Pictures at an Exhibition

Modest Petrovich Mussorgsky

Pictures Of A Troubled Genius

John Schauer
Associate Director of Communications, Publications
Ravinia Festival

Born on March 21, 1839, in Karevo, Russian composer Modest Petrovich Mussorgsky has become the poster-boy for the misunderstood genius whose work is derided in his own lifetime but resurrected and appreciated by later generations.

Pictures at an Exhibition, his only large work for piano, is in some ways typical of the bulk of his compositional output: now considered a repertoire standard, it wasn’t published until five years after his death and was subsequently ignored for nearly half a century, winning popularity only after it was arranged by another composer—in this case, Maurice Ravel, who created an orchestral transcription in 1923.

[Van Cliburn Competition winner Noboyuki Tsujii will perform the piano version on June 3 in the Martin Theatre, as will Russian keyboard wizard Vladimir Feltsman on July 3; Ravinia Music Director James Conlon will conduct the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in a performance of the Ravel orchestration on July 8 in the pavilion.]

Mussorgsky is also emblematic of the tragic consequences of alcoholism, which prevented him from finishing the majority of his works and ultimately led to his premature death at the age of 42. The most famous image of him, a portrait by I.E. Repin painted only weeks before Mussorgsky’s death, vividly depicts the ravages of his addiction.

Today he is most highly regarded for his songs and operas, in which he developed a new form of declamation that faithfully replicated the cadences of actual speech; his greatest achievement is the opera Boris Godunov. Although Mussorgsky finished not one but two different versions of this work (the only opera he actually completed), it did not gain acceptance into the international operatic repertoire until it was revised and re-orchestrated by his colleague Rimsky-Korsakov, another member of the “Mighty Handful” of Russian nationalist composers.

Although the title character of Boris Godunov was a tsar of Russia, in the opinion of many the true protagonist is the people of Russia, the common folk with which Mussorgsky so strongly identified and so vividly depicted in his songs. According to an autobiographical sketch that he wrote in the last months of his life, he first developed a predilection for Russian folk-life through the fairy tales that were told to him by his nurse. Although he was the son of a prosperous landowner, Mussorgsky was descended from peasant stock—his paternal grandfather had been a serf—and a burning desire to depict the reality of peasant life became a ruling priority for the rest of his life.

Palace Square, St. Petersburg, Russia

He displayed prodigious gifts as a pianist, receiving his first lessons from his mother and later studying privately, but he seems not to have pursued music as a profession, instead enrolling in the Cadet School of the Guards in St. Petersburg. Later, at age 17, he entered the Preobrajensky Guards, a prestigious regiment that was less a military force than a congregation of hard-drinking aristocrats from whom Mussorgsky acquired his fatal attraction to intoxication.

During his first months with the guards he made the acquaintance of Alexander Borodin, who later recorded his first impressions of Modest: “M.P. was at that time quite boyish, very elegant, the very picture of an officer; brand-new, close-fitting uniform, shapely feet, sleek, pomaded hair, immaculate nails and aristocratic hands. Refined, aristocratic manners, conversation the same, sprinkled with French phrases, rather affected. Some traces of foppishness, but very moderate. Extraordinarily polite and well-bred. The ladies made a fuss over him.”

Within a year he had met the composers Alexander Dargomyzhsky and César Cui, who in turn introduced him to Mili Balakirev and Vladimir Stasov. Though not a composer himself, Stasov was a respected critic, historian and champion of the nationalist movement in the arts; as such he became a powerful influence on the composers who would later form the “Mighty Handful” under the leadership of Balakirev. It was Balakirev, however, to whom Mussorgsky turned for musical instruction, but his studies consisted primarily of performing four-hand piano arrangements of Beethoven’s symphonies, with no formal training in harmony or counterpoint, important components of composition that Mussorgsky never really mastered. Nonetheless, he tried his hand at composing small pieces for piano and vocal songs.

Portrait of Composer Nikolai Andreyevich Rimsky-Korsakov.

In 1858 Mussorgsky resigned from the guards to pursue music full-time, and by 1861 he was part of Balakirev’s circle along with Cui and Rimsky-Korsakov. Though all of them were essentially amateurs, there seemed to be agreement within the circle that, while he was a competent singer and pianist, Mussorgsky was most lacking in compositional skill. In 1863 Stasov wrote to Balakirev, “What is there for me in Mussorgsky? . . . I didn’t hear from him a single idea or a single word expressed with real profundity of understanding, with the profundity of a raptured, moved soul. Everything about him is flabby and colorless. To me he seems a perfect idiot.”

By the end of that year, financial difficulties forced Mussorgsky to take a civil service job, toiling in the engineering department of the Ministry of Communications. He had already joined a commune, sharing a flat with five other young intellectuals who reinforced in each other an obsession with “artistic truth,” through which art was to be subordinated to life. He began and abandoned work on an opera based on Flaubert’s Salammbô but did complete several songs that bore testament to his flair for ironic comedy and musical satire. One of them, “The Seminarist,” so shocked the censors with its “blasphemous” depiction of the erotic musings of a theological student, that he was denied permission to publish it. Other examples include “You Drunken Sot!” in which a woman chastises her inebriated husband; and “Darling Savishna,” which poignantly portrays the plight of a crippled village idiot who attempts to express his love for a beautiful woman.

Mussorgsky once wrote, “It is the people I want to depict, sleeping or waking, eating and drinking, I have them constantly in my mind’s eye; again and again they rise before me in all their reality—huge, unvarnished, with no tinsel.” His drive to reproduce naturalistic speech resulted in his using irregular and even multiple rhythms. His lack of knowledge of the principals of tonal harmony led him to employ disjoined blocks of harmony, unusual intervals, abrupt modulations and free dissonances that, while they made sense to him, befuddled his own colleagues.

Mussorgsky’s emotional crisis over his mother’s death exacerbated his drinking problem, culminating in an attack of delirium tremens and his departure from the commune, after which he moved in with his brother. By autumn of 1866 he returned to St. Petersburg and the group that had only recently taken up the name the “Mighty Handful”; by 1866-67 he had become more closely acquainted with Rimsky-Korsakov, with whom he would eventually share an apartment and at whose wedding he served as best man.

In his posthumously published memoir, My Musical Life, Rimsky admitted some admiration for Mussorgsky’s songs, but added that “His ideal style lacked a suitable crystal-like finish and graceful form. This he lacked because he had no knowledge of harmony and counterpoint. At first Balakirev’s circle ridiculed these needless sciences, and then declared them beyond Mussorgsky. And so he went through life without them and consoled himself by regarding his ignorance as a virtue and the technique of others as routine and conservatism.”

In 1868 Mussorgsky embarked upon another operatic project, a setting of Gogol’s comedy The Marriage, but this went no further than a vocal score of the first act. It was while he was still working on that aborted venture that he met V.V. Nikosky, an authority on the works of Pushkin who suggested that Modest compose on opera based on the poet’s play dealing with the life of Boris Godunov, who had ruled Russia as tsar from 1598 to 1605. Today hailed as the pinnacle of Russian music-drama, Mussorgsky’s opera was rejected by the Musical-Theater Committee of the Imperial Theaters when he submitted it in 1871. By June of the following year he had made extensive revisions and additions to the score in accordance with the criticisms of the committee, which nonetheless also rejected the revised version. Through private readings of the score and personal connections, Mussorgsky did see the work finally premiered in 1874—the year he composed Pictures at an Exhibition and the year that Rimsky-Korsakov identified as “the beginning of Mussorgsky’s decay,” a process he describes in his memoir:

The most famous image of him, a portrait by I.E. Repin painted only weeks before Mussorgsky’s death

“With the production of Boris the gradual decadence of its highly gifted author had begun. Flashes of powerful creativity continued for a long time, but his mental logic was growing dim, slowly and gradually . . . His friends and companions, Borodin, Cui and I, still loved him as before and admired whatever was good in his compositions, but we took critical measure of much else of his. The press . . . scolded him continually. Under these circumstances, his craving for cognac and desire to lounge in taverns till the small hours grew stronger day by day . . . Though still keeping up friendly relations with Cui and Borodin as well as with me, Mussorgsky regarded me with a certain suspicion. My studies in harmony and counterpoint, which had begun to absorb me, did not please him at all.”

In early 1875 Mussorgsky began composing the song-cycle Songs and Dances of Death, another of the few works he would finish (two additional operas, Khovanshchina, begun in 1872, and Sorochintsy Fair, begun in 1874, would be left unfinished). He made use of a three-month leave from his government post in 1879 to make a provincial tour with contralto Darya Leonova, an old friend, performing her piano accompaniments and playing keyboard transcriptions from his own operas. He appeared with her again the following year, having lost his government job, and taught briefly at a music school she started in St. Petersburg.

It was in Leonova’s house that he suffered a series of epileptic fits brought on by his alcoholism in February 1881, after which he was taken to a military hospital. Rimsky-Korsakov describes Mussorgsky’s last days: “On learning of the misfortune that had befallen Mussorgsky, we—Borodin, Stasov, myself and many others—began to visit the patient . . . He was frightfully feeble, had greatly changed, and had turned gray. Rejoicing at our visits, he occasionally talked with us altogether normally; yet suddenly he would pass into a mad delirium. Thus things went for some time; at last, at night, March 28, he died, apparently from paralysis of the heart. His powerful organism proved to have been completely undermined by alcohol.”

The unfinished autobiographical note Mussorgsky started in the last months of his life, for a music dictionary that was under preparation, sums up his artistic accomplishments rather accurately. Writing of himself in the third person, he candidly states, “Mussorgsky cannot be classed with any existing group of musicians, either by the character of his compositions or by his musical views. The formula of his artistic profession of faith may be explained by his view, as a composer, of the task of art: art is a means of communicating with people, not an aim in itself. This guiding principle has defined the whole of his creative activity.”


ContinueMussorgsky’s Music After His Death