The final quality for symphonic art is, after all, less the chance flash
of inspiration than a big view, a broad sympathy, a deep well of feeling
that comes only with great character.
Nay, there is a kind of peril in the symphony for the poet of uncertain
balance from the betrayal of his own temper despite his formal plan.
Through all the triumph of a climax as in the first movement of the
Fourth Symphony, we may feel a subliminal sadness that proves how subtle
is the expression in music of the subjective mood. There is revealed not
the feeling the poet is conscious of, but, below this, his present self,
and in the whole series of his works, his own personal mettle. What the
poet tries to say is very different from what he does say. In a
symphony, as in many a frolic, the tinge of latent melancholy will
appear.
_SYMPHONY NO. 4_
Reverting to a great and fascinating question as to the content of art,
we may wonder whether this is not the real tragic symphony of
Tschaikowsky, in the true heroic sense, in a view where the highest
tragedy is not measured by the wildest lament. There may be a stronger
sounding of lower depths with a firmer touch (with less of a conscious
kind of abandon),--whence the recoil to serene cheer will be the
greater.
There is surely a magnificent aspiration in the first Allegro, a
profound knell of destiny and a rare ring of triumph. Underlying all is
the legend of trumpets, _Andante sostenuto_ (3/4), with a dim touch
[Music: _Andante sostenuto_
(Horns and bassoons doubled in 8va.
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