## Scriabin: Sonata No. 6, Op. 62 > [!tip] Piece at a Glance: Sonata No. 6, Op. 62 >- Composer: Alexander Nikolayevich **Scriabin** (1872-1915) >- Year Composed: 1911, published 1912, premiered March 1912 (1915?) by Elena Bekman-Shcherbina >- Period and Style: Modernist, Russian symbolist >- Nicknames and Subtitles: (none known) >- Tonality: Main octatonic set $\{G, A\flat, B\flat, B, C\sharp, D, E, F\}$ (with G taking a slight tonic function) >- Length: $11$-$14$ minutes >- Movements: $1$ (Modéré, roughly in sonata-allegro form with coda) With the writing of his Sixth Sonata, Op. 62, Alexander Scriabin firmly settled into his final compositional period, which began immediately after the Fifth Sonata, Op. 53. In this late period, Scriabin abandoned the traditional major-minor binary and replaced the major mode with the acoustic scale, and the minor mode with the octatonic scale. Central to both these modes is Scriabin's famous *Mystic chord,* which features prominently within these late works as a basic consonance, instead of (traditionally) as a dissonance which needed to be resolved. Scriabin's late harmonic language and style is inextricably connected to his philosophical and religious beliefs. Though his beliefs are far too nuanced to be summarized in these notes, among other things, he was generally pantheistic in his beliefs about God; in particular, Scriabin was quite insistent[^1] that his beliefs were made known. Starting in 1903 (which we would consider as Scriabin's middle period), he began to work on his ultimate masterwork, *Mysterium,* a massive production that will bring together all of humanity at the foothills of the Himalayas. Furthermore, he believed that after *Mysterium* finishes its week-long performance, that the world would end and humanity would ascend into what Scriabin called "nobler beings." Clearly, we are still human, which meant that Scriabin's plan to end the world failed. Indeed, he died suddenly of sepsis from a facial infection in April 1915. With this, *Mysterium* was left unfinished. Nonetheless, Scriabin's work on *Mysterium* led him to write the five late sonatas (Op. 62, 64, 66, 68, 70) as preliminary exercises; indeed, these late sonatas often figured in the sketches of what he had of *Mysterium.* These late sonatas can be partitioned into two subsets: the Sixth and the Seventh Sonatas were written as a pair in 1911-12, and the Eighth, [[Scriabin Sonata 9|Ninth]], and [[Scriabin Sonata 10|Tenth]] Sonatas were written as a trio in the winter of 1912-13. Despite the numbering of the sonatas, which accords with Scriabin's desired publication order, Scriabin finished the Seventh Sonata, Op. 64 before the Sixth.[^2] The Seventh Sonata bears the title *Messe blanche* (in English, *White Mass*), standing in glaring contrast with the untitled Sixth Sonata: the composer himself described the harmonies of the Sixth Sonata as "nightmarish, fuliginous, murky, dark and hidden, unclean, \[and] mischievous." While the nickname *Messe noire* (*Black Mass*) is usually attached to the Ninth Sonata, Op. 68, the Ninth Sonata arguably has its redeeming moments of light. In contrast, the Sixth Sonata is a work of pure darkness: it is the most obscure of the ten sonatas, and Scriabin refused to play the work, fearing the music he had written. The Sixth Sonata opens with the most ghoulish sonority out of all ten of Scriabin's numbered sonatas: we have the sustained chord[^3] $\{D_1, A\flat_2, F_3, B_3, F_4, C\sharp_5\}$, which functions as the dominant in the piece's tonal system. Indeed, the first subject area consists of harsh maneuvering around this sonority, up until the growling ceases with the delicate second theme. Scriabin marks the beginning of the second subject area in the exposition with the French "*le rêve prend forme (clarté, douceur, pureté),*" i.e., "the dream takes shape: clarity, sweetness, purity." Here, the piece takes a more expressive turn, as if forgetting about the harshness preceding it. In the development of the sonata, the corruption of the themes in the exposition begins to take place. We hear upsurges of horror, demons evaporating into thin air, and poisonous, rapturous sweetness that culminates in a twisted celebration of evil, commemorating the "blossoming of mysterious forces" (in the score, *epanouissement de forces mystérieuses*). The development violently closes with a "sudden collapse" (*effondrement subit*), and we get a repeat of the first subject area, this time a whole step lower, with a seemingly plain recapitulation. However, by far the creepiest passage in the sonata is the second subject area in the recapitulation. Scriabin gives us the disarming marking, *tout devient charme et douceur* ("all becomes sweetness and grace"). Despite this marking, this passage is the most technically challenging in the entire sonata: the pianist has the near-impossible task of voicing six independent lines (all with independent dynamics and articulation markings!) spread across three staves, all to be done with two hands. Furthermore, almost all of this is to be done in a hushed *pianissimo* and within an polyrhythmic ebb and flow that must sound completely natural. These bars are also difficult from an interpretational standpoint: Scriabin clearly intended this section to sound nurturing — we can deduce this from Scriabin's marking of the passage mentioned above, as well as the fact that within one of the independent voices, there is a subvoice that "generates" the second theme note-by-note. However, it seems like Scriabin intended this passage to evoke the imagery of a monster sanctuary,[^4] for the piece ends with an "upsurge of horror \[mingling] with the delirious dance." With this, the Sixth Sonata fades into oblivion, and the horror introduced in the development will not be resolved until the opening chords of the Seventh Sonata. The Sixth Sonata, as one quickly sees (or hears), has no redeeming qualities in terms of what one initially thinks of as "beautiful." All the purity in this piece is corrupted and perverted by darkness, the piece opens and ends questioningly, and parts of it are initially difficult for the ear to digest. However, this is what gives the Sixth Sonata a unique voice among Scriabin's works, as well as the piano repertoire as a whole: in a pianistic culture dominated by Romantic works, the Sixth Sonata is a rare work which, when interpreted properly, challenges the *status quo.* The tale of the Sixth Sonata is twisted and subverts the notion of "prettiness" in music, yet a closer study[^5] of the *structure* of this sonata reveals its beauty and its underlying compositional philosophy. #scriabin [^1]: Often, this was to the point of harassment: innocent bystanders were not immune to Scriabin's ranting and raving. [^2]: Likewise, Scriabin finished the Tenth Sonata before the Ninth, and trailing behind both of these was the Eighth. See my notes on the [[Scriabin Sonata 10|Tenth Sonata]] for more details. [^3]: For those who care about the Forte class of this chord, it is 5-31, and it is an octatonic subset (in fact, of the main octatonic set that the sonata is based off of). [^4]: For the science fiction (or fantasy) enthusiasts in the room, you may perhaps find it helpful to think of a secret government lab where biologists are growing living, grotesque balls of flesh. This scene is clearly both nurturing and disgusting at the same time. [^5]: And many, *many* listens back to back!