no trace of an accent and, moreover, with brilliant eloquence, whereas, in

Laroches view, Rubinstein was quite inarticulate, and although he knew many
languages he spoke none of them perfectlynot even German. In a private
conversation he could express himself in Russian very uently, sometimes nd-
ing felicitous and well-aimed expressions, but the grammar left much to be
desired, and in the coherent presentation of a theoretical subject the defects
showed themselves even more forcefully. What Rubinstein did bring to his pu-
pils was massive practical knowledge, a vast mental outlook, and incredible ex-
perience of composition for a man of thirty. Such qualities gave to his words
an authority that we could not help but feel. The very paradoxes which he rained
down on us, now teasing us, now mocking us, bore the stamp of a person of
genius and of a thinking artist.90
In his orchestration class Rubinstein acknowledged only the orchestra of the
classic composers, that is, the orchestra of Beethoven with the addition of three
trombones and the substitution of chromatic trumpets and horns for natu-
ral ones. He forbade his pupils to use the full orchestra in their exercises: be-
fore allowing them [the pupils] to work with a full orchestra, I would straight-
jacket them into exercises, using the various individual orchestral groups. It is
astonishing how much beauty Beethoven could express in his ve string trios,
Rubinstein declared in Gedankenkorb. Rubinstein once asked Tchaikovsky to
orchestrate Beethovens D minor Piano Sonata, using four different methods:
One of these methods came out in a rened and complicated manner, with a
cor anglais and other such rarities, for which Tchaikovsky immediately received
a dressing down, recalled Laroche.91 He [Rubinstein] was not putting himself
to the trouble of teaching the art of composition to create idiots [pour former
des imbciles]. Rubinsteins disapproval of his pupils methods is best illustrated
by the incident over Tchaikovskys rst major orchestral composition, the Storm
Overture, based on Ostrovskys play Groza. Here were all the ingredients which
were anathema to Rubinstein: the use of the afore-mentioned cor anglais in an
orchestral work (not to mention the harp), a Russian folk melody, a complex
use of harmony and colorful effects. Tchaikovsky was wise in not presenting
the score to Rubinstein himself; when safely out of harms way, he posted it to
Laroche, asking him to deliver it to the formidable director. Laroche recalled:

In the summer of 1864 Pyotr Ilich had to write a large overture, and he himself
chose as a program Ostrovskys The Storm. He picked the most heretical orchestra
that ever was with bass tuba, cor anglais, harp, tremolo in the divided strings, bass
drum, and cymbals. Probably with his characteristic optimism, he hoped that un-
der the ag of a program, these departures from the regime prescribed for him
would pass unpunished.92 As always, he nished his work on time, even a little ear-
lier. I do not remember why, instead of presenting it personally, he sent the score to
me by post, charging me with the task of taking it to Anton Grigoryevich. Rubin-
stein instructed me to see him in a few days to hear his response. Never in my life
have I received such a wigging for my own actions as I had to endure (I remember
it was a ne Sunday morning) for someone elses as on that occasion. With an in-
stinctive humor Rubinstein put the question thus: If you had dared to bring me

The Founding of the Russian Music Society 111