Earlier we discussed how some critics deny that the unsungs write memorable material, even though:
1. the material is often very memorable indeed, and, even when not, we must remember that
2. many established works by name-brand composers have quite unmemorable material, too.
Now, the next thing critics like to deny unsungs is originality. I recall one critic dismissing the Reinecke 1st Piano Concerto because it contained so many cliched elements from the Tchaikovsky, Grieg, and other romantic concertos. Of course, that the Reinecke was written before these works did not seem to faze our critic. From her point of view, Reinecke was guilty of copying in advance.
More recently, I was reading a review of Leslie Howard's recording of the Rubinstein Piano Quartet in C. Those of you who have heard it will recall the second subject of the finale, which Howard rightly calls "startlingly Brahmsian". I remember almost falling out of my chair when I heard it, that's how much it sounded like Brahms had sneaked into the proceedings. Yet the critic reviewing the CD called that very theme "a patented Schumann hymn-tune". His point, in other words, was to deny Rubinstein any originality and instead suggest he was copying Schumann, though it sounds nothing like Schumann.
I've seen similar things said of Raff. Recall how the slow movement of his 10th Symphony anticipates Tchaikovsky's 5th Symphony by a decade, yet critics don't hear that. Instead, they accuse him of copying Mendelssohn and Schumann, which the 10th Symphony certainly does not resemble.
Is this some kind of collective, automated response, designed to reinforce what they were taught in school?
No, these are honestly held opinions with which we all have the right to disagree.
Honestly held, but too often in ignorance, I'm afraid.
I find it possible to sympathize with both sides of this issue. Music critics and commentators are (usually) individuals with highly trained musical faculties. In some cases this may be seen as amounting to indoctrination, but most of them have a far greater knowledge of their field in depth than those of us whose interests are wider and (inevitably) shallower. John doesn't quote any of his examples verbatim so I'm unable to comment on the justice of his accusations. However, I don't see any harm in pointing resemblances of a particular work with other pieces both preceding and following. Concerning Raff (pace Mark!) it would be most surprising if his works didn't recall Mendelssohn and Schumann in many respects, some of which our ears may not be so acutely attuned to.
Has anyone noted the startling similarity between the 2nd movement of Kabalevsky's Piano Concerto No. 3 [main theme] and the (pococ piu mosso) middle section of Dvorak's famous Humerosque in G-flat?
Going back to John's original post, and in particular, to the mention of the criticism of Reinecke's Op72 (a review that I have not come across, incidentally); this appears to be a definitive statement of fact that, if true, is downright false. It is not therefore merely a question of opinion, but use of incorrect information being used to bolster one's (apparently) biased thinking. Is is precisely this kind of prejudice which needs to be forcefully refuted at every opportunity, wherever and whenever encountered!
However, if a criticism against any unsung composer is raised legitimately, based purely on the OPINION of the reviewer etc., I can accept that, but may strongly disagree!!!
Martin - I think I understand your oxymoron ( ;) but we need to know exactly what the critic said and its context.
I recall parts of Schubert's earlier symphonies being referred to as Rossinian- which on consideration is hard to deny. I won't say it's a "so what"- it leads me to maybe want to read a Schubert biography for the first time in years - but
(1) Rubinstein never denied writing music that was "derivative"
(2) originality is important but overrated
(and some of our favorite "original" Classical and Romantic music seems so because of historical ignorance; the composers knew who and what they were influenced by and borrowing from, even if we don't.)
John - that's such an enthusiastic review it makes me want to buy the CD! I've no idea what he means by "like one of Schumann's patented chorale-like melodies" (the "Cologne cathedral" movement of the Rhenish symphony perhaps? Anyone think of another example?) but it hardly seems like cause for litigation.
Moreover one finds formulations like "entirely original" or "wholly Rubinstein's own" which appear to assign at least a degree of originality.
Odd though the formulation about Schumann's "patented chorale like melodies": As if there were oodles of them in Schumann's work.
Musicologists and critics, but also music-lovers, feel only happy when they can find - in unheard or forgotten pieces - similarities with the known Big Ones they have listened over and over again, studied them or personally like - it's those who have found a fixed place in their ears, brains or hearts. To critics and musicologists of course it's easier to write about the Big Ones basing on prevouisly written (and jugded) literature. When they have to write about unsung composers, they start comparing. When they cannot do this, they are often irritated, and tend to judge the unknow ones as "minor". That's because human nature tends to place everything into "files", which are narrow, sometimes ridiculous, and mostly unfair. It's good to always hear and to enjoy things we appreciate, especially if we have decided upon what we personally like (and unfairly decided that only those are "good" or "great"), but this narrows our horizons. Human nature must always judge and classifies everything, in order to find its inner pace; it's a sort of self-confirmation. Appreciating "influences" without increasing or diminushing a composer's value would be more fair (like the classic examples of Beethoven coming from Haydn, Schubert from Italian music or Wagner from Meyerbeer). Using the term of "originality" is subjective, dangerous and severe. Let's speak about the Romantics and not about composers from times in which "imitation" or "schools" were trends: many Romantic composers have been inspired by others (earlier or contemporaries, some of them were their teachers), but used these "influences" to create new and "original" pieces, which are still great. Look at Brahms's Baroque hommages (and this not only in his Haydn-Variations!). I think we should discuss some of these interesting cases, and not use the measure of "originality" to make this or that composer good, less good or bad. An example would be Mendelssohn-Raff-Templeton Strong - but, finally, to whom does it help? Enjoying music without prejudices and scepticism could make one much happier. Spend more time to play and to listen than to discuss! Just imagine my own panic that my life will end soon and that will I lose the occasions to re-listen or to discover all beautiful, interesting and inspiring music which has been written! Often I stand desperatly lost in front of my huge CD collection shelwes, knowing exactly that this or that piece will be taken away from my heart. On my iPod I have stroed hundreds of music pieces, hoping that at least this small wonderful device could be taken over to my desert island!
Incidentally, I know many obsessively negative-thinking musicologists and critics with bitter-looking faces visiting concerts - some of them consulting pocket scores of the works they are going hear and taking notes while listening! I bet they are frustrated or unhappy beings - with strange obsessions and a constipation problem.
I think you have chosen an interesting subject for debate. I entered the world of forgotten composer research and editing/publishing nearly 20 years ago. Back in those days, I was endlessly enthusiastic for every fresh discovery. However, as the years have rolled by, I have become ever more selective - I see a lot of work, and now only chooset to publish those pieces that have something special to offer.
I do not, as Hadrianus suggests, measure the works against those of 'great composers', but by their ability to sustain my interest as a listener, player and musicologist. As well as subjective issues, the objective five elements of music all play a part in this:
e.g.
structure: a song that has the same music for every stanza, cannot be said to be a great work [compare Johanna Kinkel's songs with Gretchen am Spinnrade by Schubert].
Melody & Harmony: A symphony that sounds like Beethoven but written in 1880, however good to hear, can only ever arouse slight interest and be regarded as pastiche, given the exciting innovations at that time by Wagner and Brahms. [compare Emilie Mayer symphonic works]
Colour: Some forgotten works suffer by being written unsuitably for the instrument - if it doesn't work for the player or draw out the best features of timbre, it is unlikely to get performed a great deal.
However, the music of Halfdan Kjerulf which first brought me into this field, continues to delight me every time I look at the scores, the originality and skill is first class. I look forward to completing a project later this year for the bicentenary.
Ros - I only count 4 objective elements there - is number 5 rhythm?
What makes a good composer is of course their skill in manipulating those elements to create an interesting, enthralling, exciting and/or beautiful work of art. To coin a phrase, their power of invention within convention. I do believe that when it comes to distinguishing the great composers from the good, posterity has got it just about right. Having examined and played a great many neglected string quartets over the last few years, I'm disappointed to have to say I found none that in my view deserve regular inclusion amongst the blessed canon of 100 or so.
And after Hadrianus's eloquent diatribe I feel it necessary to make another argument in defence of musicologists and critics, most of whom he seems to paint with the same black brush. Of course, all such generalizations are wrong, including this one. While we stand "desperately lost" in the face of the vast choice of music immediately at our fingertips, we need all the help we can get in choosing what to listen to in the limited time left to us! We may not necessarily agree with their advice, but the world needs experts more than ever before.
Thanks, matesic, for your posting and absolutely valuable counter-arguments - as rosflute's ones :-)
What else than such pessimism (or a tendency towards self-destruction?) can you expect from a grumpy old man as I am now? I fighted so many years for a more spontaneous approach towards music - and that made me a lonely outsider who, among other, was never allowed to perform in concerts as a conductor. Many of my postings is here have a rather bitter, too personal and limited value. But I think this forum also accepts some crazy guys like me :-) You can believe me, my experiences in the classical music business were more negative than positive. To make the recordings I had been "allowed to" costed me a large part of my health and money. But I still love music, of course :-)
It seems to me that part of the question is the status accorded to originality when it comes to evaulating a musical work. Many seem to think that lack of originality equals lack of quality/interest. When reading Michael Haas' otherwise very interesting and perceptive book "Forbidden Music", I noticed the statement that, because many 19th-century Jewish composers were eager to integrate into the Western mainstream, both personally and musically, their music was ultimately not very rewarding. In other words, music that challenges the established norms is supposed to be more rewarding/interesting than music that stays within them, regardless of other criteria. This seems to me the kind of generalizing attitude that lies behind many of the statements commented on here (I hasten to say that Haas' book isn't full of them but is generally very fair).
I think it is very difficult to establish objective norms regarding this. I think that, to be fair, one must also look at each work and the degree to which it fulfils its purpose. For example, in Carl Nielsen's song "Jens the Roadman", the composer deliberately sets out to write a tune that will convey the contents of the text in a way that will make more people appreciate it. To fulfil that purpose, he chooses the strophic form and not a through-composed one. The choice is also influenced by the fact that the poet has placed central phrases differently in each stanza so that, even though the tune remains the same, those phrases appear in different musical guises throughout the song. When asked about his greatest successes in an interview near the end of his life, Nielsen unhesitatingly mentioned this song, and I think he did that precisely because it so clearly fulfils its purpose, even though it is "only" a strophic song. For that reason, I consider it a greater artistic achievement than many of his through-composed songs. (By the way, Nielsen also used to say that composing strophic songs often caused him more trouble than composing symphonies).
"a song that has the same music for every stanza, cannot be said to be a great work" - given the examples of Nielsen's Sommersang and Sondheim's "You Must Meet My Wife" (ok, _almost_ strophic...) I'm not sure I can agree.
Regriba- ok, sorry, you beat me to that... though I subjectively prefer my (somewhat earlier) example, still, I adore the best of Nielsen's songs (now I've been introduced to them, a decade or so ago).
Quote from: matesic on Wednesday 06 June 2018, 10:22
Ros - I only count 4 objective elements there - is number 5 rhythm?
What makes a good composer is of course their skill in manipulating those elements to create an interesting, enthralling, exciting and/or beautiful work of art. To coin a phrase, their power of invention within convention. I do believe that when it comes to distinguishing the great composers from the good, posterity has got it just about right. Having examined and played a great many neglected string quartets over the last few years, I'm disappointed to have to say I found none that in my view deserve regular inclusion amongst the blessed canon of 100 or so.
But "posterity" has rarely been a constant, and neither has its "judgment". A 19th-century audience used different criteria from a 20th-century one for a number of reasons: experience, innovation and education, to name only three. That does not mean that either was "right" or "wrong", just that the parameters of what constituted a "worthy inclusion" in the canon shifted.
Qualitative judgments are heavily influenced by time-bound aesthetic and social ideas: to a nineteenth-century audience, program music could be "better" or "worse" than absolute music, and scores of people in various period would tell you that women were inherently unsuited to be composers. Both of these ideas still heavily influence our ideas about music. Do we have a "better" view of what makes good music because our regarding those issues are different? And therefore, are we more entitled to qualitatively judge music?
Also, the importance of manipulation in the form of education, marketing, and "evangelization" has played an important role . Simply put, when you have generations of people telling each other that (for instance) Brahms is brilliant
for whatever reason, then Brahms gets to encapsulate "quality" itself, thus creating a circle of self-affirmation that we cannot be immune to.
The problem, in my view, is not that we see any unsung composers as "lesser" ones, but rather that a combination of factors has made the idea of what is "good" entirely exclusive and unmovable. One can seriously question to which degree the endless repetition of the classical canon in the concert hall still constitutes art.
For myself I'm well aware that British reviews in the very early 20th century of eg Brahms' 2nd cello sonata were quite scathing about Brahms' piano doublings (as I am even now about Dvorak's excessive use of them in his 2nd piano quintet, or even Bloch's in his, despite rating those composers in general) - but some of us reach opinions- even high opinions- of composers (even repertoire works and composers) - more despite rather than because of the consensus in their favor, via a different route and favoring different qualities.
(Incidentally.)
I think we all understand where you're coming from, Adriano. To have been in the forefront of the battle to perform and record unsung music must have left some deep scars. I for one am grateful that you have persisted in your quest for all these years. Thank you!
I strongly echo Alan's sentiments.
Alan and Gareth, you both made my day - infinite thanks! :)
I see this chapter has, in the meantime, been enriched by some very interesting contributions, bravo to all of you!
Made all the richer by the experience of an artist who has actually achieved what many of us could hardly dream of. Again, thanks to Adriano.
As for Rossini's influence on Schubert - Rossini visited Vienna in the early 1820s, as I recall. Schubert composed 2 overtures in the 'Italian Style' and his 6th Symphony around that time that contain some passages with some vaguely Rossinian qualities. That's about the extent of Rossini's "influence" on Schubert.
The Oxford Dictionary explains the term of "original" as: "novel, inventive, creative, firsthand, unique, imaginative, unusual, underived, ingenious, fresh, eccentric, nonconformist, individualistic - just to quote definitions which could be applied to musical pieces. This means that such pieces have not necessarily to be conform to "Conservatory" rules or elements like harmony, counterpoint, structure, colour - or to excel in it. Take Charles Ives and Erik Satie as the most famous examples. These two composers had given me - meany years ago - the courage to quit the (Zurich) Conservatory in protestation and continue to explore music on my own. In those years, only Haydn, Beethoven and Mozart were taken as models; even Bruckner and Mahler were questioned. I noticed that was a totally different world of what was happening in concerts or being released on LPs - and I was shocked. I still curse my professors today. Funny enough, my piano teacher's name was "Steinbrecher" - which can be stranslated as "stone breaker"... In 1966 or 1967 I had given, at the University Club, audiovisual presentations on Ives and on Tchaikovsky. Can you imagine the scandal? A member of the Conservatory's Direction heard about his and I was called to explain why I was misusing what I was learning in such a way. Tchaikovsky was even considered as inferior and "feminine"! The term "Conservatory" (see Oxford Dictionary) is (was) very much apporpriate for such institutions. In the meantime, many such institutions have changed it into "High School of Music", "Music University" etc., to perhaps get rid of negative "greenhouse" reputation. And it was also in those years that I was first confronted with musicologists and critics... One among them (a musicologist acting as critic - or viceversa) still lives, acts and hates me today; he (erroneously) considers himself as the discoverer of Joachim Raff and mobbed my in a most primitive way after I had issued (in 1977) the world premiere LP with Raff's Piano Quintet on my own label. So you see how I became a "Don Quixote of special composers". That's the term I was using then for the "unsung" ones.
I've recently moved into a new area so I checked out the web site of the local community orchestra. I was impressed to find their next concert includes not only Bruckner's Overture in G minor but Bruch's Symphony No.3, neither of which I know. Having quit my last orchestra partly owing to their increasingly conservative (audience-friendly) programming, I feel very much inclined to give this lot a try.
Unfortunately, although I love Bruckner to death and can't wait to play the Overture I'm not a big fan of Max Bruch. However his symphonies have been highly praised on this site so I listened to a couple of recordings of the third. I don't think it's too contentious to suggest that none of the OED's definitions of "original" seem terribly apt! "Pleasant" and "mellifluous" are about the kindest terms that occur to me, "formulaic" one of the most damning. My attention certainly wandered frequently and one or more manifestations of "originality" would certainly have helped keep me focused.
Brave and praiseworthy programming for sure, but is Bruch 3 a wise choice if few of the audience are likely to sit up in their seats, feel their temples start to pulsate or go home humming Bruch's themes? Maybe they prefer to be left in a state of semi-attentive trance? Anyway, I'll see if they want me for the violins or violas and maybe my prejudices can be turned around.
Bruch 3 is certainly not the sort of music one would think of in connection with the epithet 'original', so I think it's a mistake to do so. The work should be enjoyed on its own terms; I'm sure the audience will take to it it if they approach it in this manner. Personally, I love it for Bruch's continual flow of melodies and generous, open-hearted romanticism.
...and if you don't know the absolutely magnificent performances of all Bruch's symphonies conducted by James Conlon (sonorously recorded and rather more generous in feel than Masur), then snap them up! They're ridiculously cheap - and the orchestra sounds like the Berlin Phil, they're that good!
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bruch-Symphonies-Concerto-2-pianos/dp/B001TNYP3A/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1528561866&sr=8-1&keywords=bruch+conlon (https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bruch-Symphonies-Concerto-2-pianos/dp/B001TNYP3A/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1528561866&sr=8-1&keywords=bruch+conlon)
One of Bruch's most beautiful (and I would even say "original") compositions is his set of eight pieces for clarinet, viola and piano, op. 83. I had the honour of being introduced to them by the great Karl Leister, whom I met in in Riva del Garda, Italy, in the 1980s. I had to record his concert with my newly bought SONY PCM machine, but had later handed over all my tapes to the Festival Manager - who died in the meantime.
Of these eight pieces there is a wonderful Erato recording of 1990 (re-issued on a bargain series), also containing Bruch's short Concerto for clarinet, viola and orchestra, op. 88 - another unsung piece which deserves to be rediscovered. The eight pieces have also been recorded by RCA and by Cypres (the latter also containing the Concertino). But I also like his Piano Quintet very much (on Hyperion and on cpo). So don't be too hard condemning this composer before knowing his chamber music!
His oratorios "Moses" and "Das Lied von der Glocke" are, in my opinion, quite boring.
Just look at what you can get at Amazon.de for 18 Euros:
https://www.amazon.de/Streichoktett-Streichquintett-Klavierquintett-Ensemble-Hoelscher/dp/B00000IMG6/ref=sr_1_2?s=music&ie=UTF8&qid=1528607895&sr=1-2&keywords=max+bruch+klavierquintett
I did perform a couple of Bruch's 8 pieces a number of years ago and I agree they're most enjoyable with some unusual (original?) sonorities. Likewise the string octet, but the string quartets didn't make a very favourable impression. Most of his violin and orchestra repertoire also seems rather bland and forgettable, apart from the charming Scottish Fantasy and one concerto I wish I could forget.
In sum, I think Bruch makes an excellent example of a highly proficient composer who makes all the right, comfortable noises (I might call it "bathtub music"...) but whose reputation will always be limited by lack of precisely those qualities that make up "originality".
That doesn't bother me a bit. I love his generosity of spirit - especially as exemplified in the three symphonies and VC3, which is greatly underrated. If you go looking for originality in Bruch, you won't find it - except, of course, that no-one else could have written his music (discuss!) When I've had enough of Brahms' dark corners, sometimes it's nice for the ear to be caressed a little more. And I never get tired of VC1. What a piece that is.
Alan, I am shocked. Brahms has so many sunny corners! Listen to his songs, Liebeslieder-Walzer and chamber music. Not to speak about his pastoral-like Second Symphony and his two Serenades!
Last year in June I was spending some time again on the shores of the lake of Thun and I heard Brahms's Violin Sonata in A, just resounding from the shimmering water and the beautiful sunny landscape all around! The piece was composed there, as were the Sonata for Cello in F, the Piano Trio in c minor and the Double Concerto!
Oh, I agree - I was thinking mainly of the symphonies as points of comparison. So even the 2nd Symphony has dark moments, especially in the first and second movements, in a way that Bruch doesn't. No doubt it's the mark of the greater composer (Brahms) to hide doubt behind certainty, sadness behind happiness. My English teacher at school always taught us that the work of the greatest writers, especially poets, was characterised by ambiguity. I think that's true of Brahms.
Brahms had a strange sense of humour, since, after having enjoyed the success of his Second Symphony, he wrote to some of his friends that he was astonished that such "sad music" would be appreciated at all. He even warned some more before the première that it will be "unbearably melancholic", that never before he had written such a bleak thing "in the style of music in a minor key" and that the score must be printed with black rims. To others he wrote that it was a "joyful, fully innocent and tender affair". In a later letter he admitted that he was a "naturally melancholic person", but that he connects his new Symphony with his (at that same time) dark D minor Motette op. 74 Nr. 1 ("Why Light is Given to the Wretched?", a masterwork!) - just to cast a bit of shadow into his "heitere" (joyful) Symphony, by introducing some trombones and timpani (which at the beginning were unforseen).
You are right, Alan: you feel this - but I still consider this as Brahms's "Pastoral". About "originality": consider the highly elegant "elf's" or "gnome's" dance music alternating between Menuet, Gavotte and Galop in the Scherzo! A very original piece, elegantly constantly alternating between major and minor. Only geniuses could handle their artistry with such humoour, distance and virtuosity - and at the same time produce "serious" music.
Originality is an issue not always treated with sufficient respect or understanding, perhaps because we crave basking in the light of a creative individual personality while being held prisoner by the collective conformity. 'Derivative' always seems to be used as a disparaging term and yet the originality we now commend was often attacked when first played. Yes, originality has value but that isn't sufficient in itself nor does it guarantee quality or satisfaction. Indeed, some of the original noise-type modern "music" I've heard is the least enjoyable. Like Isaac Newton, composers stand on the shoulders of giants. What they write is heavily influenced by what was composed before them. And it has been possible for different composers to write the same or similar tune completely independently, just as two scientists can make the same discovery. We experience the same world but know that we see and hear it differently. So, we are bothered when paintings or music by different people look or sound the same (and yet, perversely, object when it is too different!). Pieces are mostly called unoriginal in relation to tunes, rather than structures, or instrumental combination and colour or the story-lines of a work. The tunes of other composers can be recycled deliberately for a variety of reasons, but the context of their setting and their orchestration may still be original. There is usually a natural pattern to completing the start of a phrase, like the way we can finish other people's sentences, which can produce similar sounding music almost by itself.
Perhaps we can return to this issue of 'ambiguity'? Often originality is about multi-layers of meaning, it seems to me. Does anyone else sense this?
One unsung piece that has really struck me as embodying this ambiguity is the slow movement of Klughardt's 4th Symphony which, within 3 minutes or so, passes from calm to despair to triumph.
That's my reaction too. The mistake is to make comparisons with Brahms. Just take the music on its own (wonderful) terms.
John - let's hope the concert-goers of Banbury share your taste! After the event I'll report how it went down (either from the platform or the audience)
Quote from: Alan Howe on Monday 11 June 2018, 17:43
Perhaps we can return to this issue of 'ambiguity'? Often originality is about multi-layers of meaning, it seems to me. Does anyone else sense this?
One unsung piece that has really struck me as embodying this ambiguity is the slow movement of Klughardt's 4th Symphony which, within 3 minutes or so, passes from calm to despair to triumph.
I don't think this is ambiguity. Don't we call this rapid changes in mood? Ambiguity in music seems hard to nail down to me unless it is described in technical terms: Harmonies that may be heard in one key or another or rhythms that may be heard/played as hemiolas or as straight 3/4.
You're probably right. But the effect is to pose the question: What is this music really about - calm, despair or triumph?