Sheherazade, Op. 35 Composed in 1888 Nikolai Rimsky

SHEHERAZADE, OP. 35 COMPOSED IN 1888

NIKOLAI RIMSKY-KORSAKOV BORN IN TIKHVIN, RUSSIA, MARCH 18, 1844 DIED IN LYUBENSK (NEAR ST. PETERSBURG), JUNE 21, 1908

If Wagner is the father of our contemporary “music drama” and Brahms of the modern symphonic form, then their younger contemporary Rimsky-Korsakov is the father of 20th- century orchestral sound—the undisputed master of a strikingly intuitive idiom that spurred the instrumental innovations of Ravel, Stravinsky, and even Shostakovich. Nowhere is this style more remarkable than in his Sheherazade, the brilliant set of four musical sketches that depict loosely related episodes from The Arabian Nights (also known as A Thousand and One Nights), the series of folk tales that is the source of such characters as Ali Baba, Aladdin, and Sinbad. Rimsky-Korsakov’s instrumental color finds a perfect match in the perfumed exoticism of these stories from the Middle East.

THE COMPOSER SPEAKS Sheherazade was first performed in St. Petersburg on November 3, 1888. In his autobiography, My Musical Life, Rimsky-Korsakov elaborated on the work’s inception:

In the middle of the winter (1887-88), engrossed as I was in my work on Prince Igor and other things, I conceived the idea of writing an orchestral composition on the subject of certain episodes from Sheherazade. I moved with my entire family, early in the summer, to the estate of Glinki-Mavriny. ... During the summer of 1888 I finished Sheherazade and The Bright Holiday. ... In vain, people seek in my suite motifs linked throughout with the same poetic ideas and conceptions. In the majority of cases all these seeming ‘leitmotifs’ are nothing but purely musical material, the themes for symphonic development. These themes thread through all the movements, alternating and intertwining with each other. Appearing as they do each time under different illumination, depicting each time different traits and expressing different moods, the same themes correspond each time to different images, actions, and pictures. In this manner, developing quite freely the musical data that forms a basis of the composition, I had in view the creation of an orchestral suite in four movements—closely knit by the commonality of its motifs yet presenting a kaleidoscope of fairy-tale images and designs of oriental character. Originally I had even intended to label Movement I “Prelude,” II “Ballade,” III “Adagio,” and IV “Finale,” but on the advice of [Anatol] Liadov and others I did not do so. My aversion to fixing a too-definite program on my compositions led me subsequently to do away with even those hints of it which had lain in the headings of each movement. In composing Sheherazade I meant these hints to direct only slightly the listener’s fancy on the path that my own fancy had traveled, and to leave more minute and particular conceptions to the will and mood of each. All I had desired was that the hearer, if he likes my piece as symphonic music, should carry away the impression that it is beyond doubt an oriental narrative of numerous and varied fairy-tale wonders—and not merely four pieces played one after the other and composed on themes common to all four movements. Why then, if that be the case, does my suite bear the name, precisely, of Sheherazade? Because this name and the title The Arabian Nights connote in everyone’s mind the East and fairy-tales; besides, certain details of the musical exposition hint at the fact that all of these are various tales of a single person (who happens to be Sheherazade) entertaining her severe husband.

EXOTIC EASTERN FAIRYTALES “The Sultan Shahriar, convinced of the perfidy and faithlessness of women, vowed to execute each of his wives after the first night.” So begins the preface to the composer’s first edition of his score to Sheherazade. “But the Sultana Sheherazade saved her own life by interesting the Sultan in tales she told him through 1001 nights. Impelled by curiosity, the Sultan continually put off her execution, and at last entirely abandoned his sanguinary resolve. Many marvels did Sheherazade relate to him, citing the verses of poets and the words of songs, weaving tale into tale and story into story.” The preface sets the tone for one of the most dazzlingly colorful and discursive works in the orchestral repertory. Despite Liadov’s suggestion that Rimsky suppress the descriptive titles from the work’s second edition, they continue to “stick,” partly because the music is so evocative that it invites such labels. “The program that guided me in the composition of Sheherazade,” the composer wrote, “consisted of separate, unconnected episodes and pictures from The Arabian Nights, scattered through all four movements of my suite: the Sea and Sinbad’s Ship (Movement I); the Story of Prince Kalander (II); the Young Prince and Princess (III); and the Festival in Baghdad, with the Ship Breaking Up Against a Cliff Surmounted by a Bronze Horseman (IV). The unifying thread consisted of the brief intermezzo in Movement III, written for violin solo and depicting Sheherazade herself, telling her wondrous tales to the stern Sultan.”

A CLOSER LOOK The opening theme of the first movement might represent the Sultan’s booming voice, demanding that Sheherazade begin her stories; the willowy violin solo that follows, then, stands for her voice. The second movement represents the story of the Kalander who turns out to be a nobleman; the Kalanders were sort of itinerant magicians and showmen who appeared at Middle-Eastern courts from time to time. A romantic slow movement (III) relates a love story between the Prince Kamar al-Zanna and Princess Budur. The Finale relates a series of stories: “The Festival at Baghdad,” “The Sea,” “Shipwreck,” and a conclusion. Through the course of the piece one hears the theme representing the Sultan— who was so stern and threatening at the work’s opening—gradually yielding into something sensuous, cheerful, and even loving.

—Paul J. Horsley