Mily Balakirev
Mily Balakirev (1837-1910)

All the members of the "Mighty Handful"—the small circle of nationalistic composers led by Mily Alekseevich Balakirev (1837-1910)—were somewhat suspicious of Turgenev. Whilst they recognized his merits as a writer, they were dismayed by his apparent preference for living abroad rather than in his native Russia, whose nature and people he had portrayed with such sympathy in A Huntsman's Sketches (1847-51). This wariness on their part turned into ill-feeling after the publication of Smoke in 1867, for in this novel the convinced Westernizer Potugin, many of whose opinions were clearly Turgenev's own, not only dared to question the cult of Glinka which was gaining great currency in some sections of the Russian press (especially in the articles of César Cui), but also spoke ironically of the Russian "home-grown geniuses", or "rough diamonds", and their lamentable ignorance:

"Only a few minutes ago there was this gentleman bustling about here who imagines himself to be a musician of genius. 'Of course,' he told me, 'I don't count for anything because I haven't studied anywhere, but I assure you that I have incomparably more melodies and ideas in my head than Meyerbeer!' What I would have liked to say to him is firstly this: so why haven't you studied? And, secondly, that not just Meyerbeer but the lowliest German flautist who humbly whistles his part in the worst German orchestra has twenty times more ideas than all our Russian 'rough diamonds' put together. It's just that the flautist keeps these ideas to himself and doesn't try to thrust them on others in the homeland of Mozart and Haydn, whereas our 'rough diamond' just has to strum the piano a bit, produce some little waltz or romance, and lo and behold! there he is already with his hands stuck in his pockets and a contemptuous smile on his lips, saying: 'I am a genius'. And it's the same in painting, too, and everywhere else. I'm so fed up with these 'rough diamonds' of ours!" (Ch. XIV)

Together with Potugin's questioning of Glinka's achievements, such attacks on the Russian "rough diamonds" must have seemed like a personal affront to the composers of the "Mighty Handful". After all, in the Russian press they were regularly accused of dilettantism and ignorance by their detractors.

The unfairness of these accusations would have been felt most keenly by Balakirev. For a start, he was something of a "rough diamond" himself, though very much in a positive sense. Born in the provincial town of Nizhny-Novgorod, he showed musical ability at an early age and soon became an outstanding pianist and, thanks to his remarkable memory, one of the best Russian conductors of his time. He also started composing music quite early on, but here things were more complicated because in the Russia of his youth there were no conservatories to provide training in the disciplines which are essential for composition: music theory, harmony, and orchestration. It was precisely for this reason that Glinka, in 1830, had left Russia for Italy and then, three years later, had gone to Berlin where he was able to study with the eminent music theorist Siegfried Dehn. As for Balakirev, however, who came from a poorer family, no such option was available to him, and he picked up the technique of composition from his day-to-day practice as a conductor of all kinds of works, whose scores he was able to retain in his memory for many years. This does not mean, though, that, like the Russian "rough diamonds" ridiculed by Turgenev's Potugin, he rejected systematic learning and valued only intuition. On the contrary: for his pupils in composition—Musorgsky and, later on, Rimsky-Korsakov—he drew up very demanding programmes of study (for instance, they were expected to work through all of Beethoven's sonatas and symphonies). Indeed, Balakirev took his pedagogic role very seriously, as Rimsky-Korsakov was later to recall:

"It was after meeting Balakirev that I first heard that one had to read, take care over one's self-education, study history, belles-lettres, and critical writings" [1]

From the winter of 1861/62 onwards these two young composers—often joined by Cui, as well as by Vladimir Stasov in the role of observer—would meet in Balakirev's apartment every Saturday to play through the works they were composing and subject them to his critical scrutiny.

A photograph of Balakirev in Tiflis in 1863
Balakirev in Circassian dress in Tiflis,
in 1863.

It is worth pointing out that the above-cited ironical remarks by Potugin were not directed against the Balakirev circle as such. When he was pllanning and working on Smoke (from 1862 to 1867) Turgenev had very little knowledge of the "new Russian school of music", although he may have formed a certain opinion of it from the articles on music appearing in the Russian newspapers and journals which he subscribed to in Germany (his main country of residence in those years). In Russia there had always been plenty of aristocratic music-lovers who liked to come up with romances in their 'spare time' and imagined themselves to be real composers, and it is much more likely that Turgenev had these in mind in his novel. At any rate, the members of the Balakirev circle did not belong to high society, and the works they were trying to compose were more ambitious than mere songs.

It was in fact at the concert given by the Free Music School (see below) in Saint Petersburg on 6/18 March 1867 that Turgenev first heard some works by the composers of that circle, including Balakirev's overture to King Lear. According to Stasov, who first met the writer during the interval of this concert, Turgenev had burst out indignantly:

"And then that King Lear by Mr Balakirev. Balakirev and Shakespeare—what can there be in common between them? A colossus of poetry, and a pygmy of music—indeed, one who isn't even a musician" [2]

Stasov would probably have relayed this to Balakirev and his circle, but even if he did show some discretion, the observations about Glinka in Smoke, which was published that very same month, was sufficient reason for the composers of the "Mighty Handful" to treat Turgenev as an ideological enemy. In his memoirs Stasov noted how for many years they were reluctant to allow the famous writer to attend one of their soirées, which he was very keen on doing, so as to get to know the new Russian music better:

"For a long time the comrades [of the kuchka] refused to play anything for Turgenev. They all admired his novels and stories; they were all full of sincere respect for his talent, but were indignant about his disdain for our new musical school. They thought that there was no point in bothering about enlightening someone who was so un-musical by nature and who, on top of that, had become ossified amongst the old classicist prejudices that reigned abroad" [3]

How mistaken they and Stasov were in dismissing as "un-musical" one of the most musical of all Russian writers! Significantly, even before the publication of Smoke, Balakirev, in particular, had been biased against Turgenev, whom he hadn't even met, and thought of him as a musty, sentimental adherent of 'classical' works of the past. Thus, writing to Cui in the summer of 1864, he shared some unkind gossip which a friend had recently brought back from Germany:

"I've received some news about Madame Schumann, Viardot, and Anton Rubinstein: the first two are living in Baden. Mrs Schumann is busy all day with worries about boiling broth and sewing clothes for her children. M-me Viardot, after losing her voice and her youth, has become a classical!! singer and sings at concerts in Baden such things as Erlkönig, Schumann's Ich grolle nicht, and so on. All the time, sitting in front of her, is Turgenev ("père Tourguéneff") with his syrupy smile" [4]

Thus, even their enthusiasm for the works of Schumann, who was one of the European composers most highly regarded by the "Mighty Handful", was not enough to save Pauline Viardot and Turgenev from Balakirev's mockery.

A photograph of the Saint Petersburg Conservatory in 1900
The Saint Petersburg Conservatory in 1900.

No doubt, this ill-feeling had something to do with Mme Viardot and Turgenev being on friendly terms with Anton Rubinstein (although it must be said that Turgenev, like the "Mighty Handful", did not think highly of Rubinstein's compositions). For Balakirev positively detested Rubinstein, whose towering authority and influence on musical life in Saint Petersburg he considered to be an obstacle to the development of truly original Russian music. It had been partly to counteract the Saint Petersburg Conservatory, established along German lines at Rubinstein's initiative in 1862, that Balakirev, together with the choir-master Gavriil Lomakin (1812-85), in the same year set up the Free Music School for students from less affluent families. The concerts organized by the Free Music School featured, alongside works by Berlioz, Liszt, and Schumann, various new works by the members of the "Mighty Handful". All in all, it seems that Balakirev associated Turgenev with the pro-Germanic Conservatory 'faction' which he so loathed.

However, Turgenev for his part wasn't entirely fair in his judgements about Balakirev, whom he seems to have first met in March 1871 at a musical soirée in Saint Petersburg. This is what he wrote to Pauline Viardot about his impressions:

"I met there a lot of supporters of the new Russian musical school (though, unfortunately, not Cui, but I did meet the great Balakirev, whom they regard as their leader). The great Balakirev played rather badly some passages from a symphonic fantasia by Rimsky-Korsakov [Sadko] (remember those graceful romances by him which you were sent?). To me it seemed that in this fantasia on a rather bizarre Russian fairy-tale subject there really was a lot of phantasy. Then the great Balakirev played rather poorly some variations on themes by Liszt and Berlioz, the latter, in particular, being the Ideal of the Absolute for these gentlemen. Anyway, my overall impression is that Balakirev is an intelligent person. Kein Talent, doch ein Charakter" [5]
Heine in 1829
Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)

The German phrase cited by Turgenev at the end of this passage— "Kein Talent, doch ein Charakter" ("No talent, but a strong personality")—is from Heinrich Heine's mock epic poem Atta Troll (1843) [6]. A master of scintillating irony, Heine had used the figure of the clumsy and patriotic German bear Atta Troll to poke fun at such writers as Arnold Ruge who, in spite of lacking true talent, nevertheless attained great popularity thanks to the liberal-patriotic slogans with which they filled their works. By applying this phrase to Balakirev, Turgenev evidently meant that the latter was more notable for his role as the leader of the "new Russian school of music" than for his talent as a composer. It is certainly true that Balakirev possessed a strong and forceful personality, reflected in his almost magnetic glance. Initially, all the members of his circle submitted to his authority unconditionally. Cui, for example, was later to acknowledge that

"Balakirev was head and shoulders above us. He took care of us like a brood-hen with her chickens. All our first works passed through his strict censorship" [7]

—and Rimsky-Korsakov described the effect of his teacher's appearance as follows:

"Young as he was, with wonderful lively, fiery eyes and a fine beard; always talking in a resolute and commandingly frank tone; ready at any moment to sit at the piano and perform some marvellous improvisation; instantly committing to memory every bar of the works we played to him; it is not surprising that he fascinated us like no one else could" [8]

From today's perspective, Turgenev's judgement about the lack of full-blooded creative talent in Balakirev seems a fair one, since with the exception of the symphonic poem Tamara (1866-82) and the oriental fantasy for piano Islamey (1869) Listen to the oriental fantasy «Islamey»!, his works are now rarely performed in the concert-hall. Balakirev perhaps vaguely sensed this himself, which would explain why he took so long over most of his works (which are relatively few in number) and preferred instead to guide his younger colleagues in their own compositional efforts. For example, he sent Tchaikovsky the most detailed letters, full of advice and suggestions, regarding the latter's Romeo and Juliet overture (1869) and the Manfred Symphony (1885). When looking through the compositions of his students he was equally forthcoming with advice and corrections. (It was precisely because of this somewhat 'despotic' trait in his character that Musorgsky decided to break free from the influence of his former teacher when he started work on Boris Godunov).

However, Turgenev's critical remarks about Balakirev's abilities as a performer seem rather strange, for even if Balakirev was no virtuoso like Anton or Nikolai Rubinstein, he was still a remarkably accomplished pianist. Otherwise, he would hardly have been able to compose and play so fiendishly complex a piece as the oriental fantasy Islamey (1869) Listen to the oriental fantasy «Islamey»!! (The latter was inspired by memories of a Kabardino dance which Balakirev had seen during a visit to the Caucasus in 1863). Moreover, if Turgenev had been better informed about musical life in the imperial capital and the great difficulties with which Balakirev had to contend—that is, his unjust dismissal from the post of principal conductor of the Russian Musical Society in 1869, which provoked indignant articles by Stasov and Tchaikovsky [9], and his financial straits because of the need to support his younger brothers and sisters, whilst hardly receiving any state subsidies for his teaching work at the Free Music School—he might not have spoken so slightlingly about the leader of the "Mighty Handful". All these circumstances gradually sapped Balakirev's energy and led to a severe spiritual crisis in 1872, as a result of which he withdrew from musical and social life for a whole decade.

Balakirev in later years
Balakirev in later years.

In later years Balakirev's nationalism and religiosity became more pronounced, as did his Slavophile outlook on Russian history. Thus, he condemned Peter the Great's reforms for the harm which, in his view, they had done by foisting upon Russia various institutions and practices that were alien to her. This is clearly reflected in the epistolary polemic which, in 1904, he waged with the linguist and music scholar Sergei Bulich (1859-1921). Bulich was on friendly terms with Balakirev, whom he admired for his key role in building up the "new Russian school of music" in the 1860s, but, as a trained historian and convinced "Westernist", he did not share Balakirev's rosy view of pre-Petrine Russia. After reading an article by Bulich which was intended as a centenary tribute to Glinka, Balakirev had written to him and pointed out that, whilst he was pleased with the article as a whole, he could not agree with some disparaging remarks it contained regarding the Byzantine legacy in Russia. For the Orthodox faith which Russia had inherited from Byzantium, with its conciliarism, Balakirev argued, had accorded perfectly with the traditional Assembly of the Land in Muscovite Russia, whereby the tsar had consulted directly with the people. This harmony had been destroyed by the "police-state system" imported from Europe by Peter the Great. In his reply, Bulich admitted that there were some unpleasant aspects about the latter's rule, but insisted that without the Petrine reforms Russia would never have been able to develop further, and, in particular, that the emergence of such pioneering artists as Pushkin and Glinka had been made possible only by the opening up to European culture that Peter had initiated, because in Muscovite Russia, with its Byzantine legacy, secular art had always been frowned upon. In true Slavophile fashion Balakirev retorted that without the "violent" reforms introduced from above by Peter, Russia would have developed following her own momentum alone—her "national spirit"—and reached even greater heights. He then remarked ironically:

"Judging from your opinions, with which I have ventured to quarrel, it would be more fitting if you also thought the same way about Russian music as Turgenev's heroes do. However, it is the freshness of your musical views, which you have reached independently, that has drawn me towards you and inspired in me the fervent desire to try to spur you on to an independent revision of your historical opinions, which you have just taken on trust from various authorities" [10]

This passage shows that even almost forty years later, the Westernism of Turgenev as expressed in his novel Smoke still rankled with the founder of the "Mighty Handful"!  



Notes:

  1. Quoted in: E. M. Gordeeva, Kompozitory "Moguchei kuchki" (Moscow, 1985), p. 31 [back]

  2. See Stasov's reminiscences of Turgenev in: V. G. Fridliand and S. M. Petrov (eds), I. S. Turgenev v vospominaniakh sovremennikov, 2 vols (Moscow, 1983), ii, p. 100 [back]

  3. Ibid., p. 106 [back]

  4. Letter from Balakirev to César Cui, 20 July/ 1 August 1864. Quoted in the notes section of: Ts. A. Kiui, Izbrannye stat'i (Leningrad, 1955), p. 498 [back]

  5. Letter to Pauline Viardot, 24 February/8 March 1871. See: I. S. Turgenev, Polnoe sobranie sochinenii i pisem, 28 vols (Leningrad, 1961-68), Pis'ma, ix, 28. In the original French: "J'y ai trouvé plusieurs adeptes de la nouvelle école musicale russe (pas Cui, malheureusement); mais le grand Balakireff qu'ils reconnaissent pour leur chef, le grand Balakireff a assez mal joué quelques fragments d'une fantasie à orchestre de Rimsky-Korsakoff (vous vous rappelez, on vous a envoyé quelques jolies romances de lui); cette fantasie sur un sujet de légende russe [Sadko], assez bizarre, m'a semblé en effet en avoir de la fantaisie. Puis le grand Balakireff a assez mal joué des réminiscences de Liszt et de Berlioz qui, lui surtout, est pour ces messieurs l'Absolu et l'Idéal. Je crois, après tout, que c'est un homme intelligent. Kein Talent, doch ein Charakter" [back]

  6. As pointed out by Abram Gozenpud in his book on Turgenev and music: I. S. Turgenev. Issledovanie (Saint Petersburg, 1994), p. 90 [back]

  7. Quoted in: E. M. Gordeeva, Kompozitory "Moguchei kuchki" (Moscow, 1985), p. 31 [back]

  8. See: N. A. Rimskii-Korsakov, Letopis' moei muzykal'noi zhizni (1844-1906), 3rd ed. (Moscow, 1926), p. 47 [back]

  9. See Tchaikovsky's article 'A Voice from Moscow's Musical World' (1869) on the Tchaikovsky Research website [back]

  10. Letter from Balakirev to Sergei Bulich, 21 July/3 August 1904. See: Milii Alekseevich Balakirev. Vospominaniia i pis'ma (Leningrad, 1962), p. 263 [back]