SIBELIUS AND TURKU

Over the following decades, Sibelius’s career and life were based in Helsinki, but his growing reputation as a composer and conductor led him to performing engagements around the country. His first appearances as a conductor in Turku were on 15 and 17 February 1894. These concerts were held at the Fire Brigade House (now the VPK House) and in the Great Hall of the Academy, and the programme included Sibelius’s En saga op. 9, completed two years earlier, and the eight-movement ‘Suite on historical motifs’, which included the Karelia incidental music that Sibelius had recently written for a lottery held by the Viipuri Student Association at the University in Helsinki.

These works were never heard again in that guise: Sibelius revised En saga in 1902, and the Karelia music ended up as what is now known as the separate Karelia Overture op. 10 and the three-movement Karelia Suite op. 11. The latter of the two concerts also featured the only outings of arrangements for strings of the third movement of the String Quartet in B flat major op. 4 as Scherzo and of two piano pieces amalgamated into Impromptu. The orchestra was evidently understaffed: the critic writing for the Åbo Underrättelser newspaper commended the musicians, even though “it would have been even better if the strings had had more personnel, as they were unable to acquit themselves in the best possible way. The difficulties the orchestra had to surmount were not inconsiderable, because Mr Sibelius is not one to shy away from difficulties.”^[8]

The programme of the first of the two concerts apparently contained an even greater rarity. According to the programme leaflets, on 15 February there was a performance of two movements from Petr Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings in C major op. 48 instead of Sibelius’s Scherzo and Impromptu for strings. This is the only known instance of Sibelius conducting music by any other composer, except perhaps in teaching contexts. It was scarcely a coincidence that it was Tchaikovsky who was thus honoured. “I know that there is much of the same in that man as there is in me,” said Sibelius of his late colleague in 1900.^[9]

Three years later, on 29 and 30 November 1897, Sibelius returned to Turku with two movements from the Lemminkäinen suite op. 22 that would go on to become classics – Tuonelan joutsen [Swan of Tuonela] and Lemminkäisen paluu [Lemminkäinen’s Return] – a minor orchestral piece titled Vårsång [Spring song] op. 16 and the subsequently long-neglected Skogsrået [The Wood-Nymph] op. 15a. The latter, in its original guise, is a historical curiosity, being a melodrama for reciter, piano, strings and two horns, possibly inspired by the natural horns owned by Uncle Pehr. Later adapted by Sibelius into an orchestral work, it retains the dominant sound of hunting horns in its opening measures.

Åbo Underrättelser heaped praise on the tone poems for the “brilliant evidence of the extraordinary artistry of Mr Sibelius, since in melodic, harmonic and contrapuntal aspects alike they offer such curious and new features that the audience followed each measure with ever-growing interest.”^[10] The critic writing for the Åbo Tidning newspaper had apparently heard rumours of the young composer’s revolutionary nature, since he wrote that the audience had been “prepared to hear one thing or another that – to put it bluntly – would have amounted to a scandal. There was no scandal, and instead we witnessed a glorious triumph by the composer[.]”^[11]

For the concerts that Sibelius was to conduct in Turku in April 1900, Sibelius wrote a new piece which, strangely, then disappeared from sight for more than a century. A reading of the concert programmes led historians to the conclusion that the ‘Overture’ conducted by Sibelius had been merely the brief, 3-minute introduction to his opera Jungfrun i tornet [The Maiden in the Tower] (JS 101), completed in 1896. It was not until the 2010s that conductor Tuomas Hannikainen realised what exactly it was that had been performed in Turku on that occasion. The annotations made by Sibelius in the score and orchestral parts of the opera clearly demonstrate how he stitched together orchestral passages across the opera to form an independent 10-minute concert piece. This Concert Overture, revived by the Avanti! Chamber Orchestra in 2021, can justly be regarded as a landmark work on a par with Lemminkäinen and a prime example of Sibelius’s output in the 1890s.

Why this overture distilled from the opera was never performed again (except possibly for a repeat performance in Oulu soon after the premiere) is a mystery. It certainly cannot have been because of how the audience in Turku responded. Composer Väinö Pesola later colourfully reminisced in his native Turku dialect about the occasion:

“Us got a bit of a flavour of concerts out in th’ wide world when Sibelius came an’ conducted a concert of his pieces. Us were too poor to afford to buy tickets, an’ you couldn’ get in with free passes, so us loitered out on th’ street, watchin’ sweet-scented ladies an’ top-hatted gentlemen arrivin’ in carriages and enterin’ th’ hall. An’ outside th’ hall us hung by th’ windows so’s we could hear some of the louder toots from inside. An’ th’ next day it were so sad to read inna paper what a fun concert it’d been.”^[12]

The critics were well pleased. The Uusi Aura newspaper praised the suite of incidental music to the play Kung Kristian II [King Christian II] and the suite now known as Scènes historiques op. 25, whose concluding movement at that time was the inspiring ‘Finland awakes’ that later came to be known as Finlandia op. 26. The “audience was greatly pleased with the skilled performance of these works and by their often restful mood”.”^[13] The final number, Atenarnes sång [Song of the Athenians], performed by a large choir of men and boys, was noted by Åbo Underrättelser as “attracting attention. There was a great deal of youthful enthusiasm in the glowing crowd of singers assembling on the stage to present a lyre of flowers to the composer in tribute. And when the hundred voices rang out with the orchestra in this inspiring song, many in the audience were brought to tears. The song was encored immediately – and the ‘Athenians’ acquitted themselves honourably again.”^[14]

In the early years of the new century, Sibelius often returned to Turku to conduct concerts. In a landmark programme on 13 and 14 December 1902, Turku audiences heard a symphony by Sibelius for the first time – not the Second Symphony, which he had just completed, but the two-year-old Symphony no. 1 in E minor op. 39. As the work was scored for a large orchestra, the Turku Musical Society had to be augmented with members of the Helsinki Philharmonic, and the other works on the programme called for a choir: Impromptu to a poem by Viktor Rydberg op. 19 and Snöfrid op. 29. “The choir is small but quite good,”^[15] the composer wrote in a letter to Aino dated at Hotel Phoenix.

The critics were, again, well pleased. The critic writing for Uusi Aura waxed quite lyrical: “The main number was the celebrated Symphony in E minor, performed now in Turku for the first time. As difficult as it is at first hearing to comprehend and appreciate as grand a masterpiece as this, where gigantic musical torrents at times reach for the heights with mighty crashes and at times subside into a soft, nostalgic hum, one must nevertheless even upon a single hearing marvel and enthuse at the passionate, unbridled force of imagination that appears in the first Allegro energico movement and in the magnificent finale, and on the other hand at the utterly Finnish melancholy, by turns wistful and dejected, that appears as if lit by flickering lightning in the wonderfully lovely Andante cantabile.”^[16]

Symphony no. 2 op. 43 came to Turku two years later, on 26 March 1904, but only the finale was performed on that occasion. What was performed in full on that occasion was the fiendishly difficult original version of the Violin Concerto in D minor op. 47, premiered only a month earlier, with Viktor Nováček as soloist. Sibelius’s youthful En saga returned to Turku in its revised and final version.

Received with mixed emotions at its premiere in Helsinki, the Violin Concerto was more appreciated by Turku audiences; after all, as Uusi Aura wrote, it was “a pioneering and original musical work in this respect”.^[17] Åbo Underrättelser was familiar with the controversy in Helsinki and stood up for Sibelius: “Having heard this composition, one must conclude that several listeners must have failed to fully understand it, as it is a hyper-modern violin concerto where the violin does not dominate over a relatively simple orchestral accompaniment – as in violin concertos of bygone days – but forms a polyphonic texture with the orchestra, where the orchestra as a whole and many of the instruments in it actually have more to say than the solo violin.”^[18]

The orchestra was obviously understaffed, as in his letters home the anxious composer complained about the lack of a 2nd Flute and Tuba. By contrast, the social life in Turku was lively: Sibelius was regularly hosted during his concert visits by Walter von Konow, a childhood friend and now the Superintendent of Turku Castle, and his wife. Drink was often consumed in copious amounts, lending significance to a remark made by Sibelius in a letter to his wife dated in Turku in 1902: “I shan’t be carousing! So don’t worry!”^[19] Before the concert in 1904, the composer reported that he had joined the eccentric linguist and all-round man of culture Sigurd Wetterhoff-Asp “for a bath” and “to drink mead”.^[20]

On 6 and 7 November 1907, Sibelius brought to Turku his Symphony no. 3 in C major op. 52, the tone poem Pohjolan tytär [Pohjola’s Daughter] op. 49 and the incidental music to Belsazars gästabud [Belshazzar’s Feast] op. 51. The new symphony dazzled the critic writing for Åbo Underrättelser: “Sibelius’s Symphony no. 3 is one of the most wonderful symphonies – if not the most wonderful – ever written, including the works of the greatest symphonist of all, Beethoven.”^[21]

At the time, Sibelius was much in demand as a conductor of his music abroad. His occasional visits to Turku were due to the role of the city at the time as a transport hub: the usual route to Sweden and onward to the other Nordic countries involved travelling by ship from Turku to Stockholm. Travel was not as expeditious as it is today: in November 1912, Sibelius reported to Aino that he had spent “one day in Turku because of my passport. I was alone and meditated.”^[22]

At the turn of February to March in 1913, Sibelius again arrived in Turku for concerts, conducting his most recently completed tone poems In memoriam op. 59, Dryadi [The Dryad] op. 45/1 and Yöllinen ratsastus ja auringonnousu [Night Ride and Sunrise] op. 55. Though by now a celebrated composer, he was surprisingly doubtful about his successes; in November 1912, he wrote in his diary: “Am uncertain about Turku. I don’t think people will come.” The diary entry after the concerts reveals his relief: “Successful concerts in Turku on the 28th and the 1st.”^[23]

The greatest musical triumph enjoyed by Jean Sibelius in Turku must have been the premiere of the first revised version of his Symphony no. 5 in E flat major op. 82 on his 51st birthday on 8 December 1916 (with a repeat concert on 10 December 1916). This revolutionary work, which in its original version was still cast in the traditional four-movement scheme, bothered the composer all through the autumn: “Am continuing to revise Symphony V. And in a hurry again. But – it must be made good.”^[24] The end result unveiled a unique amalgamation of first movement and scherzo, which the audience in Turku was the first in the world to witness.

The importance of this revision was not lost on the Turku Musical Society, as the programme leaflet notes that this was the “first performance” of the Symphony. On the other hand, the “first performance” note was also attached to Rakastava [The Lover] for strings, which had actually been performed at Sibelius’s previous concerts in Turku in 1913! En saga was proving to be a perennial favourite, being performed now for the third time under the composer’s baton in Turku. The critic writing as F.I. in the Turun Sanomat newspaper was favourably inclined: “The Fifth Symphony, with its rich, methodically and masterfully developed content, kept the minds of the listeners engaged from the first to the last note. Its morning-mood opening progresses through mists and conflicts into a noontime joie de vivre where everything, even nature itself, rings with a happy and care-free sound.” The orchestra was also commended, with slight reservations: “The occasional mishaps and errors were understandable in view of the difficult and challenging tasks faced by the orchestra in these concerts.”^[25]

The Turku Musical Society had already paid tribute to Sibelius on the occasion of his 50th birthday one year earlier by inviting him to become the Society’s first ever honorary member. This was now celebrated with a banquet at the Hamburger Börs hotel, and the composer’s evident enjoyment can be seen in his diary: “Concert in Turku – rapturous reception.” He was also delighted to be reunited with his long-standing friend and patron who had moved to Turku: “Extremely interesting moments with Axel Carpelan, he is a wonderful combination of ‘head + heart”!”^[26] Carpelan revisited the Symphony in a letter dated 15 December 1916: “We were buoyed by the heady feeling from your concerts for a long time thereafter. Everyone is all enchantment and admiration. I still hear the sounds of your ‘Fifth’ in my ears, the richest, most natural and beautiful of any nature-themed symphonies since Ludwig the Great.”^[27]

Sibelius would return only once more to conduct his music in Turku. He was commissioned to write a cantata for the inauguration of Åbo Akademi University, setting a poem by Jarl Hemmer. This caused him no little grief in early 1919: “The cantata bothers me, not least because, according to the letter I received today from [Karl] Ekman [conductor of the Turku Musical Society], the musical resources available in Turku are hopeless.”^[28] The orchestra in post-war Turku was in a sorry state. As an example, there were no oboes at all, and their parts had to be played on clarinets.

As Sibelius delivered the score to the cantata Jordens sång [Song of the Earth] op. 93 to the orchestra in February 1919, Sibelius met Axel Carpelan for what would be the last time. In his diary, he relished the “wonderful time” he had spent with him and also recorded attending an evidently pleasant dinner at the home of Edward Westermarck, Rector of Åbo Akademi University, at Ispoinen: “Sparkling Hoch etc. Life to the fullest.”^[29] Sibelius promised that he would see Carpelan a second time during his visit to Turku but never did and chided himself for this in a letter: “Unfortunately, my shameful and anxious appearance disgusted myself to such an extent that I did not wish to subject you to a second encounter.” Whatever it was that had happened in Turku, Axel addressed the matter in his next letter: “Janne! Do not forget that Turku is a small town. Do not smoke – it will harm you; also do not drink – it will have the same effect; and it may also make it difficult for your friends to work in your favour just now. I will let you know later what I mean by this.”^[30] In his diary, Sibelius marvelled at how “truly wonderful” the letter was and dismissed his behaviour with the curt entry: “Social blunders in Turku!”^[31]

Only one month later, Axel passed away after a serious illness, and Sibelius was devastated. In May, he wrote: “That wretched Turku cantata and its performance! After all, those who wanted me there were my friends, they have helped me with words and actions. And there’s the memory of Axel Carpelan – he wanted and desired this.”^[32]

The inauguration ceremony of Åbo Akademi University on 11 and 12 October 1919 was a solemn occasion. The composer’s experience was a positive one: “Cantata attained great success in Turku. Unforgettable feast. Famous Scandinavian scientists were easily approachable and pleasant. Dinners, lunches, etc. All unique.”^[33] If he had previously had any regrets about partying hard, he was now back up to speed. According to Swedish journalist Kjell Strömberg, a convocation at the Hamburger Börs led to “an improvised, highly literary and musical symposium in the maestro’s hotel room. It did not end until the small hours, and the rest of us were quite tired, as there was a never-ending supply of drink. But our brilliant host was untiring in relating anecdotes from along his career. Finally, he sat down at the grand piano – which had been brought to the room just in case – and played for us the fantastic finale of his Fifth Symphony, which he had just completed, and at times sang along at the top of his lungs.”^[34]

After that, Sibelius never conducted a concert in Turku again, but Werner Karsten, who had rehearsed the choir for the cantata Jordens sång, persuaded him to write a new piece for Karsten’s male choir Musices Amantes. In his diary, Sibelius wrote: “Wrote ‘Liknelse’ [actually ‘Likhet’, Likeness] for M.A. in Turku. A male quartet in the good old style – I enjoy the pathos of it.”^[35] A rather more prosaic motivation emerges in the letter that Sibelius sent to Karsten: “Honoured friend! Please find enclosed my new composition. I hope it brings pleasure to you and to your handsome choir. – I hope you will not forget about those cigars that I found so unforgettable.”^[36]

Unfortunately, Karsten was ill and unable either to conduct the new work or to address the issue of the cigar delivery. In February 1922, however, he wrote: “As for the cigars, I will return to the matter later, but so that you will not remain completely deprived of Turku cigars, I shall send you 4 packs of 25 each by mail. I managed to obtain one pack of ‘cabinet’, and the rest are ‘Rita’, which is not to be dismissed as a ‘dinner cigar’. In any case, I hope they are to your taste.”^[37] Eventually Karsten got his strength back for conducting the choir, and Likhet (JS 121) was finally premiered at the Old Academy Hall in Turku on 13 March 1926, more than four years after it was completed.

Of all of Sibelius’s ground-breaking masterpieces, the Fifth Symphony was eventually not premiered in its very latest and final version in Turku, as the composer undertook to revise it further after the concert in 1916. But what is perhaps Sibelius’s best-known, most frequently performed and best-loved work was actually completed in a version approved by the composer in the City of Turku – albeit not by Sibelius himself.

Soon after Finlandia op. 26 came to be known as an independent tone poem, the idea emerged of fitting lyrics to the uplifting tune in its middle section. Several such independent sung versions began making the rounds, particularly in the USA, and became so widespread that some imagined the tune to be an American folk song. In 1938, Finnish-American Yrjö Sjöblom ventured to ask for the composer’s authorisation for a sung version and was told: “It is not meant for singing. It was written for orchestra. But if the world wants to sing it, then there is nothing to be done about it.”^[38]

In that same year, Sibelius gave his blessing to the lyrics written by Wäinö Sola and even wrote an arrangement of the hymn tune for male choir. These lyrics are still used in the context of Musique religieuse op. 113, a suite of music written by Sibelius for Masonic rituals. Martti Turunen, conductor of the Helsinki University Chorus (now the YL Male Choir), was not satisfied with Sola’s lyrics and turned to one of Finland’s most respected living poets, V.A. Koskenniemi, for a new text. Koskenniemi adapted a Midsummer hymn of his into a poem titled Finlandia that was included in his poetry collection Latuja lumessa [Tracks in the snow], published in 1940 and dedicated to the veterans of the Winter War.

However, even in this adapted guise the poem did not fit the Finlandia hymn tune, the reason being – at least if we believe the poet’s wife – that Koskenniemi was utterly unmusical. Koskenniemi, who lived in Turku, later described the emergence of the final version of the lyrics: “In this effort I was well assisted by the choir conductor, Martti Turunen, who among other things would often whistle the melody to me over the phone, with him in Helsinki and myself in Turku! He also took care that the long and short syllables fell in their ‘right’ places, and he conveyed to me that Sibelius had given his blessing to my words.”^[39]