NATALIA - a fictional essay by Marie Loomis INTRODUCTION

[RACHBOY]

Natalia
by
Marie Loomis




Introduction
If you could magically go backstage for one of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s concerts, especially during the later years of his career, you might see the composer’s wife Natalie, or Natalia, as she was known before leaving Russia. Natalia also remains behind the scenes in Rachmaninoff’s biographies, because very few of the couple’s letters to each other appear there. Even so, a careful reader can visualize her from several sources.
Natalia’s younger sister, Sophia, clearly describes their early life, including Natalia’s education and interests. Sophia’s account appears in the Member’s Section of the Society web site. Another source, A Twentieth Century Life, the recollections of Natalia’s and Sergei’s niece, reveals endearing, and sometimes amusing, glimpses of her aunt and uncle. Even the Satin and Rachmaninoff family photos have much to tell..
Rachmaninoff’s letters to friends and relatives also reveal his wife’s caring and adaptable personality. Still another valuable source of information is the Rachmaninoff Society’s forum, especially members Marianne Alkonost of Saint Petersberg, Russia, and Stew Hobson of Monterey, California. Marianne, an active forum member, provided me with information about the Moscow Conservatory, and about Rachmaninoff and his wife. She has also posted many rare pictures of the Rachmaninoff and Satin families.
Stew Hobson and I had a long discussion about Rachmaninoff’s music, and about Natalie’s contributions to his life and career. Our conversation and his subsequent messages ultimately led me to write this work.
After considering these and other sources, I still lacked a complete picture of the young Natalia, so I tried a different point of view. I looked at Rachmaninoff through her eyes, and recorded her thoughts and emotions as I imagined them.
Although they were cousins, the young Natalia and Sergei probably did not know each other well before he was fifteen years old. Sergei’s family background was turbulent, and after he won a scholarship to the St. Petersburg Conservatory at age ten, the likelihood of free time for visiting friends and extended family members was slim.
By the time he was fifteen, though, circumstances had brought him to the Moscow Conservatory, and ultimately to Natalia’s family home. At that point in Rachmaninoff’s biographies, I began to record details of Natalia’s life, whenever she was mentioned, and to imagine the family in Moscow and at Ivanovka.
What follows is a fictional account of Natalia’s impressions related to events in her life, and in the lives of those near to her – especially the young composer whom she would marry. The two journals, which “might have been” date from 1888 to 1902.
All family members and teachers at the Moscow Conservatory are real. Fictitious characters include: Anna and Tania and their parents, and two would-be suitors – Lev M. and Nicolai S. and their parents.
The characters’ conversations and most of their actions are my own creation. However, in many cases, actual events have led to my fictional embellishments.
This work has been inspired by my genuine admiration for the main characters involved, and a desire to recall them more vividly.

[RACHBOY]

A RUSSIAN LEGACY
An unusual wooden box has been in a glass-fronted cabinet in my study for over twenty-five years. The box is made of hand rubbed cedar, and its size is unique, a fact brought to my attention by a musician friend. It is the width of a piano octave, the length of twelve white keys, and the depth of five. The box is closed with a brass latch, and secured with two ornate leather belts. Inside are two leather bound journals, hand written in the old Cyrillic alphabet.
I inherited this unique box many years ago from my father, who had received it from an elderly Russian neighbor. The gift was a tribute to their friendship, because the man’s family had emigrated from Russia in 1917, and the box, with its contents, was all that he still had from his native land.
The elderly man had not tried to translate the journals, nor did he know their writer. He believed that friends had entrusted the box to the care of his parents, at a time when Russians were leaving their country to settle in different parts of Europe and the United States.
Financial considerations and other factors kept me from hiring an expert translator until recently. Since I am now at an age when people consider disposing of valuables, either by presenting them as gifts or by willing them to beneficiaries, I decided to have the journals translated, and to have them and their unique case appraised.
Now that I know what the journals say, though, I must find the family to whom they belong – people who will be astonished at their existence.

Note: hopefully the rightful owners will forgive me if I share some of the journals’ entries with friends. These shared entries deal primarily with events in the life of a great composer, but some pertain to the journals’ writer, as might be expected. Unfortunately, the exclusion of most other entries – those dealing with various topics of interest to the writer – creates a one-sided view of her personality. However, I do not feel justified in revealing more of the journals’ entries.

TRANSLATOR’S EXPLANATIONS
Main Persons Mentioned in the Journals
Natalia Satina: the journals’ writer
Sergei Vasilyevich Rachmaninoff: conservatory student, composer, and pianist
Sasha (Alexander): Natalia’s older brother, age fifteen in 1888
Volodya (Vladimir): Natalia’s younger brother, age eight in 1888


i
Sophia: Natalia’s younger sister
Mama and Papa: Natalia’s parents, Varvara and Alexander Satin
Feona: the Satins’ housekeeper
Maria: the Satins’ cook and maid
Natasha, Ludmilla, and Vera Skalon: Natalia’s cousins.
Alexander (Sasha) Siloti: the composer’s cousin, former teacher, and friend

Note regarding names: Though the familiar forms of Sergei (Seryosha) and Natalia (Natasha) appear in the actual journals, they are not used for the main characters in this translation. One reason for this is that most readers are used to seeing the formal name of Sergei Rachmaninoff. The formal name of Natalia Satina appears in the translations to avoid confusion with Natasha Skalon. The names of Natalia’s brothers always appear in the familiar form – Sasha and Volodya. Likewise, Natasha Skalon’s name always appears in the familiar form.

Places Mentioned in the Journals
Moscow: location of the Satin family’s winter residence.
Ivanovka: the Satin family’s country estate on the Russian steppes southeast of Moscow, in the state of Tambov.


Calendars and Entry Dates
There are some problems with the dates of the journal entries. The Julian
calendar, used by the Russians until 1918, is twelve days behind our Gregorian or “new style” calendar in the nineteenth century, and thirteen days behind it in the twentieth.
Another problem is that the journals’ writer often included several related events under one date, while leaving other entries undated. In this translation, dates appear in the “new style” when possible. Some important events appear in the old style, but this is always specified. When there is doubt about the actual dates, only the season or month and year mark the entries.

Regarding the Translation
The journals have been translated using standard English syntax. While this is not a word for word translation, the utmost care has been taken to express the writer’s meaning.

[RACHBOY]

JOURNAL 1



Easter, 1888 Moscow
Today Sergei Vasilyevich visited us for the first time. Sasha and I talked to him in the parlor, and Sergei asked me to play a piece on the piano. I played “Vanya’s Aria” by Glinka.
Sergei Vasilyevich is the same age as Sasha – four years older than I am. He is tall, well dressed, and polite, but he doesn’t talk much – probably because he doesn’t know Sasha and me very well, even though we are cousins . After we had some refreshments, he had to leave with his teacher. He lives at the home of Professor Zverev, with some other students.

Early autumn, 1889 Moscow
This morning some of our relatives met in the parlor with Mama and Papa. I wondered if someone in the family had died, but no one seemed very sad, just puzzled, and maybe annoyed.
Sophia, Volodya, and I sat above the first stair landing where we could see if anyone else came. After a while, Feona opened the door to Professor Zverev and Sergei; then she led the professor to the parlor. Sergei waited in the foyer, looking very uncomfortable, until Mama came and took him back to the dining room. Then she returned, looked up the stairs at us and said, “Go in there and talk to him; he feels so miserable.”
When we went to the dining room, Sergei was sitting on a chair he had pulled out from the table. He was bent over, with his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. When he heard us, he looked up, surprised.
Volodya ran up to him and started talking right away, and Sergei didn’t know what to say. I went to the buffet and poured him some tea, fixing it the way Sasha likes it. Then, I put some rolls on a plate and Sophia carried them to the table for Sergei, while I brought him the tea. Of course, Volodya wanted something too, so we served him. Then we sat down at the table.
Volodya can’t stay quiet very long, so he asked Sergei what games he liked to play, and if he played ball. Finally, this seemed to make our guest more comfortable. After a while Mama came in and told him that he was welcome to stay with us any time, and then she led him out to the hall, and everybody left.

Early autumn - one week later, 1889 Moscow
Today Sergei came to live with us. Mama brought him upstairs to the room that she and Feona had prepared for him, and the driver helped him carry in some luggage. After that, Mama went to talk to Maria about our new family member, so she could set another place at the table.
I was curious about what was going on, and later Sasha told me that Sergei had defied his teacher, that they had argued, and that Professor Zverev asked him to leave his home permanently. First Sergei stayed with another student, but he had only his piano teaching income, and that was not enough, even for food. Mama found out where he was staying, and invited him to live with us. She had actually expected him before now.
After dinner we went into the parlor, and Papa asked Sergei if he would play something for us. He played Tchaikovsky’s “Troika” from The Seasons. It was beautiful! When he finished, we all clapped loudly, and Sasha called, “Bravo!” That made Sergei smile – and he has a very nice smile.

Late Autumn, 1889 Moscow
Today some men came and brought a piano up to the third floor of the house. Mama made Sergei’s room up there so that he can compose and not be worried about disturbing the family. He won’t be bothered by sounds the family makes, either. Volodya will probably knock on his door and make a pest of himself, though.
Sasha told me that when Sergei was twelve years old he skipped his classes at the St. Petersburg Conservatory, and failed all of them, except for music. Then, he changed the failing grades on his report cards so his mother wouldn’t know – until later. That is why he had to leave the St. Petersburg Conservatory. Sasha also said that his cousin, Alexander Siloti, got Sergei a place at Professor Zverev’s home so he could attend the Moscow Conservatory.

June, 1890 Ivanovka Estate
This summer our family is at Ivanovka, as usual. We love it here, because sometimes we can sleep late, play games, and visit with our friends. Of course, we all have jobs to do. Sophia and I work in the gardens, and the boys work with the animals. Sergei loves horses, and will do even the most unpleasant jobs to help Papa.
Sergei practices the piano for hours every day, but he is very concerned


about disturbing people. It is amazing that he has composed at least five songs, as well as “Romance for Violin and Piano”, and “ Romance for Cello and Piano.” These are just the main things he has written so far.
When he first came to us, Sergei was pale and quiet, and we thought he would be too serious to play games outside, but that is not so. Volodya loves it when Sergei lifts him onto his back and races around the yard. Sasha enjoys his company too, and they often go horseback riding together.

June 19, 1890 Ivanovka
This summer I am working on Chopin’s Prelude in A Major and Bach’s Prelude No. 1, and am enjoying both of them. Last night at dinner Sergei was talking about his idol, Tchaikovsky, and suggested I play some pieces from The Seasons. He showed me the music, and it looks very interesting.
Sophia and I have been perfecting our cooking skills, so Maria has been teaching us how to make the most popular Russian dishes. Mama believes all girls should know how to cook, sew, garden, and manage a household. She has no respect for idleness.

July 15, 1890 Ivanovka
Sometimes Sergei Vasilyevich really aggravates me. The thing that bothers me most is that he is always with Vera Skalon, my best friend. After dinner when all of the young people are sitting outside together, he sits on the bench next to Vera, holding her hand.
We have had many new guests this week – the Silotis came a few days ago. This evening Mama asked me to bring dessert to a table in the parlor before dinner. There were two ladies there already, though, and I heard
Madam Siloti tell Vera’s mother that Sergei was holding hands with her youngest daughter. I nearly dropped the tray I was carrying, and I know my face turned red. Suddenly, I felt very sad to have heard that conversation.

August 3, 1890 Ivanovka
Sergei is writing a lot of songs based on poems. He spends hours on them. He is very particular about his manuscripts, and won’t let anyone near them except Mama.
I heard that he has been asked not to write to Vera after he returns to Moscow – because of the hand holding. I can imagine how embarrassed he felt. He takes himself very seriously, as he should, since he is a great composer, and he probably felt as if he were being scolded like a child.

September 30, 1890 Moscow
The latest work Sergei has composed is Deus Meus for six part unaccompanied choir. If we stand on the stairs leading up to the third floor, we can hear him playing, though he probably would not like that. I was able to hear him composing the six parts of his song on the piano.
Sergei may not be allowed to write to Vera, but he does write to Natasha. I asked her to find out if Sergei likes to be kissed via letters, and he answered that he does, and said he likes me.

January, 1891 Moscow
It has been so cold that no one wants to go outside unless it is absolutely necessary. Fortunately, Sergei likes to entertain us at the piano. He can make unusual sounds on it, like the growl of a wolf, the calls of different birds, and the sounds of different military drum beats. He is a good story teller, and he makes up music to accompany the stories.

Summer, 1891 Ivanovka
So far, this summer has been much quieter than usual, because the Skalons have gone abroad. Sergei came here with Alexander Siloti, but they didn’t stay long, maybe because the Skalons were not here.
Sergei passed the final exams in piano and theory at the end of May. He has done this a year early because he is eager to graduate.

Late August, 1891 Ivanovka
Our family spent some time at the Naryshkin estate, where Papa is the chief steward. Sergei joined us there for a while, and decided to swim in the Matyr river, even though the water was cold. As a result, he became very ill with fever, and we have had to return to Ivanovka for him to recover before returning to Moscow.

October, 1891 Moscow
Our favorite composer has written a new work – Romance and Waltz
for Piano and Six Hands, dedicated to the Skalon sisters. That must be the only piece of its kind in the world! I shall now call them the Skalon Trio.
I enjoyed working on The Seasons by Tchaikovsky so much last summer, that I came up with a good idea; I will work on pieces for March and April, for a special surprise.

November, 1892 Moscow
Since composing the motet, Sergei has written sixteen new works! In addition to these, he has composed a one act opera called Aleko, based on one of Pushkin’s poems.

December 24, 1892
This year has been a very successful one for our composer. In addition to his Trio Elegiaque he has recently composed Prelude in C# Minor, which has caused a sensation. The prelude was inspired by church bells which ring so often. At Ivanovka we can hear them across the wheat fields, and they are very beautiful. It is no wonder that bells are considered sacred in Russia.

March 20, 1893 (old style calendar) April 2 (new style) Moscow
Today is Sergei’s birthday, so we celebrated in a big way. Maria made his favorite dishes, and Sophia helped put icing on a cake for him. My surprise for his birthday was to play Tchaikovsky’s “Song of the Lark” (for March), and “Snow Bells” (for April). Sergei had not heard me play them before, since I practiced them whenever he was not here. He was very pleased; the pieces were the perfect gift for a Tchaikovsky admirer.

April, 1893
What a wonderful honor! Sergei dedicated one of his loveliest songs to me. It is Opus 4, No. 4, based on a poem by Pushkin. I often play the vocal line on the piano, so that I can think of it when I am working on the piano part. This song is about Georgia, and it has a fascinating oriental tone.

June 2, 1893 Ivanovka
Our gloomy cousin has gotten his sense of humor back again. He spends a lot of his free time riding the horses with Sasha, but he also plays with
Volodya, which is kind of him, since Volodya admires him and even
imitates him. That is too funny for words, but none of us dares laugh.
Ivanovka is where Sergei composes best. There is a certain thing he does when he is in the mood to compose. He walks down the brick path by himself, and listens to the sounds of nature. Sometimes a melody comes to him and he whistles it, and he might move his hand a little – as if he is conducting the piece. Finally, he goes inside to the piano to try it out.
We try to guess what bird songs or other sounds have inspired him, but Sergei never tells us if we are right.

October 1, 1893 Moscow
Professor Zverev died yesterday. The entire conservatory is in mourning, and our family is especially. Sergei acknowledges all that the man did for him, and I also owe Professor Zverev a debt of gratitude. I was fortunate to have him as my teacher for a short time.

October 26, 1893 Moscow
Again, the conservatory is in mourning – this time with all of Russia. Tchaikovsky died yesterday, and this second death has really affected our family.

December 30, 1893 Moscow
Sophia has asked our composer if she can keep a list of all the works he has written. He calls her his “little archivist”. She has recorded Sergei’s successful premier of Aleko at the Bolshoi, a wonderful thing for such a young composer. Sergei has also composed a second Trio Elegiaque – this one in memory of Tchaikovsky.

January, 1894 Moscow
Sophia and I are learning how to entertain guests. With Mama’s and Maria’s supervision, we will plan a complete dinner, from making a menu to setting the table. Mama thinks this is an important part of our education. We will invite Tania and Anna as our guests, and they will invite us to dinner in the future. This is really a lot of fun.
Sergei has moved to an apartment, thinking that he should be able to support himself and be independent. We will miss him.

August 18, 1894 Moscow
Mama spoke with Sergei after one of his recitals, and she was shocked
at his appearance. She told Papa that he looked pale and terribly thin. Mama
probably asked questions about meals, drinking, smoking, and so on. She treats him like Sasha. Finally, he told Mama how much trouble he was having balancing his time between composing, performing, and struggling to pay his bills. It is impossible to hide anything from Mama. As a result, he will live with us again during the winter.

September, 1894 Moscow
Since he has moved back to our house, Sergei looks much better. Maria
and Feona serve such delicious meals that anyone would stay healthy here.
What Sergei will need some day is somebody to look after him, like a good wife – not one of the Skalon Trio, though. Their parents already showed disapproval over Sergei’s friendship with Vera, though that was a long time ago. They may have the same attitude with the other two sisters. I know there is a lot of correspondence between Natasha and Sergei, but I have not heard anything about a romance.

December, 1894 Moscow
The Skalons have invited Sergei to spend Christmas with them, and he has accepted the invitation – just when I was hoping he would spend the holiday with us. I will just have to get over this possessiveness toward him, or I will make myself miserable. Sergei will do what he wants to do, and he is the most determined person I know.

End of Journal 1
Continue with Journal 2.

[RACHBOY]

Natalia
JOURNAL 2




February 10, 1895
Moscow is an exciting place, with concerts, ballets, and plays to attend. I love being a part of it – most of the time. Sometimes, though, things are awkward. Lev M. has invited me to go to a concert at the Bolshoi with him and his parents, and Mama seems very happy about the invitation. In fact, Lev’s mother and Mama talked about the event before Lev invited me. I know how these things work – after the first invitation, there is a second, and matters get complicated. So, how can I graciously decline the second invitation if one is forthcoming?

February 21, 1895
I need not have worried about declining Lev’s second invitation. Apparently, he thought I was haughty, or cold, or too independent (all of which I am). Anyway, I understand he has invited Anna to a party, and that leaves me free. Thank goodness!

April 30, 1896 Moscow
For the first time since I can remember, I do not want to go to Ivanovka. I want to be independent – to do something new that will help me with my future. Mama visited Tania’s mother and told her how I feel, and Tania’s mother said she and her family would be happy for me to be their guest this summer.

August 16, 1896, Ivanovka
Tania and her parents have brought me to Ivanovka, and will remain here for a few days as our guests. It was a new experience for me to spend most of the summer with them in Moscow, because Tania and her mother do volunteer work at the orphanage. I gladly joined them as a volunteer.
The three of us organized a music class for the children; I played the piano, and Tania’s mother taught them folk songs. Afterwards, while I played the piano, Tania taught the children Russian folk dances. It was so rewarding to use my musical knowledge to make them happy!
Natasha and Ludmilla are here, but Vera is visiting relatives with her mother. They hope to find medical help for Vera, because she has a weak heart.

September 15, 1896
Our house is very quiet lately because Sasha is at school and Sergei is sharing an apartment with a student from the conservatory. I wrote to Sergei, warning him about drinking vodka and going out with people who would bring him trouble. Now I hear stories about a friendship between Sergei and a married woman. This makes me very disappointed, but all I can do is pray for him.

January 29, 1897 (old style)
Sergei’s Symphony No. 1 in D Minor will be performed tomorrow night. Of course, our whole family will be there. We will be listening to every note, and will applaud loudly enough to make Sergei take several bows.
...........
Three days have gone by, and I have been unable to write down anything in this journal. The symphony was a disaster. I think the conductor was drunk, not an unusual state for him, so I have heard. At any rate, Sergei was humiliated, and left the concert hall before the performance ended. We looked for him, but he did not even stay to take a bow. To make matters worse, a critic by the name of Cui, wrote a terrible article ridiculing the work and its composer. I am very worried about how this will affect Sergei.

February 3, 1897
I understand that Vera Skalon will marry soon. That will probably cause Sergei some disappointment, even though the infatuation with Madam L. has intervened. The trouble with me is that I make his romantic life my business, and I seem doomed to suffer through these episodes with him.

February 27, 1897
My classes at the conservatory keep me busy lately. Professors Pabst and Safonov assign so much work that I practice constantly. When I am not practicing my own music, I accompany instrumentalists. I really love to do that; it is even more enjoyable than playing piano solos.
My only free time is on Sundays. Last Sunday, I was reading stories from the Bible, and the one about Jacob and his cousin Rachel affected me deeply. I suddenly thought of an unlikely possibility for the first time. In many countries first cousins marry, but that is not allowed in our Russian
Orthodox Church. How sad if two people in love could not marry! This idea
disturbed me greatly, and when I asked myself why, the answer was even more disturbing.

Summer, 1897 Ivanovka
Sergei has been working at Mamontov’s theater. He stays very busy, so we haven’t seen much of him. I am glad that he has work there, though, because it is so important for his career.
There are questions that enter my mind every day: will he gradually drift away from us – to marriage and children, to great fame? What if he accepts a promising post as a conductor in another country, and vanishes from our lives, except for the occasional letter? I don’t think I could stand it if that happened.

September 30, 1897 Moscow
This term, I will give a recital with two other students, a violinist and a cellist. We haven’t set a date yet, but we have decided on a program. I will play two solos, one of which is Sergei’s Prelude in C# Minor. I will also accompany the violinist and cellist in two pieces each.

October, 1897
Our family is proud of Sergei, because he made his debut as an opera conductor at Mamontov’s theater. The opera was Saint-Saens’ Samson et Dalila. The production was a big success, and the critics had good things to say about our conductor’s work with the orchestra.

January, 1898
I am learning some of Sergei’s piano solos. Between his work and my studies we seldom see each other, so his music is all I have. I hope to learn them well enough to play them for him if he visits us.

June 26, 1898 Ivanovka
Mama kept me busy this morning, preparing a basket of food and gifts for a woman on the estate who gave birth yesterday. Then, she sent Maria ahead to say that we wished to visit.
When we arrived, the husband graciously showed us to a small front room where the new mother reclined on cushions – a tiny, pink-faced baby at her breast. I just stared at them while Mama put our basket on a table and spoke to the husband.


The young mother and the baby made the most beautiful picture I had ever seen, more precious than any icon in church. Then, to my surprise and
embarrassment, tears ran down my cheeks. I tried to say something, but fortunately Mama explained that I was always greatly moved by things of beauty, and that the new baby was beautiful. The woman and her husband were tremendously complimented, and I had to smile through my tears.

September, 1898 Moscow
Another busy year lies ahead, and I am back at the Conservatory. My teacher this term is Professor James Kvast, and my practice schedule is quite demanding. One reason for this is that I must learn accompaniments for two singers, a new but rewarding experience.
Sergei is so busy that we rarely see him. Once in a while I get a letter from him asking about my classes, and about things at the Conservatory. I treasure those letters, and take a long time composing the answers – but I keep them very formal.

March, 1899 Moscow
The London Philharmonic Society invited Sergei to perform as conductor and pianist. He is there now, in fact. His Prelude in C Sharp Minor made such a sensation last season when Alexander Siloti performed it there, that the Society wanted to invite the composer himself this season.

August 29, 1899
I wrote to Sergei in an effort to direct him toward further composing. He probably does not like for me to give him advice about his personal life, but I did so anyway. Someone has to. I worry that people will lead him into a lifestyle that is not in his best interests. When did I take it upon myself to be his guardian angel? I certainly took on a challenge!

September 10, 1899 Moscow
At least my last letter caused Sergei to compose something again, even if it was at the expense of my pride. He started off by saying “No, Natalia, my Muse is not dead,” then he enclosed his own song to a “joke poem” by Prince Pyotr Veazemsky, and told me to pay close attention to the text. Corresponding with this man is like fencing; he has a very keen wit, and he responds to my advice with clever jests.

December 30, 1899
This morning when I woke up, I thought I was at Ivanovka. I dreamed the
morning air was fresh with the scent of lilacs, and I could hear Sergei
playing the piano – a wonderful new piece, filled with morning light. And then, the way things are in dreams, he was also walking down the brick path, whistling a melody, just as when he is composing – and all the while, there was this joyful, dawn-like accompaniment of birdsong and of the earth awakening.

January 20, 1900
Earlier this month, Sergei went with Fyodor Chaliapin to visit Leo
Tolstoy. After Sergei played, Tolstoy indicated that he thought such music was useless. Then Sergei accompanied Chaliapin, and Tolstoy rebuffed him also. The elderly man’s family applauded generously both times, and begged Sergei and Chaliapin to avoid upsetting Tolstoy. He has negative feelings for Beethoven, Pushkin, and Lermontov as well. Tolstoy is frail and very ill, though, which is probably the reason he acted that way.
Unfortunately, Sergei took the words very much to heart, and he has become terribly self critical. Sergei’s depression has become so alarming that Papa thinks he should see a doctor.

January 25, 1900
My teacher this term is Professor Igumnov, an excellent pianist and a very kind man. In addition to my assigned work, I have learned many of Sergei’s pieces, and I play them with as much skill and feeling as I can to cheer him up. That seems to work for a while, but then the gloom returns.

April 16, 1900
It seems that Sergei is always on my mind, whatever I do. He has
become the measure of everything; if I hear music, I wonder what he would think of it, if I see something amusing, I wonder if he would laugh. If it is a bright day, I think of him walking amid the birch trees, and suddenly stopping to listen, to capture the sounds for his music.
He is like a song that I hear over and over in my mind, but one I never tire of. The thing that is so difficult, though, is that I haven’t the courage to tell him how I feel. What if there is some other woman in his life? Very often, though, when we are talking, he looks at me with great tenderness; then he becomes reserved again.

June 16, 1900 Ivanovka
We hadn’t had any visitors this week, until today. Around nine o’clock this morning, Sergei walked through the door, and I wanted to embrace him, I was so happy to see him. That would have surprised everyone, especially Sergei. The first thing I noticed was how tired and thin he looked. Mama evidently noticed that too, because she served him a hearty Russian breakfast. I had hoped that my letters of advice to him would have some effect, but obviously they haven’t.



June 17, 1900 Ivanovka
This morning I awoke before everyone else. Since I couldn’t go back to sleep, I got up, washed, and dressed in my old, muslin gardening clothes. My coiffeur would have to wait, because I wanted to go to the garden and cut as many flowers as I could for the house. One of the things that Sergei loves most about Ivanovka is the flower garden, with its incredible fragrance. This month, the plants are blooming in profusion.
I tiptoed downstairs, found the clippers and a large pitcher, and put some water in it for the cut flowers. Then I put on my gardening shoes, which were by the door. As I crossed the yard, Ivanovka was beginning to awaken in the pink morning light.
Making my way down each garden path, I enjoyed the fresh scents of the earth and flowers, while placing the cut stems in water. Quite a while had passed before I noticed that the sun had risen, so I lifted the heavy pitcher and turned to see that Sergei had joined me in the garden.
“Natalia, are you the flower girl of Ivanovka?” Sergei asked, smiling at me. He extended one of his hands to support the heavy pitcher from beneath, while placing his other hand over mine. Then he said,
“You are very beautiful, Natalia.”
His words surprised me so much that I couldn’t think of anything in reply. I couldn’t release the pitcher’s handle very easily, unless he moved his hand, and I really wasn’t anxious for him to do that. Finally he said,
“I will carry this back to the house, if you have finished.” Then he moved his hand a little so I could release the pitcher for him to carry. We walked down the flower rows to the house in silence, and I hoped that I was not placing more meaning on the encounter than he intended. I could still feel the pressure of his hand, and I would never forget his compliment. Later, when I went to my room, a glance in the mirror showed a blush that was caused from something other than the sun.

September 30, 1900 Moscow
Today’s events were so important to me that I will record them in detail, so that I will never forget them, as if that were possible.
The house was very quiet this afternoon, and I planned to spend the time studying. Mama and Maria had gone out for some of Mama’s volunteer work, Sophia was at a friend’s house, and Feona was resting. So, when I
heard someone knock on the door, I answered it.
Sergei seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see him. I explained everyone’s whereabouts, and he said he had just come by for a visit, since he had a little time. Then, he put his hat on the hall table, while I took his coat and told him to make himself comfortable in the parlor.
Before hanging up the coat, I impulsively held it to my cheek with my eyes closed and breathed in the scent of the garment, still permeated with the crispness of the autumn air. What an inadequate substitute for the real person! If only I could tell him about my feelings! I suddenly felt overwhelmed at the futility of my emotions, and must have taken a long time at these disturbing thoughts, because when I opened my eyes, Sergei was looking at me with an expression of wonder and tenderness. I could not think of anything to say, but I didn’t feel embarrassed either; I had known him too long for that.
Sergei just took his coat and hung it up for me, then put his arm around me and led me to the parlor. We sat on the sofa with his arm around me for a while, and finally I said, “Well, now you know.”
“Natalia, there have been so many times that I have tried to tell you I love you, and each time I have lost my courage,” he said.
“Sergei, I have never known you to be shy before,” I told him. “I have seen you perform before hundreds of people.”
“This is different, Natalia,” he said. He waited for a while and explained.
“I can’t ask any woman to take me seriously until I am more successful. Besides, you are so lovely and so special that many men probably want to marry you; I have been expecting to hear about your engagement at any time,” he said.
“You underrate yourself,” I replied. “But you can stop waiting for my engagement announcement; I could never marry a man I don’t love.”
“Don’t our parents want you to marry someone from a good family?”
he asked.
“I think my parents have almost given up on me; I hope so, at least.
Sergei, if I have put you in an awkward position, I am sorry. You can forget
my childish behavior, and I will understand,” I told him.
“Your behavior wasn’t childish at all,” he said, “and I am glad I had a glimpse of your feelings. If circumstances were different, I would have told you how I feel before now,” he said.
“Are you concerned because we are related?” I asked.
“That is just one consideration,” he replied. “I owe such a debt of gratitude to your parents! From the time I was fifteen they have literally supported me. After all that, how could I expect them to give me their daughter? And then, of course, there is also the fact that I have not made a name for myself.”
I was beginning to feel dejected; he had said he loved me, then he started listing objections. “Sergei, you don’t have to explain things,” I said, beginning to stand up.
“Oh, stay here a little while, Natalia; let’s finish talking about this.” He took my hand, and I sat down again.
“I don’t want you to feel bad about yourself, just because you haven’t had the time to become internationally famous,” I told him.
“Natalia, you are the most outstanding woman I know. You are educated in music and other areas – and you are as sophisticated and lovely as any young woman in Russia. I should be more secure in my career…” he said.
“Sergei, don’t feel uncomfortable toward me all of a sudden,” I said, hoping to reassure him. “My feelings for you are nothing new, and they will remain the same. I just want whatever is good for you – that you take care of yourself, and use your gift as a composer.”
He seemed to contemplate this idea for a while and then said, “Well, Natalia, your letters telling me to take care of my health, behave myself, and use my time composing were certainly good advice.” He laughed about that, and I suddenly felt just a little defensive.
“Now that you mention my letters, Sergei, you sometimes answered them with “joke poems” that you set to music. What was I supposed to think of those songs? That one about different kinds of champagne sounded as if you were boasting about your conquests,” I told him.
“I was just trying to be witty; I’m really not so reckless, he explained.
“I am glad of that, I said. Sometimes the tone of those songs reminded me of the times when you used to stand on the edge of the roof and sing an aria
from The Demon. I was terrified you would fall,” I reminded him.
“And recently, you thought I truly had fallen – into the depths of
depravity,” he said, smiling. “As for standing on the edge of the roof and
showing off – that was a boyish stunt to get your attention. More recently, though, I wanted you to continue writing your sweet letters – telling me to stop my ‘debauchery’ and ‘get down to the business of composing.’”
I was stunned; he quoted my words, which were written in haste after reading his outrageous song. “Do you mean you were actually provoking me to write?” I started to object, but then I saw in his eyes the merest glimmer of mischief, which had disappeared during his depression, and I was so happy to see that little spark of humor that I laughed with delight. We both needed to laugh; the situation had gotten too serious.
He drew me closer to him, and after a while he said, “Do you remember the day I came here after Professor Zverev asked me to leave his house?”
“How could I forget? You left again for about a week, then came back to
stay for five years.”
“Five years in a warm and loving family,” he said. “Then when I was having such a hard time on my own, your mother invited me back again.”
“I remember the very first day you moved here; that evening after dinner, you played Tchaikovsky’s ‘Troika’”
“You remembered that!” He seemed delighted.
Then Sergei said, “I remember the two pieces from Tchaikovsky’s Seasons that you played for my birthday.”
Now it was my turn to be surprised. “Yes,” I said, “ two pieces for the two calendars – for your two birth dates.”
“That pleased me more than you know,” he said. “Two of Zverev’s other students and I did the same thing for our teacher’s birthday years before. Zverev was so pleased that he invited Tchaikovsky over to hear us. The great composer was so delighted that he complimented us repeatedly. That has been a special memory for me.”
I was glad Sergei told me this; in fact, it was unusual for us to be seated side by side, sharing details of our lives – much less having his arm around me. I wanted this time to never end.
“Natalia, you played several of my pieces for me on many occasions, and you played them beautifully, with so much feeling! Why didn’t I understand then how you felt?
“ Sergei, what were you supposed to understand? It was a tribute to my
performance that you noticed nothing but the music. I couldn’t say anything
to you before, though; don’t you see how a little incident – like what
happened today – has caused you so much concern?”
“Don’t say that, Natalia. What happened today has brought me happiness.
I never thought you would have this feeling for me,” he said.
“And you don’t regret this conversation?” I asked.
“No, I don’t. I couldn’t be the first one to speak without knowing how you felt. Do you understand that?” he asked. “But I can’t expect you to wait until I become a success, and I can’t expect your parents to agree to anything serious between us. If you think there is any hope that they will agree to our being more than just relatives or friends, I will be overjoyed.”
“Sergei, in many cases cousins are more than just relatives or friends; it is a question of one’s culture and religion. There may be hope for us in that situation.”
“I have heard of those instances, Natalia. You are certainly more to me than a friend, or a cousin,” he said. “I am not sure when I began feeling this way about you, but I know it happened before I even had a chance to consider our relationship.”
“That is how it was with me too, Sergei,” I told him. “As for your career, you are already becoming famous; but even if you were not, I would wait for you,” I told him.
“Natalia, it was just by chance that I came by to visit today. I had no idea you would even be here. We may not have even had this discussion.”
“I hope that we would have talked about this soon,” I told him. “I have been so afraid that you would move away from us – accept work in another city or country, and leave us.”
“I could never do that!” He put both his arms around me and kissed me
tenderly. “Natalia, now that I understand how you feel, I will speak to your parents and tell them how I feel about you. I only hope they won’t object,” he said.
“Let me talk to Mama first,” I said. “Papa would expect me to do that.”
“I must leave now, Natalia, but I will be back in a few days.” With that, he embraced and kissed me fervently and told me that he loved me. Then, he got up to leave, while I sat on the sofa for a long time, amazed at what had happened. I knew our lives would never be the same.

October 1, 1900 Moscow
Today I had a terrible – I don’t know what to call it – confrontation with
Mama. I was sewing, and she came into the parlor and sat down
on a chair by me. Then she said, “Papa and I saw Mr. and Mrs. S. and
Nicolai after church Sunday. We were talking, and Nicolai very politely
asked Papa and me if he could invite you to the symphony. We said that he
certainly could ask you. He is such a nice young man, so handsome too.”
Mama was all smiles, as if she were telling me great news. She didn’t need to wait for my reply; she just had to look at my face.
“What is it, Natalia? she asked – sounding on the verge of exasperation.
“I don’t want to go out with Nicolai, Mama.”
“Why?”
“I just don’t.”
“Natalia, this has been going on for a very long time. Young women your age are getting married, having a family. You won’t give any young man a
chance! How do you know you won’t like him? …Your father and I are concerned.”
That did it! Why did she have to bring Papa into it, and act as if there
were something wrong with me. I stood up to leave the room, and she stood too.
“Natalia, we would like for you to go out with Nicolai; we told him that he could ask you. It will be an embarrassment …”
“Mama, I just can’t. I don’t want to. …” Then, Mama just looked at me, shook her head, and left the room. I suddenly felt bad about causing her so much unhappiness, but it was the wrong time to tell her about my feelings, or about my talk with Sergei. I had to wait and think about what to say.

October 2, 1900 Moscow
This morning, Mama caught me by surprise. I had gone into the dining room for tea, and she came up to me and said, “How long have you felt this way about Sergei?”
I nearly dropped the cup I was holding, and finally replied. “How? What way?” I should have just told Mama the truth about my feelings, but I hadn’t the time to think.
“Natalia, you cannot deceive me,” said Mama.
“Why do you ask me about Sergei?” I wanted to know.
“That is the only explanation for your behavior. I suddenly saw it clearly, and everything else fell into place. Natalia you should not encourage
him,” Mama said.
“Well, I haven’t encouraged him, and he was interested in everyone else but me. ... And he made some wrong choices – women who were absolutely wrong for him.” My face was hot, and I felt flustered. Then Mama just looked at me and asked, “Who is the right one for him, then?” She almost had to smile at that – but not quite. I had certainly gone about this in the wrong way.
After dinner, Mama took me aside and said, “This morning I asked you how long you have felt as you do about Sergei. When did you start feeling this way? I never noticed any difference in you.”
“Mama, I have always loved him. Please, don’t ask him to stay away. This has been his home, and it is not his fault.”
“Does he know how you feel, Natalia?” she asked.
“I told him a couple of days ago, Mama.”
“Does he feel the same about you?” she asked, and I just nodded.
Then she said, “I had a feeling …. Well, I can’t ask him to stay away; I asked Sergei to live with us on more than one occasion, and he has been like a son to me. I am just concerned for both of you. You know there will be problems if you should plan to marry in our Church.

October 3, 1900 Moscow
When Sergei came by to visit this time, I met him at the door before he had a chance to knock. Then I very quietly told him that Mama knew how we felt about each other. He looked into my eyes with a worried expression, and asked if she disapproved.
“She just said she was concerned for both of us,” I answered.
“I hope they won’t ask me to stay away from you,” he said.
I told him what Mama said about loving him like a son, and assured him that neither she nor Papa would ask him to stay away. I knew that Mama would make the news known to Papa, and that he would follow her advice. I also knew that Papa admired Sergei for his ambition and determination.

October 27, 1900 (old style) Moscow
Tonight Sergei performed his Second Piano Concerto in its entirety, with Alexander Siloti conducting for the Moscow Philharmonic Society. Words cannot describe how I felt during that concert – I was filled with so much
pride and love. The music was the most beautiful Sergei has composed.

December 24, 1900 Moscow
So far things have gone on much the same as before, with no one in the
family saying anything one way or another. We try to behave as usual – but I don’t know if we are fooling anyone or not. I have told Mama that I will not
love anyone else, or marry anyone else, and she just reminds me that it will be difficult to get a priest to marry us in Russia. At least, I am glad that Papa has not expressed any objections to Sergei.
We don’t have much time together by ourselves, but whenever we do, Sergei is very loving, and says that he can’t believe how fortunate he is.
He feels more obliged now than ever to make a success of his career, and he works incessantly.

February 20, 1901 Moscow
It was a cold, rainy day, and I was just leaving the practice rooms at the
conservatory. Suddenly, a familiar figure came down the hall, and the whole
afternoon brightened.
“Natalia, is there some place we can talk privately? Sergei asked.
“Well, if no one is in the library,” I began …
“No, not there. It is difficult to be in our situation. No one understands our need to be alone for a while, but we can’t discuss things in front of your family until we make some decisions ourselves.”
“We have too many chaperones, I agreed”
“Do you think we could take a cab around the city for a while, just in order to have some privacy? I will have you back here for your next class.”
“This may be our only chance,” I said.
So, with that agreed, I left to get my heavy coat, hat, and gloves, while Sergei walked to the front door to wait. Then, we stepped out into the cold, and he got us a cab. After he helped me into it, he asked the driver to take us around the city and bring us back in an hour. (I remembered hearing about his truancy from classes years ago in St. Petersberg, and his adventurous rides around that city on the backs of wagons. Now, I wondered if our cab fares would add up alarmingly in the near future.)
Once inside the cab, he took my hands in his and asked, “Natalia, will you marry me?” I have never been so happy, and told Sergei “ yes” without the least hesitation. Then he took me in his arms and kissed me, and we rode
around the city oblivious to where we were.
After a while, he said that he wanted to discuss our wedding plans; he had looked into the possibility of our marriage in the Russian Orthodox Church. Fortunately, our situation is not unheard of, but we will have to
apply for a dispensation – permission to marry in the Church.
Naturally, I didn’t want to return to the Conservatory, and I asked Sergei
to take me home so that we could speak to Mama and Papa about our marriage.
“ They already know we love each other,” I said. “ I think they need to
know how serious we both are about marriage, Sergei. We are not children any longer.”
Sergei was eager to take this all important first step. He felt confident for several reasons. For one thing, Mama and Papa had not treated him any differently than before; for another, our marriage would be possible in the Church after we had been granted a dispensation; and finally, the success of his Second Piano Concerto had launched his career.
When we entered the house, which was so comforting and full of
love, we felt at ease. I found Mama and explained that I had decided to come home early, and asked if we could see her and Papa together in the parlor after dinner. If she was puzzled or surprised, she didn’t show it.
After dinner that evening, Sergei and I went to the parlor to wait, and suddenly our confidence evaporated. We were on the brink of the most important step in our lives – one we wanted very much to take.
Sergei paced the floor but, at least, he didn’t take out his pocket watch, which he does before a concert. I can smile about it now, but I felt bad that he was so anxious. Soon, Mama and Papa came into the parlor and told us to sit on the sofa, while they were seated in their chairs.
I took Sergei’s hand and we both spoke at the same time. It was an
awkward moment, but Mama and Papa both smiled, and it was obvious that
they wanted us to feel at ease. Papa spared our feelings by addressing Sergei first, saying that he knew I had expressed my wishes to Mama, and that they had expected this meeting.
Sergei visibly relaxed, and then he asked Mama and Papa for permission to marry me, telling them that he would go to the priest and inquire about getting a Church dispensation. After Papa had so kindly led the way, we were no longer worried about their answer. They embraced us both, and Mama promised she would do all in her power to help us – and that meant
everything to us.
At least, we can now share our plans with close family members. We
will wait until we get our Church’s permission to marry before announcing
our engagement. Meanwhile I will hope and pray that the priests decide in our favor.

November, 1901 Moscow
It has been such a long time since Sergei first went to the priest about our marriage! There is more to the problem than our kinship, though. Sergei has not practiced his religion, so he is unable to supply the required certificates to prove he has been active in the church. I wish the priests would stop giving him such a difficult time. Sergei has a reverence for God, and he is the kindest and most charitable person I know.
Soon I will graduate from the Conservatory, and will be glad for the extra time. I plan to help Mama; she has worked so hard in our behalf.

December 1, 1901 Moscow
One of Sergei’s aunts knows a priest who she thinks can help us, and
she has promised to talk to him. We will marry in a military chapel, since Sergei’s grandfather was a general, and his own father is a military man. . We are planning a very small wedding, because the Czar must give his permission, and that is read only at the wedding ceremony itself. If permission is denied then, no priest will perform the marriage. The suspense is terribly cruel, but we hope for the best.
Last night Mama told me that she is praying for us, and I was so touched that I kissed her. She has been our ally.

March 3, 1902 old style calendar Moscow
Our long wait for the Church dispensation is over, subject only to the approval of the Czar. There is just one small detail, though – we have to wait until after Easter, because weddings are not performed during Lent.



April 28, 1902 old style calendar Moscow
Tomorrow is our wedding day, after such a long wait. This last entry in my journal celebrates the beginning of my new life with Sergei. My journals just fit into the little cedar box that Volodya made me for Christmas. I will keep them there always, as a reminder of my girlhood, and of the early years I have known Sergei.
My bridegroom is extremely serious. I keep telling him that this is a joyful occasion, but with his usual pessimism, he is worried that something
will go wrong at the wedding – that the Czar’s permission will not arrive, or some other problem. Sergei has had too many sad shocks during his young years to take anything for granted. Thank God Sasha Siloti is here to reassure him!
My wedding dress is hanging in the little dressing room, and Sophia and Maria have been busy making sure that I am a beautiful bride. What would I do without them?
After our marriage, Sergei and I will live in the small house next to Mama and Papa on Ivanovka estate. Our wedding trip will be a concert tour, from Vienna to Venice and back, through Lucerne, and I will be the world’s happiest bride.

Note:
Natalia Satina and Sergei Rachmaninoff were married on April 29, 1902 in a small military chapel in suburban Moscow. They were together until his death on March 28, 1943.

[RACHBOY]

SOURCES

Sergei Rachmaninoff, A Lifetime in Music, Bertensson, Sergei and Leyda, Jay. New York University Press, 1956; University of Indiana Press, 2001.

Rachmaninoff, Norris, Geoffrey. New York: Schirmer Books, 1976, 1993.

Sergei Rachmaninov, An Essential Guide to His Life and Works, Haylock, Julian. London, UK: Pavilion Books Ltd., 1996.

A Twentieth Century Life, The Memoirs of Sophia Satin (1915-1996),
Published by The Rachmaninoff Society.

In Search of Rachmaninoff (A Poem by Valeria Z. Nollan). Nollan, Valeria Z. published by Wouter de Voogd for the Rachmaninoff Society. 20, Woubruggestr., 1059 VS Amsterdam, The Netherlands.

Recollections by Sophia Satin, Sophia Alexandrovna Satin (1879-1975). The Rachmaninoff Society Web Site, Members’ Section.

The Rachmaninoff Society Web Site, Forum

The above sources combined to give me a picture of Rachmaninoff and his family. The books by Bertensson and Leyda and by Norris were important guides to my “journals” – especially regarding events and compositions. Some of the sources gave me details about Natalie Rachmaninoff, especially the book by Bertensson and Leyda, and the Recollections by Natalie’s sister Sophia Satin. However, my work is essentially fiction, because many details about Natalie – obviously her thoughts and feelings – are absent from the above works. If there are errors, they are my own – but have been made in good faith.
An essential guide to my work has been the spirit of Rachmaninoff’s music. This led me to an interest in his life and his family.
Marie Loomis

[RACHBOY]

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