IN E MINOR_[A]

[Footnote A: Sergei Rachmaninow, born in 1873.]

_I._--The symphony begins with the sombre temper of modern Russian art;
at the outset it seems to throb with inmost feeling, uttered in subtlest
design.

The slow solemn prelude _(Largo)_ opens with the

[Music: _Largo_
(Strings)]

chief phrase of the work in lowest strings to ominous chords, and treats
it with passionate stress until the main pace of Allegro.

[Music: _Espr_. (Violins)
(Wood and horns)]

But the germ of prevailing legend lies deeper. The work is one of the
few symphonies where the whole is reared on a smallest significant
phrase. The first strain (of basses) is indeed the essence of the
following melody and in turn of the main Allegro theme. But, to probe
still further, we cannot help feeling an ultimate, briefest motive of
single ascending tone against intrinsic obstacle, wonderfully expressed
in the harmony, with a mingled sense of resolution and regret. And of
like moment is the reverse descending tone. Both of these symbols
reappear throughout the symphony, separate or blended in larger melody,
as principal or accompanying figures. Aside from this closer view that
makes clear the tissue of themal discussion, the first phrase is the
main melodic motto, that is instantly echoed in violins with piquant
harmony. In the intricate path of deep musing we feel the mantle of a
Schumann who had himself a kind of heritage from Bach. And thus we come
to see the national spirit best and most articulate through the medium
of ancient art.

The main Allegro melody not so much grows out of the Largo prelude, as
it is of the same fibre and

[Music: _Allegro moderato_
4 times
_molto expr._ (Violins)
(Wood with _tremolo_ strings)
(Strings with clarinets and bassoons)]

identity. The violins sing here against a stately march of harmonies.
Such is the fine coherence that the mere heralding rhythm is wrought of
the first chords of the Largo, with their descending stress. And the
expressive melody is of the same essence as the original sighing motto,
save with a shift of accent that gives a new fillip of motion. In this
movement at least we see the type of real symphony, that throbs and
sings and holds us in the thrall of its spirit and song.

Moments there are here of light and joy, quickly drooping to the darker
mood. Following the free flight of main melody is a skein of quicker
figures, on aspirant pulse, answered by broad, tragic desce