libretto for the Prologue^ in the summer, which was spent in the country near PodolsEy. Scriabin then set to work on the music for this Introduction and looked forward to. its completion by the Spring. ... In the winter season, 1914, Kussevitzsky gave the Divine Poem {Third Symphony) and the Poem of Ecstasy, and Scriabin himself gave several Piano Recitals of his own compositions to enthusiastic audiences. In August the great European War broke out. Austria declared war on Servia, Russia on Austria, Germany on Russia, France on Germany, and within a- few weeks, Belgium had been grossly trodden under foot, and England had joined against the Central Powers. The Russians twice went forward and backward over imf ortunate Poland, and Moscow became one great war depot. The whole aspect of the city was changed. All the eligible men were away at the front. Trains full of soldiers left Moscow day and night. The street tramcars were used for the wounded, and long strings of German prisoners were constantly being brought through on their way to the mines in Siberia. Scriabin was not one of those who regarded the 1 This was, however, entirely re-written by him in the following winter. 70 SCRIABIN war as an unmixed evil, but he likened it to the keen wind of Nature blowing through the world that those things which can be shaken — like materialism, intellectualism, and positivism— «hall be shaken, and things which cannot be shaken — like religion, love, and truth — shall remain. He expressed the view that the terrible troubles brought by the war would bring new life, new ideas, and a finer sensibility to the nations. In this he was singularly in accord with that fond lover of Russia, Mr. Stephen Graham, who writes thus in a recent book Russia and the World (Cassell) : " Away in the depths of man, and from deeper depths, proceeds the Almighty Voice, in whose fulfilment lies the destiny of Man and the destinies of men, and those who live in Com- munion know that the war is no calamity — no axe at the root, but the great storm wind of Autumn, which has blown, and will blow again, scattering the leaves and branches into the Death Kingdoms, bringing after it tears of rain, and sleep arid peace, and life again — new life." In a letter addressed by Scriabin to A. N. Briantchaninoff, and published in the Moscow musical journal, Mouzika, he writes : " I cannot refrain from expressing my sym- pathy with the views which you have expounded THE LAST YEARS 7I in the Novoye Zveno on the subject of the educational significance of war. " You have voiced an old idea of mine, that at certain times the ..masses urgently need to be shaken up, in order to purify the human organisa- tion and fit it for the reception of more delicate vibrations than those to which it has hitherto responded. " The history of races is the expression at the periphery of the development of a central idea, which comes to the meditating prophet and is felt by the creative artist, but is completely hidden from the masses. " The development of this idea is dependent upon the rhythm of the individual attainments, and the periodic accumulation of creative energy, acting at the periphery, produces the upheavals whereby the evolutionary movement of races is accomplished. These upheavals (cataclysms, catastrophes, wars, revolutions, etc.), in shaking the souls of men, open them to the reception of the idea hidden behind the outward happen- ings. " The circle is complete, and a stage of the journey is finished : something has been attained, the creative idea has made one more impression on matter. We are now living through just such a period of upheaval, and in my eyes it is an indication that once again an idea has matured and is eager to be incarnated. " And at such a time one wants to cry aloud to all who are capable of new conceptions, scientists. •J2 SCRIABIN and artists, who have hitherto held aloof from the common life, but who, in fact, are unconsciously creating history. The time has come to summon them to the construction of new forms, and the solution of new synthetic problems. These prob- lems are not yet fully recognised, but are dimly perceptible in the quest of complex experiences, in tendencies such as those manifested by artists to reimite arts which have hitherto been differen- tiated, to federate provinces heretofore entirely foreign to one another. The pubhc is particularly aroused by the performance of productions which have philosophic ideas as a basis, and combine the elements of various arts. Personally I was distinctly conscious of this at the fine rendering of Prometheus at the Queen's Hall, London. As I now reflect on the meaning of the war, I am inclined to attribute the public enthusiasm, which touched me so greatly at the time, not so much to the musical side of the work as to its combination of music and mysticism." Truly the idealist, not the practical man, speaks here. Was he right here as regards the English ? I have my doubts. The war notwithstanding, Scriabin fulfilled his Concert engagements, two in Moscow, one in Charkoff,^ and three in Petrograd. It was on this last visit to the Northern Capital that his friends noticed with concern that the composer was given to strange moods of depression. But when ques- • Pronounced Harkofi. THE LAST YEARS 73 tioned he could not account for it, but said that at times he experienced strange forebodings of some grave trouble overhanging him. His last Concert in Petrograd was on April 2, and was a brilliant success. No sooner had he returned to Moscow on Saturday, April 4, than the boil on his lip, from which he suffered so greatly when in London the preceding year and which had been cured by treatment, now appeared again and became exceedingly painful. As it did not im- prove with medical treatment he cancelled his Volga Concert Tour, which was to have commenced on April 14, 1915. On Tuesday, April 7, Scriabin stayed in bed all day but continued to compose. His temperature began to rise, reaching 40-4 Reamur (123° Fahrenheit). The boil on the lip developed into a carbuncle and blood poisoning set in. During one of his terrible paroxysms of pain, Scriabin's mind flew back to the English people. He would be " more self-possessed," he observed, " like the English." The case defied all medical attention, and it was obvious that things had taken a serious turn. The last rites of the ancient Russian Church were administered, and at five minutes past eight on Tuesday morning, April the 14th, Scriabin passed through that veil which hides the greatest of all the mysteries. No sooner was he dead, than the sad news, flash- ing all over the world, returned to Russia, and his countrymen, oblivious or antagonistic to him all 74 SCRIABIN his life, suddenly woke up to the fact that a really great man had passed away beyond their help, and a great national funeral was arranged. This is ever the reward which the world accords to its great men, whose work must be its own and its sole reward. Scriabin had passed away in the very prime of life, at the age of forty-three, leaving his great undertaking, the Mystery, unfinished. This work promised music on higher planes than those hitherto reached, — ^the opening of new worlds of beauty by the creation of a synthesis of the acoustic, the optical, the choregraphic, and the plastic arts united into one whole by a central mystic and religious idea. This great piece, though conceived throughout in the mind of its creator, was thus left scarcely begun — ^unfinished and un- finishable. • On the second day after his death the coffin was brought into the church near his house, and a night vigil was held before a large congregation. Special Anthems were sung by the famous Choir of Alex- ander Archangelsky. The Funeral Mass took place on April i6, when the famous choir of the Synod- College from the Kremlin, conducted by N. Danilin, sang the music. All the chief Russian musicians, artists, and singers were present. The priest made a touching narration. The funeral procession through the crowded streets was deeply impressive, the coffin being borne for the whole route by the composer's friends and fellow-musicians. A number THE LAST YEARS 75 of young people with linked hands made a chain along the procession, singing the great Russian Anthem for the dead. Eternal Peace to him. Go out to the Sparrow Hills after a shower of rain has cleared the air of the dust which is such a scourge to Moscow. A scene, like some multi- coloured and fantastic picture out of a fairy book, rises before you — Moscow with its hundreds of glittering domes and cupolas ; white walls everywhere, interspersed with restful green patches of foliage ; a mighty river trailing its way majestically through the picture with blissful unconcern for the city and its doings. Such was the Moscow which Napoleon saw from the hills in 1812 — ^the promised land which he did not enter. Such too is the picture seen to-day. Near at hand in the foreground stands an exceedingly picturesque Monastery, beautifully situated on the banks of the river. This imposing pile, known as the Devitschy Monastery, has a wonderful history. It was built in 1524 by the fraudulent Duke Vassily III (father of Ivan the Terrible) in commemoration of his conquest of Smolensk. When the grandson Feodor died, Feodor's widow, Irena, came here for shelter and refuge, and with her came her brother, Boris Godunoff. Boris schemed for and secured the kingdopi. Here Peter the Great incarcerated his masterful and rebellious sister Sophia. He lodged her in this Nunnery, had her hair shofn off, and she became Sister Susanna. 76 SCRIABIN The building almost perished in 1812, for Napoleon had it undermined, and the brave intrepid nuns only saved it at the risk of their lives. Part of this old fortress-monastery is now used as a Convent for Girls. In a beautiful cloister of this monastery in April, 1915, was seen a wonderful mound of flowers, sur- mounted by a cross. This is the grave of Alexander Scriabin, whom posterity will assuredly number amongst Russia's very greatest composers — one whom Russia often treated badly in his lifetime, but to whom she seems to have done ample justice in his burial by interring him in this beautiful maiden cloister. A sympathetic Moscow lady ended a monograph on the departed one at the time by quoting Tennyson : " O well for him whose will is strong ; He sufiers, but he will not suffer long ; He suffers, but he cannot suffer wrong." Immediately after his death his fame increased doubly. Memorial Concerts were given in many cities, and his worJts appeared in Concerts all over the globe. Especially remarkable was the cycle of orchestral Concerts organised in Moscow by the famous conductor Kussevitzsky, The first Concert THE LAST YEARS 77 took place on October 12, the programme of which was devoted entirely to Scriabin's works. The First Symphony was performed with a large chorus, the solo roles in the Hymn to Art being beautifully sung by Miss O. Pavlova (Contralto) and by Mr. J. Altschevsky (Tenor). The Third Symphony {The Divine Poem) received a magnificent per- formance. The solo part in the Scriabin Piano Concerto was played by Rachmaninoff. A series of Piano Recitals was also given, at which various Moscow pianists devoted themselves entirely to Scriabin's work. Nicolas Orloff played the early compositions. A. Borovsky included the melancholy Ninth Sonata in his programme, finishing with the Third, which, though also rather sad, ends with a joyful Finale. Constantine Igoumnoff, a Professor at the Conservatoire, gave the Second Sonata, whilst Alexander Goldenweiser played the mystic, celestial Tenth. At the closing concert of the series, Kussevitzsky conducted the Second Symphony, the Poem of Ecstasy and Prometheus. Kussevitzsky 's grasp of Scriabin's work is founded on a close friendship with the composer. He obtains a wonderful attack from his orchestra, and his renderings are character- ised by a remarkable fire and rh3^hmic flow. With him too, as with Scriabin, Art is no mere ornament — ^but a great and serious responsibility. It is comparatively easy to give a rough estimate of Scriabin's character as one reads it from his 78 SCRIABIN life's story and music. All his life he was a man of extremes, passionate and tender, impetuous and sensitive. His nature was very affectionate. He was deeply attached to his father, to his foster- mother, " dear Aunt Luboff," and more recently to the two young children he leaves behind. Such a nature is peculiarly sensitive to rebuff or imkindness, which his self-esteem as an artist did not allow him to show. There is no doubt that he, felt the opposition of his own country people in Moscow very keenly. Of a retiring dis- position like Brahms, with something of a taste for lonely meditation, he lived quietly away from the noisy crowd which were ever agog with greed of office or pecuniary emoluments. He loved small appreciative circles of specially gifted and sym- pathetic friends,^ rather than the loud applauding crowd with noisy hands. He was very fortunate with his friends, young and old, whom he never estranged. The gaudy opera had no attractions for him, and his highly original and imaginative cast of mind revolted against the dry routine of teaching and all that was humdrum and lifeless in conventional life. He was ever the fearless seeker after the inner truth, the brilliant discoverer of new untrodden ways. Even in his childhood, he always preferred his own method, however toilsome, to the generally accepted way. With great qualities of heart and mind, of a lovable disposition in general, he possessed an un- usually fine aesthetic sense ; that sense which we THE LAST YEARS 79 English people are so loth to trust. He was endowed with a wonderfully refined sense of hearing, never more highly developed ; he had also a marvellously retentive memory for music and great powers of assimilation. But perhaps the most outstanding feature to us is his absolute devotion to art, which with him was one with religion. Like his dear, simple, old master Taneieff he found the solution of his existence in life and work, in a blending of life, art, and religion into one. He would at once have agreed with Balfour in his Gifford lectures, where he remarks that all great art must be founded on some system of theism. The fact that never once did Scriabin follow the now almost universal custom of a super-inscribed dedication to some one or other with whom the composer is connected in an affectionate, sentimental, or alas even business- like way, is very significant. No star-conductor finds his name inscribed at the head of Scriabin Sjmiphonies as an inducement for him to cultivate the piece, nor even do any of the smaller pieces bear any of those sentimental dedications which form interesting human documents only in the case of a Beethoven. There is a story in England of a certain English Bishop who was asked to accept the dedication title of one of those millions of English banalities, commonly called Church Services, which every organist feels inspired (save the mark !) to write. His reply was enlightening. "Is it not already dedi- cated ? " 8o SCRIABIN With Scriabin right from his First Symphony — a Hymn of Art where the voices sing-^ " Pure symbols of the Living God, Sublimest art of Harmony, We raise our fervent hearts to Thee In wonder at thy melody," — right to his very last piece, all was dedicated to the simple duty of expressing the very best and highest aspirations in him. Even the dance- movements which he inherited from Chopin were turned in his later works into the general stream of praise and delight in creative life. As an artist he was exceptionally refined and detached, a passionate lover of the beautiful in everything, an ardent devotee of "line" and " design " in art. From the age of twenty-one, when he gradually freed himself from the musical influences which his marvellous powers of assimila- tion had grafted into his art, he was singularly detached in his artistic view of music. He appeared little interested in the music of others, and entirely wrapped up in his own fascinating ideas of the Unities and of the Ideal in art. I once knew an organist who told me he never went to hear other people play for " fear of contaminating his own style." I can well imagine that Scriabin often kept away from other music for fear of contaminating his own. On one occasion he was ignorantly accused by a leading Russian critic of being Germanophile. But where he was not Russian he was essentially French in sympathy, style, and in language. He spoke THE LAST YEARS 8l very little English, this fact itself being the mark of the Frenchman rather than of the German, who as a rule speaks it well. All his titles appear in French as well as in Russian, and only one has a German title. This is unusual even with the musical " Russian of the Russians." VII THE EARLY WORKS Beethoven strewed his wonderful works and thoughts over the whole collection of musical instruments in use at his time ; so too did Bach. Chopin confined himself solely to the piano ; whilst the orchestra and the piano alone occupied the attention of Scriabin, who wrote no vocal pieces at all. The small chorus roles in the first and last symphonic works hardly count in this connection. But whilst Scriabin was a wonderful master of orchestration, he cannot be said to have widened its scope to any great extent, as he certainly did with pianoforte technique. Himself a wonderful pianist, he was constantly pushing the limita- tions farther back, with his playing as with his composition. We cannot fail to notice this as we proceed. The first five Opus numbers need not concern us long. They were written during Scriabin's student- ship at the Moscow Conservatoire, and at once show us the great hold which the Polish composer Chopin exercised over the young Russian pianist. Valses, Etudes, Preludes, Mazurkas — all are clever 82 THE EARLY WORKS 83 andloriginal in melody, but everything is clearly seen through Chopin's mind. What a delightful little miniature that early Prelude in B major. Op. 2, No. 2, is ! I often play it on the organ. Just a couple of notes on the pedals is all that it requires. Op. 3 consists of Ten Mazurkas; they contain many original and piquant little touches. The Allegro Appassionata, Op. 4, shows what a command the young musician of seventeen already possessed over harmony and* form. The First Sonata, F minor, Op. 6, carries us a stage forward. The whole of Scriabin's art work is so perfectly evolutionary in character, in mastery of technique, in plasticity of musical structure, and in depth of expression, — ^that any attempt to divide his work into definite periods must be discountenanced. The off-handed saying of some ill-informed pro- fessional musicians that Scriabin had two styles — ^the old and the new — is misleading. Scriabin's final achievements, completely revolutionary in character as they appear when faced singly, were all approached through a perfectly natural and logical development. Once he had planted his feet on his own way — his own musical expression, he freed himself from the influences of the great men who had gone before. This took place about Op. 19 {Second Sonata), written in 1880 at the age of eighteen. From this point, free of all trammels, he started forth on the quest which called imperatively to him, and continued steadfastly to the end, never making any concession to the public. Some of our recent geniuses, after a 84 SCRIABIN wonderful development of modernity, have dropped back suddenly (as though appalled) to an earlier manner. This was impossible to such as Scriabin, who died in the full zenith of his powers in 1915. To those who feel somewhat lost among the four hundred odd pieces, large and small, which Scriabin contributed to instrumental music, I would offer the following rough divisions with considerable diffidence : 0pp. I to 18. The Apprenticeship works, but still worthy of full respect, since they are all highly finished pieces never betraying a " pren- * tice hand." 0pp. 19 to 40. {Second Sonata) to about Op. 50. These works show the full personality on the old lines. Opp 41 to 52. The Transition period. Works of wonderful beauty and inspira- tion. Opp. 53 to 74. The full consummation of Scria- bin's genius. To return to the First Sonata, which was written in Moscow in 1889, at the age of seventeen. It is Chopinesque in feeling, truly enough ; but there is a masterly stride in it which even the Polish com- THE EARLY WORKS 85 poser did not possess. It is the music of the Pole combined with the constructive perfection of Brahms. There are, however, many individual touches, and already we cannot fail to see that here is no ordinary musical talent (see Chapter X). After this Sonata come Preludes — Preludes — Preludes. In his later years he preferred the title Poem, for this only Prelude, Poem, or Sonata all mean very little. A Sonata may be anything ; so may a Poem or a Prelude. It is the contents which counts. To sum up these early pieces quite briefly there will be found in 0pp. 7 to 18 abundant material for the concert-room, for the salon, or for the study — a mass of music which will last many pianists the whole of their lives. Everyone should know these works. They are full of fancy, delight, and beauty. They contain reminiscences of gay times in Paris, Amsterdam, and Heidelberg — records of journeys ; Op. 11, Nos. 12, 17, 18, and 23 all written at Vitzau on Lake Lucerne in 1885 ; No. 14 at Dresden ; souvenirs of holidays in Kieff {1889), and experiments in all sorts of curious times and in unusual figuration. Dr. Terry thus describes the Twelve Etudes, Op. 8 : " No. I is Schumannesque, but with real fire and richness. No. 2 is certainly Chopin, but more incisively rhythmic ; quite straightforward and diatonic, with a striking pianissimo ending to its fiery vigour. No. 3 might be termed a ' Moto perpetuo,' its strong right-hand melody 86 SCRIABIN dominating the tempestuous triplet accom- paniment. No. 4 has a truly ravishing melody as Chopinesque as No. 2 in tonality and treatment, but with an individuality all its own. The exultant and confident freedom of No. 5 brings us to the rather uneventful No. 6, with its running sixths — perhaps more suggestive of Chopin than any of the others. No. 7 I do not find particularly interesting, but it is certainly not dull. To my mind the most interesting numbers are 9, 10, and 12. No. 8 is interesting and quite straight- forward ; the right-hand melody a little con- ventional, but its alternation with solemn chords (in the familiar style of a Chopin Nocturne) relieves it of monotony. It is in No. 9 that one first seems to get a glimpse of the later Scriabin. It opens with a fiery outburst as of one exulting in the pride of strength. The broadly tranquil opening of its second section is strongly sug- gestive of the slow stirring of a giant's limbs as he wakes refreshed, calmly exultant in his strength, passing swiftly to action like a young Siegfried, as the torrent of- life surges through his veins. The running thirds in No. 10 again recall Chopin, but the resistless energy of the whole piece carries one away. It quivers with the joy of life — the life of fresh winds and sun and sea. A more sober mood entered with the sonorous bass figure towards the very end. No. 11 is marked by a brooding tenderness that is never sombre, though the ' uneasy ' chords at the end create a certain atmosphere of apprehensiveness, THE EARLY WORKS 87 as though some sinister idea had obtruded itself. But it is in No. 12 that the sure grip of the com- poser comes out strongest. Broad and majestic in its opening phrases, it passes as swiftly through as many moods as No. 9, now surging passionately like a soul scaling celestial heights, now soaring in calm ecstasy on pinions of song. It is a fore- taste of that marvellous unveiling of a human soul which his later Sonatas show." Op. 9, Prelude and Nocturne for the Left Hand only, reminds us of the marvellous development of his left-hand part in all his keyboard music, and it also recalls the period in his early teens when a broken right shoulder-blade compelled him to prac- tise impatiently all his music with his left hand alone. I return to Dr. Terry's article in the Music Student for a description of Op. 11 l " These Twenty-four Preludes are all of them short, ten of surpassing beauty, and most of them a great advance on Op. 8. No. i is dainty and all too brief. No. 2 more pensive ; much of it is in the nature of a duet between the two hands, and the recurring right-hand figure is a thing of beauty. Nos. 3, 4, and 5 have great distinction ; the first is a Presto movement of ' Spinning- wheel ' type, and is perfectly exquisite ; the second foreshadows the deep brooding of later compositions ; slow and solemn, it speaks of perplexity, of puzzled expectancy. There is no 3 SCRIABIN Schumann or Chopin here ; he has found his own language. No. 5 somewhat resembles the pre- ceding one in mood but not in structure ; it has greater confidence and ends tranquilly ; again the melodic figure is perfect. No. 6 is impetuous, and strangely resembles Schuniann's well-known Novellette in D ; the rhythmic figures are quite as straightforward. No. 8 is very dainty, but bears little stamp of Scriabin's own personality ; it might easily pass for pure Chopin. " Nos. 9 and 10 stand out with a dignity all their own. The former opens with noble sim- plicity. It is full, rich, and warm-coloured, the sonorous left-hand figure contributing in no small degree to this effect. It is the perfect expression of the dignity of a strong and simple soul. No. 10 has all the sonprous breadth of its predecessor, but the mood becomes more intense ; it ends with simplicity and sombre pomp. No. 11 gives one the impression of a struggle for expression between Scriabin and Chopin, in which the former eventually obtains the mastery. No. 12 is all Scriabin ; one sees his grip of things tighten- ing. The hesitating pauses of the right hand give a curious impression of inconclusive re- flections. (This is a constantly recurring feature in Scriabin's later work.) No. 13 is a perfect little picture of tranquil musings ; not a note of it suggests Schumann, but the emotional effect, so far as the present writer is concerned, was strangely like that produced by his first hearing of Act III of Schumann's Faust (where ' Pater THE EARLY WORKS 89 Ecstaticus ' speaks). No. 14 is triumphant and masterful. Both in construction and effect it strongly suggests the Ride of the Valkyries. In this and also in the two following pieces one feels Scriabin has reached a higher plane of thought and expression than in any previous work. No. 15 seems to be asking a perpetual question — Where ? Whither ? — but it is all so sane and hopeful. In this, as in all Scriabin, I see nothing decadent or neurotic. No. i6 is marked ' Misterioso,' but I confess to finding less mystery about it than restrained sonority, and the glow of Oriental colouring. To me it came as the first piece of Scriabin where one could truly say, ' Here is the Slav.' An odd echo of the opening of Chopin's funeral march sounds like an intrusion. No. 17 is simple and undistinguished. No. 18 is rather savagely impetuous, quite pianistic, and suggests no particular train of thought. " No. 19 is a noble number indeed. There is at length that greater sonority and wealth of both rhythmic and harmonic material which dis- tinguishes the later Scriabin, but again we have those odd intrusions of Chopinesque turns of expression (both rhythmic and melodic). The Chopin idiom is being shaken off, but it still peeps in at odd moments. No. 20 suggests the mood of No. 18, in its strepitant opening, but it gradually subsides like a spent wave. It is a fine number, though very short. No. 21 is a melody in the right hand with arpeggio accompaniment in the left. The last traces of Schumann seem to go SCRIABIN be ebbing away here. It is a piece of sheer beauty and the mood is contented and serene. No. 22 is likewise very beautiful. It opens in the same mood as its predecessor, but with fuller chords and warmer colouring ; it later develops agitation, and finally the now familiar subsidence into contented weariness — all this in the short space of 24 bars. No. 23 is as dainty as Chopin at his daintiest, but with the Scriabin grip and in- dividuahty now. No. 24 is rather larger than most, and surges along with tempestuous energy and force." Op. 19 brings us to the Second Sonata, a " Fantasy Sonata." The two movements, although written At different times, coalesce spiritually in such a wonderful way. The first movement (Andante) was written at Genoa in 1892 ; the second, five years later in the Crimea. Does the equal geographical latitude accoimt for the cohesion ? An interesting question ! There are three chief themes in the first movement, all of great beauty : the first subject, very striking in rhythmical im- portance ; the second, a gracefully spun melodic line, and the third an aspiring hymn-like tune. Also the composer, as is his wont, elevates his bridge- passage almost into a new subject, thus making four themes for this highly finished and very eloquent movement. The last three notes of the first subject are significant, as the little motive appears to have obsessed Scriabin's mind all his life. They are like the "Knocks of Fate" in THE EARLY WORKS QI Beethoven, and are used at various points through- out the movement. This trait was destined to become a regular feature of Scriabin's works. The second (and final) movement Presto has three subjects — two of graceful filigree work, whilst the third — to which he evidently attaches most im- portance — is a hymn-like melody of great nobility and beauty. The Piano Concerto, Opus 20 In originality and imagination I place the Second Sonata far above the Pianoforte Concerto, which is perhaps the most popular of all Scriabin's piano- forte works. This Concerto in F sharp, Op. 20, was completed shortly after taking over his duties as Professor of Pianoforte Playing in his alma mater, the Moscow Conservatoire, in 1897. It is in three movements : an Allegro in F sharp minor, 3-4 time ; an Andante in F sharp major, 4-4 ; und an Allegro in F sharp minor and major, 9-8 time. This novel return to the uni-tonality of the old Suite form is noteworthy. The first movement has subjects of great beauty handled with exquisite artistry, but is perhaps a little lacking in melodic development. Th.e Andante (nearer Adagio surely, for it is marked 46 to the crotchet) is a set of charming variations on one of the loveliest themes ever penned. This hymn-like melody of 16 bars, played con sordino, is tinted with the ethereal beauty of the Adagio in the 12th Quartet of Beethoven. The Finale, an Allegro Moderato, is a little weak 92 SCRIABIN in thematic material and handling until it reaches the Meno Allegro, when the second (or is it the third ?) subject is given out in F major with hght palpitating chords on the piano, whilst the wood- wind breathe pale-coloured mists in the back- ground. The movement increases in interest as we proceed until a magnificent climax is reached with the return of the second subject in the Tonic major. The work is redolent of Chopin, but undoubtedly possesses decided individuality ; and the handling of form and of the orchestra is far in advance of that of the great Pole. We must not blame Scriabin for his unstinted admiration of the greatest master of the genius of the piano, and indeed it would be one of the greatest tributes to call him " The Russian Chopin," just as Medtner is frequently styled " The Russian Brahms." But it would only express a part of the truth in Scriabin's case, for he is much more than this. The First and Second Symphonies followed the Third Sonata. No. i, in E major, has a Choral Epilogue — a " Hjonn to Art." It was written during the six years which Scriabin seems to have wasted as Professor of the Pianoforte Class at his alma mater — from 1897 to 1903. During these six years he hardly composed anything, but he com- pleted his Second Symphony in 1903 shortly after his resignation from the tutorial staff. Two earlier pieces of considerable importance are the Fastasia in B, Op. 28, and the Tragedy (Poeme Tragique), Op. 34. The Fantasia is a piece on full s3miphonic lines, with an exposition of THE EARLY WORKS 93 three subjects well contrasted ; the first of a noble melancholy : Moderato. M.M. J=S6. Ped.\ ^1 the second of an exquisite tenderness the third of a majestic grandeur : Pib vivo. M»H. •!. There is a most masterly development and a full Return with a grandiose Coda, The only drawback is its difficulty, for here we no longer have the sketchiness of keyboard music which satisfied Beethoven and even Brahms in the more extended parts, but a full three-handed setting all to be 94 SCRIABIN encompassed by those wonderful, yet often wooden, ten fingers of ours. . The Tragedy, Op. 34, one of his finest pieces, seems to represent some popular festivity on a grand scale into the middle of which has come some striking tragedy which awes and astounds. The festivities are then resumed with the original vigour. Op. 33 is an interesting set, containing four little impressions of some of the chief prevailing moods in Scriabin's richly endowed emotional temperament. No. I, the dance emotion ; No. 2, the elusive and fanciful meditation, only vaguely defined; No. 3, the leonine mood, outraged pride ; No. 4, bellicpse : To arms ! Anyone interested in the psychological import of Scriabin's music can easily trace all these moods under his continually progressive style, Q)mpare No. 3 here, for instance. H H J.88 with Op. 37, No. 4 ; Op. 56, No. i ; Op. 59, No. 2 ; and so on. The year 1903 was amazingly fruitful in works, being probably the most fertile period of Scriabin's life. In the space of nine months, he wrote all the pieces from 0pp. 30 to 43, including the Fourth Sonata, the Third Symphony {The Divine Poem), and a large number of Etudes, Preludes, Valses, THE EARLY WORKS 95 and Poems. There is only room here to mention a few of these pieces. Let us choose the set of Pre- ludes, Op. 31, the brilliant Poeme Satanique, Op. 36, and the Four Preludes, Op. 37. The First Prelude of the four in Op. 31 is a slow, sweet melody in D flat, delicious in its curves and long-drawn breaths. The overlapping accompani- ment figure, which he so much affected, is frequently found also in the piano works of his old tutor, Taneieff. It commences in D flat, but ends in C major. I give a couple of bars because the left-hand work is a permanent characteristic of Scriabin : The second, marked con stravagante (Anglice: let yourself go), is a fine example of the little Prelude form, in the sense used by Chopin ; for it is a decided mood-piece with a very passionate Russian outburst of temper. The chord of the " French Sixth " with the Dominant in the Bass is much in evidence ; indeed he seems fairly obsessed with this chord at this period, and I think it was one of the chords which first turned him to the possibilities of the new harmony. Compare this piece, for instance, with the Poime Satanique, which is on the border-line 96 SCRIABIN of the new harmony, and with the Ironica of No. 56, which is well into the new tract. The Third Prelude, Op. 31, is another cross- rhythm piece study in quintuples ; whilst the last one is an outstanding little gem of harmonic thought — a delightful little miniature. I have given it in full in Chapter XV of my Modern Harmony (Augener, London). Perhaps the one thing which will retard largely the popularity of Scriabin's pianoforte pieces is the occasional unapproachableness of the tech- nique from the amateur's point of view. Still, whilst many of the pieces in all the three chief, styles of Scriabin present great difficulties for either the right hand (as in Op. 37, No. i) ; or else for the left (No. 3) ; if, indeed, not for both (No. a). Still there is always one piece at least in each Opus more approachable, as for instance No. 4 in this set. It is angry and powerful in mood, and well laid out in design. Yet do not let us get the idea that Scriabin is " unpianistic." No one, not even Chopin, understood and wrote for the piano more entirely in its proper genius than did Scriabin. VIII THE WORKS OF THE TRANSITION PERIOD The division of Scriabin's worlj into periods is a somewhat unsatisfying procedure. For instance, there is a Prelude, No. 2 in Op. 39, which, although quite short, is full of prophecy of the new stage. It is also, by the way, a real little gem of music. Again, the Op. 36, Potfne Satanique, is one of the most striking of all his pieces. There we have rugged ironic phrases alternating with tender cantahile amoroso melodies. It would seem that Satire and Irony are quite modern additions to music. I do not know the Psychology of Satire, and, though cheap sarcasm seldom serves any fine purpose, satire may at times be very salutary. But music cannot be consistently satirical for long, and even then only through contrast and not otherwise. So the result here is a niagnificent piece of music, bellicose, imperious, calm, tender, and winning by turns. We find it in his favourite chord, the " French Sixth/' carried one stage further. . The final Cadence will serve to illustrate this point : gS SCRIABIN In Op. 40, Two Mazurkas, the first one (marked at a speed no Mazurka is ever danced — 168 equals crotchet) has an exquisite charm. It seems a shame to analyse such a piece of fragile beauty ; but theoretically it is a study with unusual positions of the chord of the 13th with the minor gth, and it is specially interesting as a sort of study for the later Danse caresse, Op. 57, with which it is closely connected in feeling. There are alternate languido and tempo bars, and the piece is a perfect little cameo of delicate rhythm. By the term " Poem " Scriabin seems to indicate a poetical piece longer than a short Prelude or Miniature — a piece with more than one subject. In Op. 41, Podme in D flat, we have a softly breathed melody, over a fluttering accompaniment of ex- quisite delicacy,, f®r the first subject. This forms a strong contrast with the middle portion, where a more impassioned melody is accompanied by agitated downward arpeggios in the Bass. The harmony here points to a forward evolutionary stage. The various " Sets " of Preludes' are always more difficult to place in evolution, as it was his custom to write these shorter pieces at different times, whenever the mood struck him, and to gather them up and publish them in sets later on. The first of the Set of Eight Preludes, Op. 42, is a fairly long and intricate finger piece. It is also a problem in rhythm — 5 crotchets in the bass against 9 quavers in the treble. The second one is also in cross-rhythm. The third is a delicate fluttering Pres- tissimo. They are all good to play and good to hear. THE WORKS OF THE TRANSITION PERIOD 99 In Op. 44, Two Poems, we are decidedly arriving amongst the upper harmonics. The first piece here contradicts my earlier definition of " Poem," for it is very short and has only one subject, a long- drawn song-mel6dy in the clarinet register of the keyboard. The second Poem is in ten-bar phrases — an unusual thing with Scriabin. The Feuillet d' album, Op. 45 (i), I find very near the commonplace ; but this may only be by contrast with the fantastic charm of the Poem (No. 2), and the delicious harmony and appog- giaturas in No. 3 of the same Opus. The fantastic note is again to the fore in the Scherzo, Op. 46, but a serious mood comes over the composer just at the finish. In the Quasi-Valse, Op. 47, we again see how Scriabin approached the new harmony step by step, through the device of appoggiaturas and passing notes. An impetuous, fiery little Prelude opens the 48th Opus. This is followed by a short hymn-like Adagio with a delicate web of arpeggio filigree below ; by a capricious restless little Prelude in D flat (threes against twos), and by a jubilant Festival Piece in C, this last, a splendid little tone-picture full of glowing sunlight. Op. 49, Three Pieces : Study, Prelude, Reverie, is a very valuable little set. The Study is the nearest approach to an ^olian harp which I have yet heard U.H, itm. 100 SCRIABIN The Prelude is written with the leonine rage which is one of Scriabin's prevailing moods ; whilst the Reverie is a harmonic Pastel of a tender delicacy.' The compositions of the middle period— -say roughly from Opp. 34 to 50 — are amongst the happiest and serenest things in music. He has lost his youthful love of melancholy, and knows nothing of the almost anxious philosophy of some of the later pieces or the shadowy deeps of the middle Sonatas, without which perhaps his radiant moments might seem less bright. Here in the summer of his life all is radiant happiness, the joying in beauty, in the warmth of friendship, and in the love of a life which he finds good to live. Even on the few occasions when he indulges in Satire (as in Poeme Satanique) his happier nature wins easily. Play the final Prelude in Op. 48 if you want to hear real joy — the shared human joy of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, " Joy> thou daughter of Elysium, 'Tis thy magic art that knitteth What stern fashion's law would part ; Where thy gentle presence dwelleth. Men are one in soul and heart."^ With Scriabin it is all done entirely through the wonders of harmony itself. ' Natalia Macfarren's translation (Novello). IX THE MYSTIC CHORD " Those men of genius who cannot be surpassed may be equalled. How ? By being different." Victor Hugo. We know that no musical sound or note is abso- lutely pure and single.^ All contain a large number of upper partial tones (some heard, others inaudible) which help to make up the general effect of the ground-tone which we recognise chiefly as the note. Here is the table of those most usually recognised. When the low C is struck, an exceptionally trained ear could doubtless recognise the presence of all these : If you cannot hear them easily, you can prove their existence by a simple experiment at the piano keyboard. Put the note No. 2 down silently, now strike No. i shortly and sharply, and you will hear No. 2 respond, though you have done nothing directly to agitate its wire strings. All the others can be proved in the same way, even Nos. 7, 11 and 13, which are not quite in time with Nature's chord. (Don't call it Nature's scale ; because it is a chord.) • Except perhaps a very few notes on the flute and on specially prepared metal bars. loi 102 SCRIABIN But this is not the way the harmony of Palestrina, Purcell, Handel, Bach, and Beethoven was derived. Although many theorists — Rameau, Day, Hiles, Macfarren, and even Prout — have from time to time endeavoured to force the theory of harmony on to these Unes, it should be remembered that theorists should follow the artists and not precede them ; and even down to the present day, musical composers have shown themselves singularly ignor- ant of the laws of Acoustics.^ Our harmony grew up on far different Unes in tentative, aesthetic, and empirical ways. And so too did all our scales. In an illuminating talk I had once with my friend. Dr. Walford|Davies, he gave a clever exposition of the way in which he considered our harmony had evolved. Obviously the octave, being the natural distance between the male and female voices, or those of boys and men, would be the first interval discovered. Then a more fastidious choice of a comfortable interval would be the 4th or 5th between. Then the 5th would be divided in its turn ; and then the 4th. Larger clusters of notes with added " tones " would be used, until at length the " whole-tone " chords were reached. » The Belgian theorist d'Ergo points out many discrepancies and falsities in Strauss' itevision of Berlioz's " Instrumentation " (Peters). THE MYSTIC CHORD 103 It is true that now and again the practice of Beethoven, Bach, and all the others does seiem to coincide with the laws of Acoustic Science, but whatever be the significance of this, it is only with them for special cases. («) Beethoven (^) ^m Brahms tt p m a ^ w^ r ^ ' i ' i '- ' 4' •set And even so, these cases all stop short at those upper partial notes which are badly out of tune with our present practical system : Nos. 11, 13, 14, and 15, for instance. 104 SCRIABIM But Scriabin, in his later stages; assumes they are quite near enough for the purpose and takes them all into his net. Moreover, he accents the whole series, 7ths, gths, i3ths, etc., as a concord, and in his last period especially cultivates the higher partials even to the most varied placements ahd inversions. He still regards them as inversions. even when the root is absent. Further, having accepted the piano tuning (duodecuple) as his basis, he writes these harmonics quite freely as enharmonics. G flat and F sharp and so on, are all the same to him. For instance. Op. 65 (ii) ends in D flat, but is described as being in C sharp. Again in the Poeme Satanique, where the following : is repeated, the G flat is more correctly F sharp. Later on, in the following chord : ^ ^^ ^_-5. j^^ — "h -i!=5t 1 *-r- • ^ ft.- « 1»-) — 1 — 1 — = — ^— f--t-KL ^ 1— ^L-U-i— 1. the G sharp is obviously the minor 9th, A flat. This THE " MVSTIC CHORD " IO5 does not sound very consistent with his theory, and it often makes his root troublesome to find. But why bother about it ? — Since the two sounds are accepted as the same in music, what does the notation matter — or the unknown root either ? The music is tHe thing. . Scriabin founded no new scale. English and American writers have been led astray on this point. He uses the Duodecuple scale, which is that now adopted by all modern writers: Strauss, Elgar, Debussy, Cyril Scott, Ravel, and all the others. He discovered many new chords or combinations ; but, what is more remarkable, he invented practically a new style of composition. He takes a certain new chord which suits the particular' feelings he wants to express, and evolves the whole composition out of this oneextended harmony, using it only on a very few roo-|;s, often two or three ; sometimes even only one. Moreover, he adopts his series as a perfect concord, satisfying in itself. Debussy, Cyril Scott, and others have done this, but they do not develop on the lines of Scriabin. In his early period Scriabin himself used some of these newer combinations as discords, and resolved them ac- cordingly ; and indeed many- of these newer chords have been reached in other (empirical) ways by such composers as York-Bowen, Vaughan- Williams, Coleridge-Taylor {Hiawatha cadence), and others. But once Scriabin has chosen a particular com- bination for a piece, he adopts it whole-heartedly — and the perfect revolution in music that it involves. io6 SCRIABIN The old major and minor modes go ; the key- signature goes (not the tonality) ; and the " equal temperament " in tuning is accepted in a way never entirely done before (despite Bach's " Forty- eight "). His chosen " foundation chord," sweet sounding or not, is accepted as a concord, and the only discords left then are " suspensions," " passing notes," and '•' appoggiaturas." He chooses any sounds he likes from the " har- monic series " (Ex. 8), and arranges them for the purpose as he fancies. One chord, which his disciples have dubbed the " mystic chord," is a selection from the first thirteen of this series, arranged in a structure of 4ths. There is no mystery about it. It is wonderfully logical. He simply says : " Take the sounds from the natural series and build them up in a structure of 4ths." The result is a chord of extreme beauty and interest : Derivatton. Play it over forte, then -piano ; then sprinkle it very softly ; try it in various keys. We have the splendid vitality of the augmented 4th, the soft moUity of the diminished 4th, the sweet firmness of the perfect 4th, and so on. Reckoning every- thing from the root, we get the " augmented THE MYSTIC CHORD 107 iith." the "minor 7th," the 3rd, the 13th, and the 9th. The marvellous possibilities of such a chord are seen in Prometheus, the Seventh Sonata, the Feuillet d' album, Op. 58, etc., which are all founded on this one chord alone. Common chords, 7ths, 6-5's, augmented 6ths, even the "whole- tone " scale are only a few of the derivatives of such a far-reaching chord. Long passages in gths, 7ths, or 5ths all spring from it quite naturally. (See Op. 65, Nos. I, 2, 3.) For other pieces Scriabin takes simpler com- binations. The two pieces in Op. 57 are founded on this chord : # #4: Of course the chords appear in any arrangement of the notes, 4ths, 3rds, 2nds, etc., and even when arranged in his chief position — ^in- 4ths, the root may be scarcely touched, as in ^trangete (see following Ex.), or in Op. 59 (ii), the opening of the Tenths Sonata, or the last chords of Op. 63 (ii) and 65 (iii). io8 SCRIASIN On the other hand, we find some very complex and puzzling " concords " in the later pieces. Op. 65 (ii) is constructed on the following : The Sixth Sonata is founded on the following wondrous combination : G, C, F, B, and E fiat. The Sonata is in G — or rather on G : _™ — 3- The mysterious Seventh Sonata is evolved from one harmony only, even the second chord being the same as the first with the omission of one of the notes. The Sonata is a marvel of development from a single harmony. Tone-clangs, toUings of every colour and emotion, subjects, counter-subjects, even THE " MYSTIC CHORD 109 the following lovely theme of comparative con- sonance may be found amongst the upper partials : The Eighth Sonata is founded on the following foundation chord : SE no SCRIABIN No. 4 in the final set of Preludes ends with this remarkable chord : Sometimes, the whole composition is evolved from one chosen combination ; but more often two combinations (sbmetimes only differing by one note) are -selected for variety. Occasionally the first subject is founded on one harmony; the second subject being built on another, as in Atrangete, Op. 69. Sometimes he lets his combination oscillate slightly in some part. As in the Prelude, Op. 6, No. 2, where the E flat finally decides on E natural at the close. THE MYSTIC CHORD III When three chords are selected, we frequently find this formula A, B, A, C. /' His Bass progressions are much simpler as a rule than in the ordinary practice of other composers. Occasionally he is satisfied with two basses only, and then the choice falls invariably on the aug- mented 4th (or diminished 5th), which in Scriabin -S|?.»^e£ded astheDoimnmit. ^ee Op.561^, the Etude, Op. 65 (111), thePom/Op. 69, the piece Op. 58 in the New Russian Album, etc. -Imperlenx. m.m.Jiiob The preference for this progression in the Bass is seen even in the earlier pieces of his older style in the Mazurka, Op. 40 (i), in the Scherzo, Op. 46, the Quasi Valse, Op. 47, etc. Rachmaninoff, by the way, was not impervious to the beauty of this harmonic colouring. Witness the following passage from his Elegy : 112 SCRIABIN Occasionally the Bass steps by major srds (Op. 67, ii) ; sometimes by minor 3rds, as in Masque, Op. 63 (i), J^tude, Op. 66 (i), Prelude, Op. 67 (i), Vers la Flamme, Op. 72, etc. ; and even by inajor znds or diminished 3rds (Op. 65, i and ii ; Op. 67, i). When we find the ordinary Tonic and Dominant progres- sion in the Bass as in the Desir and the Danse caresse, the music is much easier to understand. The perfect equality oi the steps of the above- mentioned progressions in the Bass should be carefully noticed, as I think much of the strange- ness of Scriabin's music is due to it. I have noted this before in the works of Ravel, Karg- Elert, Reger, Cyril Scott, Bantock, Tscherepnine, even in Wagner, and in my Modern Harmony, I theorised to some extent on this subject, long before I knew that Scriabin's practice supported my theory. Let us now take a couple of pieces and analyse them from this point of view. Poem, Op. 52 (i) in C. Two harmonies only are used for this Ex., [a) and (6) : In bar i we have {a), in bars 2-3 (6), in bar 4 (a) THE " MYSTIC CHORD " 113 again ; in bar 5 the {a) chord over A flat root ; in bars 6-7 («) chord oVer F root. This swings us to a new centre, D instead of C, which device is the nearest to a modulation which Scriabin can make on these new lines. Bars 8 to 14 are the first seven bars transposed a note higher. Bars 16 to 24 show the (&) series gradually swinging itself down on a long G pedal-point. Then the whole piece repeats itself with transposition, ending over a long C pedal-point, varied by occasional interposed A flat chords. The piece closes with a common chord. It belongs to the transitional period. Prelude in C, Op. 59 (ii), savage and bellicose, is founded on the following modified series of 4ths. Saitvage. betliq^ In {a) we have the major 7th omitted ; in (6) it is present, but the augmented 4th is replaced by the 5th. The theme (bars 1-5) is founded on these two chords ; it is then transposed a minor 3rd up (6-10), the (6) series is then augmented in time duration and dwelt on at considerable length, bringing out all its most aggressive qualities (bars ii-26\. We see in bars 14-15, etc., how an ordinary plain common chord may he derived from such a complex series. 114 SCRIABIN The rest of the piece is mere transposition, the alternating chord on C being constructed with the omission of one note (A) and substitution of the fifth (G) for F sharp. There is not a sop for the conservatives even in the final chord, which is constructed thus : But even this sounds quite old-fashioned compared with the final chords of some of these later pieces. Take, for instance, Op. 65 (ii), Op. 67 (ii), and the ending to Op. 59 (i). THE MYSTIC CHORD "5 Advanced as all this sounds, it is still a logical growth from the earlier elaboration made possible by the sustaining pedal to Field, and afterwards to Chopin, and finally to Scriabin. Thinking entirely along these lines, we might sketch out briefly the history of harmonic evolution there thus : t> u u u u But how much better such harmony sounds on the 5delding evanescent and ethereal tones of the piano than on the very irregularly constituted tone- productions of the modern orchestra. The subject is too vast to pursue further here ; but I am opening it up in a new book, Further Studies in Modern Harmony. X THE TEN SONATAS We have elsewhere emphasised the perfectly natural growth and evolutionary character of Scriabin's creations. As one proceeds onwards, from the earliest pieces of his childhood and student days at Moscow to the stage when he finds his own individuality on the old lines ; then again through the transition period, when we find him pushing out as it were tentatively here and there in his rhythm, in his handling of themes, in his texture, but especially in his harmony; right up to the culmination of his new style in the final works — ^we always find a step forward into new terrain with each successive piece. Nowhere is this feature better seen than with the Ten Sonatas, which reveal themselves as so many landmarks in the evolution of Scriabin's style and expression. But this is by no means the only (nor the chief) recommendation of these Sonatas to special notice 5 for in the judgment of most^modern critics they are in every way worthy of ranking with the very greatest things in pianoforte literature. They are destined in the future to occupy a niche of their own, together with such treasures as the Forty-eight Fugues of Bach, the Thirty-two Sonatas of Beethoven, the Pianoforte Works of Brahms, and the music of Chopin. 116 THE TEN SONATAS II7 These Ten Sonatas were written at various periods spread over the whole of his artistic career. In them we see the Russian composer as a harmonic revolutionary ; and at the same time as a thorough- going conservative in the matter of instrumental form and design. Following strictly in his middle period upon the lines laid down by Beethoven, Scriabin, even in his later Sonatas, approximates the principles of Beethoven's forms to the application of Liszt's method of using themes. The First Sonata, F minor, Opus 6 , What a beginning we find here ! The young musical giant commences with an Ols^npian stride comparable only to that of Brahms in his Sonata in F minor. Op. 5. Scriabin's First Sonata was written in Moscow in 1892, shortly after the termination of his course at the Conservatoire. It was published by M. P. Belaieff in 1895. As may be expected in a first work, there are traces of outside influence, chiefly of Chopin. But the Polish tone-poet was never such a perfect writer of musical form as we find here. There are abundant traces of a rising individuality, chiefly in certain distinctive melodic turns, in the handling of the subjects, in the texture of the accompaniment- figures, in the dispersion of his chords, and in his rhythmical patterns. The Sonata is in three movements. The first movement is in the so-called " Sonata form," with its exposition of three subjects ; then their develop- ii8 SCRIABIN ment ; the final recapitulation and the coda. The first theme commences as follows ; Allegro con fuoco. M. m'J- = 104 The bridge portion begins at the end of the eighth bar, and leads in the twenty-first bar to the second subject [meno mosso) in the key of E flat major. The individual poetic note of the young musician comes out very strongly here. McDO mOSBO. J- ; 84 At bar 41 we have a third subject in the key of A flat which finishes with a perfect cadence. THE TEN SONATAS 119 After a few beats' rest the " development " (45 bars in all) commences with the first subject in the enharmonic key of G sharp minor. The strenuous third subject now appears, muted, With its rhythm dully thudding in the bass. The first subject increases the effect of its soaring nature by being developed in the major mode. But this suddenly evaporates into the little motive of its first three notes, sadly predictive of the Funeral March at the end of ^;he Sonata. This, however, is soon brushed aside ; the first subject resumes its soaring, and sud- denly bursts into the return of the first Exposition, here appearing with the utmost force. The second subject likewise appears brilliantly displayed in C minor with widely-spread chords of great strength. A soft Dominant Pedal-point brings in the third subject in F major, with its rising scale progression. The majesty gradually disappears in the last eight bars, where there is a curious vacillation between the major and minor — ^between the moods of optimism and pessimism. But the mood of the whole move- ment is that of a noble aspiration. The second movement is in Song form. The first theme is the very quintessence of the folk-song spirit — highly idealised. It consists of four phrases, commencing thus : M.M. J.40 . .^ — ^ — . . _ / f^^ '-"rtt =.=s=^ =#= iJ j--| ■ - s LS ^4i *t'\,i \i f^¥ \ n> - 1 E r^'~ """ ~ \ ~ ' ,J !■- 1'^ / *#r^ 3=" 33 = i3 —i 3 a - 1^^ 1 ^ ^ t— - •* ♦^ ^^ ^ ^- ■■ a -^r . 120 SCRIABIN The second subject is founded on the fundamental germ of the Sonata. This reaches a certain stage of aspiration, and then melts into the reappearance of the first, (folk-song) subject — ^this time with a busy restless bass figura- tion. A charming movement, full of wonderful beauty ! The third (final) movement {presto) is con- structed over a musical framework known as the " Rondo-Sonata " form. The first subject appears over the little pafpitating figure in the bass. This figure also is derived from the fundamental motive. Presto. M.M J-=i»3 uimmmL The second subject appears in bar 13. We then hark back to the first, which gives in its turn to the second subject of the first movement, which is con- siderably expanded here. The first subject again THE TEN SONATAS 121 intervenes ; then the second subject, and finally the first again, the music culminating rapidly in force and leading to — sudden disaster {Marche Fun^bre). This is relieved in the middle by an angelic song of celestial beauty, quasi mente (in the distance). What a work for a beginning — filled doubtless with that pessimism to which youth turns so glibly between eighteen and twenty-one — but filled also with an immense strength — ^a spirit evidently prepared to battle with " the sorry scheme of things." If aspiration be the key-note of the first movement, and the pleasure of poetic dreamy meditation of the second, then a sudden girding on of strength ready for the dimly-felt on-coming disaster is the keynote of the third. There is a fixed unity of purpose about the whole work ; and the tragedy of it strangely predicts and summarises the story of the composer's life. There are many other technical and artistic unifying devices which bind the whole work together in a closer embrace than we find with Beethoven — devices learnt from Brahms ; the construction and the transmutation of the themes from Liszt. The first subject of the first movement, the second 122 SCRIABIN subject of the second, the first subject of the finale and the Funeral March are all built from the same little three-note germ. Funelire.JsSO, .m^^'f- if' g^ggg ^ aT ft II — m : 1 — 1 LU 1 i L*-^ 1 — ^^ hlrtsjd Compare the fateful knocking too, just before the Angelic Song in the Funeral March, and its re- appearance in the last bar of the Sonata. It has some affinity with the " Fate theme " of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony ,•* but here, it is as though young Scriabin, like the Eastern philosopher, impatiently " turned up an empty glass." The Second (Fantasy) Sonata, S^ sharp minor. Opus 19 This Sonata is in two movements only. The first movement was begun by Scriabin at Genoa in 1892, but the second movement was not written until 1897 when he was in the Crimea. The Sonata was published by M. P. Belaieff in 1898. The composer has here completely found his whole individuality, and in depth of thought and expression and mastery of presentation, it leaves the First Sonata far THE TEN SONATAS 123 behind. The first movement is marked Andante, but-metronomed at 60 to the crotchet.^ The second is a Presto in 3-2 time. There is no actual thematic relationship between the two movements.*' But there is a close spiritual relationship of Question and Answer — a Proposition and its exact com- plement. The two movements are also subtly connected by the key-scheme ; thus the Sonata opens in G sharp minor in the orthodox form — but the whole of the usual " Recapitulation part " (much condensed) appears in the unusual key of E major. This runs into the last move- ment without break — the final movement (Presto) being in the original Tonic minor key (G sharp minor). We will now look at the movements more in detail. The first movement (Andante) is con- structed in the usual Sonata-form. The first theme is striking. AndAnte- h. N. J : flo It bears a subtle relationship with the " knocks of Fate" in Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. For the " bridge-subject " the first subject is transformed, ' Mendelssohn's use of the term Andante is similarly mis- leading. The Italian word simply means " walking," "going," or " moving." ' Unless it be between the three repeated notes in the first bar of the opening and the three reiterated ninths in the left hand of the subsidiary theme dolcissimo of the second move- ment (page 13). 124 SCRIABIN leading to the " second theme " (bar 23) (in^the regulation relative key, B major). Already we see a liking for the soft effect of the major 2nd in chord formation. Of«course they are here taken as appoggiaturas, but nearly all the newer chords were discovered in this way. This is surrounded with filigree work of great poetic beauty, especially on its immediate repetition, which gradually makes way for the third subject — a hymn-like melody (also in B major) of strong melodic eharm ^pd much nobility. The " Exposition " ends at the fifty-seventh bar with a " full close " in B major. ^ A short but masterly development follows (29 bars in all), deal- ing with the first and second subjects (not the third), and especially with the " fateful knockings." The " Recapitulation " section is noteworthy. Two bars only of the first subject suffice, for the com- poser hastens to his second subject (now in E major), on which he dwells ; and still more so with the third one (also in E), which he elaborates • with infinite zest. But this gradually dies down, and we end with the " fateful knocks " now almost inaudible, as though dying away in the distance. » The repetition of this section, which Scriabin adopted in his First Sonata, has now disappeared with him once for all. THE TEN SONATAS 125 The Finale {Presto) which follows is one of the finest movements in the whole range of Scriabin's music. Indeed for completeness of conception and for perfect finish, it would be difficult to find any movement to surpass it in this order. The first theme begins thus : The subsidiary theme enshrines amongst its delicate filigree work the ubiquitous Fate notes. The first subject then recurs with the addition of a hew bass figure of great power and wide sweep. At bar 41 we have the second theme in E flat minor, truly noble in feeling and melodically expressive. It contains wonderful possibilities of development of .which the composer is not slow to take advantage. Note the canon at the unison at bars 63 et seq. The " Recapitulation " takes place at bar 79, the sub- sidiary subject being omitted, much importance being attached to the lovely singing melody which appears (still in the minor) over a Dominant Pedal which is developed in a grandiose manner, dying away just before the two unexpected, powerftil Tonic chords with which the Sonata terminates. This Sonata far surpasses the First in unity of thought, in power of expression, and in pure in- vention. The composer has here thrown off the reflections of the musical giants who preceded him, 12,6 SCRIABIN and has manifested the full individuality of his own brilliant personality. The Third Sonata, F sharp minor, Opus 23 For the Third Sonata, written in 1897 on the Maidanovoff estate in the Klinsky government, Scriabin uses the form of four-movements. This Sonata was composed almost immediately after the completion of the second one, and it was published by M. P. Belaieff in 1898. The first movement (Dramattco, M.M. crotchet =69) appears in regular " Sonata form." The first theme opens with short broken phrases gradually rising in power. There is an impressive nobility about it.^ Dramatlco. m.h. Jtaa. %3. *