“Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here.”
Dante’s Inferno – Canto III: Vestibule of Hell
I love that quote, and it seems to me to be a great opener to a V-Day blog post! I should start by saying that I am a lifelong bachelor, and the more time passes in this state, the more I dislike the farce that is Valentine’s Day. Like most of the people who share my relationship status, it is a nuisance date on the calendar that should be ignored, and I would typically write a tongue-in-cheek rant about the pointless nature of the “holiday.” Instead of the annual rant, I decided to write this article, and I hope it is an enjoyable substitute. Now, I know that V-Day has meaning to some out there, but I am definitely not one of those people. To those of you who are reading this and who enjoy the various rituals around the “holiday,” I would ask you to look past my issues with the day and focus on the beautiful music on offer in this post. I have no reason to “celebrate” something like V-Day, and even if I did, I’m enough of an old-fashioned romantic to have the good sense to celebrate my relationship with someone so special on one or all of the other 364 days in a year. It certainly wouldn’t be on Valentine’s Day if I had any say in the matter.
Now that we have that disclaimer behind us, I should also say that where music is concerned, tragically romantic material is often appealing to me. I’ve heard it said that some of the best art generated by the human mind, heart, and soul often springs from something tragic or otherwise painful. In other cases, great literature might inspire a composer to set said literature to music in one way or another. After all, this sort of programmatic music, particularly in the Romantic Period, eventually led to the development of a little thing we call Film Music today. In Tchaikovsky’s case, he wrote music based on several great works of literature, as shown below:
- The Storm, Op. (posth.) 76 (1864)
- Fatum, Op. 77 (1868)
- Romeo and Juliet, overture-fantasy after Shakespeare, TH 42 (1869–70, r. 1880)
- The Tempest, symphonic fantasia after Shakespeare, Op. 18 (1873)
- Francesca da Rimini, symphonic fantasia after Dante, Op. 32 (1876)
- Hamlet, overture-fantasy, Op. 67a (1889)
- The Voyevoda, Op. (posth.) 78 (1891)
I should also point out that Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky was not the only member of the Tchaikovsky family to set the story of Francesca Da Rimini to music. His bother Modest contributed the libretto to Sergei Rachmaninoff’s opera of the same name. Another item I want to highlight is that Francesca was a real person and not just a character in a story. She was a medieval noblewoman of Ravenna, and she died sometime between 1283 and 1286, murdered by her husband Giovanni Malatesta. This love story is both true and tragic. Before we get into the music, Francesca was the daughter of Guido I da Polenta, lord of the city-state of Ravenna, and due to a war between the Malatesta and Polenta families (and, by extension, the rival city-state of Rimini), Francesca was forced to marry Giovanni as part of a peace agreement. Giovanni Malatesta was the son of Malatesta da Verucchio, the lord of Rimini, and he was also known in Rimini as “Giovanni the Lame,” as he was physically disabled. He had a younger brother, Paolo (known as The Fair), who also lived in Rimini, and over the next ten years, Paolo and Francesca would carry on a secret affair. As will happen, the affair was discovered, and Giovanni took matters into his own hands by slaying both his brother and his wife with the sword.
Interestingly enough, Francesca was an acquaintance of Dante Alighieri, and her heartbreaking circumstances were included in his Divine Comedy. She has one of the first speaking roles in the Inferno portion of the Divine Comedy; her testimony in the Inferno is not just part of the story; it’s one of the few historical accounts we have of her life and tragic end. It’s highly probable that Dante’s knowledge of Francesca came from her nephew, Guido Novello da Polenta, who served as a host to Dante towards the end of the author’s life. As a result of his banishment from Florence and the hospitality of Guido, Dante lived out his days in the very house where Francesca was born.
The Inspiration for the Music
In Inferno, the first of the Divine Comedy‘s three parts, Dante tells how the fictional version of himself travels through the realms of the Afterlife, notably Hell. In this journey, he is guided by the ghost of the Roman poet Virgil. At the story’s beginning, Virgil comes across Dante the Pilgrim (Dante’s title for his fictional self – it helped him differentiate himself as Dante, the Author) in a dark wood where he has been led astray from the “path of righteousness” by his sinful behavior. Virgil helps guide Dante towards the light, but part of the journey takes Dante through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven. Upon their descent into Hell, Dante and Virgil come to the Second Circle, also known as the “Circle of the Lustful.” In this Circle, the actual beginning of Hell, the souls of sinners are punished for all eternity. Here, Dante describes witnessing Minos, a great beast, looking over every soul as it comes before him for judgment. The beast listens to the confessions of each, and from their testimony, Minos then decides which circle the soul should be sent to for their eternal condemnation. While Dante and Virgil watch this process, Minos turns to Dante and advises him to “beware of where you go and to whom you turn.” He goes on to caution Dante against entering the Second Circle, but Virgil intercedes, and they continue on their journey. They next enter a place described as completely dark, “in which there is noise worse than that of a storm at sea.” The air is filled with lamenting, moaning, and shrieking; the spirits are tossed about in the whirlwinds of a never-ending storm. Here, Dante learns that these are the spirits doomed to eternal suffering by “carnal lust.” As various souls blow by, Dante asks Virgil who they were and their history. Virgil answers with their names and stories as he can, and eventually, they come to two souls that appear to be bound together while also not in contact with one another. Dante asks Virgil to speak to the two, and Virgil instructs him to call upon the souls to come to him in the name of Love. Dante does so, and one of the souls expresses gratitude for his pity and wishes him peace. Here’s the exchange between Dante and Francesca from Canto V of Inferno:
Then turning, I to them my speech address’d.
Inferno. Poem by Dante. Canto V
And thus began: “Francesca! your sad fate
Even to tears my grief and pity moves.
But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs,
By what, and how love granted, that ye knew
Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied:
“No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy, when mis’ry is at hand! That kens
Thy learn’d instructor. Yet so eagerly
If thou art bent to know the primal root,
From whence our love gat being, I will do,
As one, who weeps and tells his tale. One day
For our delight we read of Lancelot,
How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no
Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading
Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue
Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point
Alone we fell. When of that smile we read,
The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d
By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er
From me shall separate, at once my lips
All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both
Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day
We read no more.” While thus one spirit spake,
The other wail’d so sorely, that heartstruck
I through compassion fainting, seem’d not far
From death, and like a corpse fell to the ground.
This exchange served as the primary inspiration for the glorious work that followed.
The Music
In early 1876, Pyotr Tchaikovsky began looking ahead for his next project. In a meeting with his brother, Modest, in July of that year, some potential subjects that could be used for a Symphonic Poem were suggested, and among these ideas was the story of Francesca Da Rimini. At one time, Tchaikovsky considered writing an opera around the subject matter, but he abandoned the idea as “unworkable.” The following month, Tchaikovsky was in Paris and wrote the following in a letter to his brother:
“This evening in my coach I read the 4th Canto of the Inferno, and was inflamed with a desire to write a symphonic poem on Francesca“
http://www.en.tchaikovsky-research.net/pages/Francesca_da_Rimini
It wasn’t until the autumn of 1876 before the composer was able to get back to Francesca, but after a visit to Bayreuth (during the Festival), where he saw Richard Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen performed, he wrote of his experience and its possible influence on Francesca: “The comment that I wrote that under the influence of the Nibelungs is very true. I felt it myself when I was working on it. Is it strange that I should be subject to the influence of a work of art which, in general, I find very antipathetic?” Another piece of music that Tchaikovsky reviewed before starting work on Francesca was Franz Liszt’s Dante Symphony, which is based on many of the same thematic elements. While Tchaikovsky enjoyed the symphony, he noted that it had little in the way of invention.
After his time in Bayeruth, Tchaikovsky returned to Moscow, and once he had completed his Slavonic Marches (aka Marche Slave), he worked on Francesca between October and November of 1876. It took only three weeks to complete the work, and he titled it Francesca da Rimini: Symphonic Fantasy after Dante, Op. 32. It is scored for an orchestra consisting of 3 flutes (3rd doubling piccolo), two oboes, English horn, two clarinets (in A), two bassoons + 4 horns (in F), two cornets (in A), two trumpets (in E), three trombones, tuba + 3 timpani, cymbals, bass drum, tam-tam + harp, violins I, violins II, violas, cellos, and double basses (source: http://www.en.tchaikovsky-research.net/pages/Francesca_da_Rimini). As the piece is a Symphonic Poem (or Tone Poem), it doesn’t have clearly defined movements, like the symphonic structure upon which such poems are built. It is written as one long movement: Andante lugubre—Allegro vivo (E minor), typically lasting around 25 minutes in concert performance.
This symphonic poem has an introduction and three parts.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francesca_da_Rimini_(Tchaikovsky)
- In the introduction, the basses and the wind section of the orchestra open in dark tones, suggesting the beginning of Dante’s Inferno, where the author is astray from the right path into somber woods.
- As the music continues into the first section, the horror felt by Dante is portrayed in the music as he walks in deeper and deeper into the first circles of Hell.
- In the second section, the tempo picks up, the narrative takes the audience into the second circle, where Dante finds, amongst others, such as Tristan and Isolde, Paolo Malatesta and Francesca da Rimini (née da Polenta) trapped together in a violent storm, whirled through the air around, violently crushed against ragged stone walls for eternity.
- In the third section, the music subsides, depicting Dante’s request to speak with the doomed lovers (depicted by a solo clarinet), who recount their story of how Francesca was unwittingly married by proxy to Gianciotto Malatesta, Paolo’s older, cruel and unattractive brother; the music continues to depict how they were unable to resist their fleshly attraction for each other and succumbed to their passion while reading a passage of the story of Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot [another pair of equally doomed lovers], depicted by the wind section supported by the strings in the moments of highest passion. The music also depicts the moment of their murder at the hands of Gianciotto, depicted by fast playing bassi and cymbals, followed by sombre horns in a requiem like theme. After their tale is over, the final section starts, depicting the eternal punishment that continues once more, leaving Dante (and the audience) in a state of shock depicted by the ominous tutti of the orchestra.
Based on La Divina Commedia (ca. 1310–14) by Dante Alighieri (ca. 1265–1321). Tchaikovsky wrote out a detailed programme at the start of his manuscript score of the fantasia:
Dante, accompanied by Virgil’s ghost, descends into the second circle of the Hellish abyss. Here the walls echo with cries of despair. In the midst of the Stygian gloom is a fantastic storm. Violent, Hellish whirlwinds carry away tormented souls. Out of the countless spinning earthly spirits, Dante notices two in particular: Francesca and Paolo, who are locked in an embrace. Dante calls out to these tortured souls, and asks them for what terrible crimes they were being punished. Francesca’s spirit, drenched with tears, recounts their pitiful tale. She was in love with Paolo, but against her will she was forced to marry the hateful brother of her beloved, the hunchbacked, twisted tyrant of Rimini. Despite his violent jealousy, he was not able to wrest Francesca’s heart from her passion for Paolo. Together one day they read the story of Lancelot. “We were one”, recounts Francesca. “And after reading this we no longer felt the fear and confusion that had marked our previous meetings. But that one moment destroyed us. By the time we reached Lancelot’s first chance of love, nothing could now part us. In a moment of weakness we openly expressed our clandestine love for one another, throwing ourselves in each others arms”. At this moment Francesca’s husband returned unexpectedly, and stabbed her and Paolo to death. And after telling this, Francesca’s spirit, and that of Paolo, were snatched away in the raging whirlwind. Overwhelmed by the endless suffering, Dante, completely exhausted, falls dead” — Inferno. Poem by Dante. Canto V.
The author’s programme was also printed in the concert programme for the first performance of the fantasia in Moscow, but not in the published score, which was prefaced only by a few lines and a short quotation from Dante’s poem.
http://www.en.tchaikovsky-research.net/pages/Francesca_da_Rimini
Tchaikovsky dedicated the work to friend and former pupil Sergei Taneyev. The first performance of Francesca was in Moscow in 1877 at a concert put on by the Russian Musical Society and was conducted by Nikolai Rubenstein. From a critical perspective, the new composition was very well received. The music critic Herman Laroche (who had initially encouraged Tchaikovsky to pursue an opera instead) referred to Francesca Da Rimini as “extraordinarily brilliant with blinding play of the orchestral colors, inexhaustibly rich and incessantly changing; it holds the listener from beginning to end as if held sway by some hallucination.” After a concert performance at Cambridge in June of 1893 (conducted by the composer), fellow composer Camille Saint-Saëns wrote, “Bristling with difficulties, Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini, which lacks neither pungent flavors nor fireworks, shrinks from no violence. In it, the gentlest and most kindly of men has unleashed a fearful tempest and has had no more pity for his performers and listeners than Satan for the damned. But such was the composer’s talent and supreme skill that one takes pleasure in this damnation and torture.” At the time of Tchaikovsky’s death later in that same year, Francesca had gone on to become one of the composer’s most famous works, and while it isn’t performed quite as often today, it’s still a symphonic gem in the repertoire just waiting to be unearthed once more.
Recordings and Performances
Now, we come to my favorite part of these articles – recordings or performances of the work that I’ve enjoyed.
The first I want to mention isn’t one that you can pick up on Amazon, but it is one that sticks in my mind. My “home orchestra” is the Erie Philharmonic, and back in June 2020, I wrote the following for a blog posting:
“Any person who attends a Phil concert could take the United States Postal Service creed as their own, for they too seem to hold to the statement that “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers [concertgoers] from the swift completion of their appointed rounds [concert attendance].” Anyone who lives in the Erie area knows that we can see all four seasons within a day, and concert nights are no different. It takes quite the weather system to prevent the Erie Phil from performing, and it takes the City closing downtown to keep our audience away from their seats. It’s hard to pinpoint a particular experience with the Phil over the years as a favorite. The whole of the 100th anniversary season was remarkable, and the season I got to be in the Erie Philharmonic Chorus (2011-2012) was a personal high watermark. Still, if I had to pick one concert or musical performance that rises above the rest, it was one that happened not long ago on a dark and stormy night.
As I mentioned earlier, Erie Phil concerts happen in all sorts of weather, but one night, in particular, stands out in recent memory. The evening was blustery, to say the least, and a piece I had never heard was on the program. That piece was Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini (Symphonic Fantasy after Dante, Op. 32). The work is a symphonic poem that tells the tragic tale of Francesca da Rimini, a beautiful woman who was immortalized in Dante’s Divine Comedy. In the fifth canto of Inferno, Dante, the narrator, encounters the spirit of Francesca, and Tchaikovsky’s work puts her story to some of the most beautifully tragic music you’ll ever hear. In the story, Francesca falls in love with the handsome brother of her cruel husband, and it was through this affair that she came to be a spirit trapped in the depths of Hell, which is where she meets Dante. Her husband discovered the relationship and killed both Francesca and her lover, and Tchaikovsky masterfully captured this tale in music. If you’ve never heard it, I would highly recommend giving it a listen. The only recording that I have heard that comes close to what was performed at The Warner that night was recorded live by Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic.
Concerning the weather I mentioned earlier, there is a depiction of hell-winds in the work that are primarily played by the string section of the orchestra. As the piece reaches its climax, the weather outside The Warner got in on the action that was taking place on stage. The orchestra was playing with particular vigor that night. In the final moments of the piece, as the orchestra played with fiery energy almost not to be believed possible, Daniel Meyer was like a man possessed. He was all over the podium, leaping from one corner to the other, hair flying in all directions. He and the orchestra expertly captured what was going on in the music. The winds on stage howled with incredible force and the ones outside, not to be outdone, didn’t just howl, they screamed and shook the building so that we, the audience, could hear the rigging over the stage rattling above the symphonic din! The effect was electric! As Maestro Meyer and the orchestra brought the piece crashing, with stunning precision, to its dramatic conclusion, the audience roared its approval before the last note had a chance to fade. That spectacular moment was one example of many over the years as to why it is essential to experience a live orchestral performance.”
Written by me in June of 2020 – editted for this article in February 2024
After the concert I mentioned, I searched for a suitable recording that might come close to what I’d just heard. I was surprised at how difficult a task it turned out to be as, despite its performance success during Tchaikovsky’s lifetime, the work isn’t recorded or performed as often as some other of his works. Still, through this search, I learned of the many and varied interpretations of the composition. Still, one recording that came pretty close to Daniel Meyer and the Erie Philharmonic’s performance was this one by Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic (note – this recording was taken from a live performance):
I still think that Maestro Meyer and the Erie Phil were better, but Bernstein and the NY Phil will do in a pinch. Buy the CD here!
Another delightful recording I found was performed by the Russian National Orchestra under the baton of Mikhail Pletnev.
One of the key elements I look for in a Francesca recording is how the hell winds are depicted. Another is how the Love Theme is performed by a solo clarinet. I’m sure that when most people think of a love theme and Tchaikovsky, they think of Romeo and Juliet, but this one in Francesca is not to be outdone or forgotten. Both recordings so far feature a powerful string section playing as if competing with the hell winds, and the effect is tremendous! In Pletnev’s recording, in particular, good speed is maintained without rushing the beautiful music at all. Here’s the CD set where you can hear the recording.
Finally, the conductor/orchestra pairing that put up one of the greatest recordings out there is none other than Leopold Stokowski and the New York Philharmonic (under their summer performing name of the time – Stadium Symphony Orchestra Of New York). Pick up the recording here.
As you’d expect from Stokowski, he sticks close to Tchaikovski’s original score and maintains a quick pace throughout. Much like the other two I’ve listed, he doesn’t rush the music either, but it certainly doesn’t drag. Everything about this one is gorgeous! There’s a lushness to the strings that I can’t quite describe, and the conclusion to this recording blew me away the first time I heard it. I listened to it over again, just because, and for science! Yes, that will do.
https://www.prestomusic.com/classical/works/32961–tchaikovsky-francesca-da-rimini-op-32/browse
Well, while I’m sure I could come up with more, I think I’ll stop here. The link above is full of other great recordings. Please check them out!
If Francesca comes up in a program by your local orchestra or even one that isn’t local, I’d highly recommend checking it out if you can. As I’ve said before on this blog, there’s no substitute for hearing a piece in person. This work is one of many that lends itself well to being heard live due to the sheer amount of drama being portrayed, and it features one of Tchaikovsky’s classic love themes. While it’s not as famous as Tchanikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet, it is very enjoyable nonetheless. Until next time, dear reader, Happy Singles Awareness Day! (You thought I was going to cave and wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day, didn’t you?)
Additional Reading
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francesca_da_Rimini_(Tchaikovsky)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inferno_(Dante)
https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/d/the-divine-comedy-inferno/summary-and-analysis/canto-v
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francesca_da_Rimini
Additional Watching