III
Arnold Schönberg (born 1874) has gained a place for himself in Vienna as the foremost spokesman of the ultra-radical school of German music. At the present time he is gradually coming to similar recognition in other countries. His musical manner is so utterly foreign to anything else we are familiar with that men believed for a long time (and quite excusably) that he was a mere charlatan, one who, failing to gain recognition by legitimate means, had resorted to the methods of the sideshow. That such a view is not tenable is shown by the recent course of events. In his earlier music he showed a fairly conservative style, based chiefly on Strauss, and used in a manner nothing short of masterful. Much of this early music has not been heard until recently, because of its astounding proportions. But it was ambition and not incompetence that kept Schönberg from prompt recognition. His development into the new style was steady. It could not possibly have been achieved without a very large fund of musical learning. The later scores show a contrapuntal ability which is astounding. The style, in the later works, is quite without parallel. Harmony is dropped altogether. Next to nothing remains of the system of Bach and Beethoven. On the other hand, the complexity of the contrapuntal web surpasses anything we have ever seen. The man’s whole effort seems to be toward exuberant, overpowering counterpoint, a mass of separate voices mingled in delirious profusion, with inversions and augmentations and diminutions that make the brain dizzy. Judged by ears that have anything of the old-fashioned left in them this music cannot be beautiful. But Schönberg’s appeal is to a different faculty, and only time can determine whether the appeal is justified. Schönberg explains that he is not trying to write emotional music, or descriptive music, or music with any sort of a meaning—but just pure music. If this be music, there are some definitions yet to be altered.
His songs, however, so far as they are yet catalogued, do not belong to this last period. The numerous songs of opera 1, 2, and 3 are of the first period, in which the style of Strauss was pretty closely adhered to. The ‘Eight Songs’ of opus 6 and the ‘Six Orchestral Songs’ of opus 8 are the product of the second period, the transition time in which the new Schönberg style was fairly well developed, but was used with frequent admixtures of the old. In the work of this period the hearer has a breathing space and can feel at first hearing that the music has something in it after all. However, second period or not, the two groups of songs we have mentioned will be quite mystifying to the average student. They are all very long and extremely difficult to sing. For that reason they are by no means available for ordinary concert use. They can be sung only by the highly capable singer and listened to only by an audience with highly trained ears. Perhaps, even under these conditions the listener will conclude they are not worth the trouble. But the one virtue which we can predicate of Schönberg without fear of contradiction is ability, and this virtue stands out strongly in the songs. We may mention from opus 6 the ‘Maiden’s Songs,’ which attains a sense of immense physical violence. ‘Forsaken’ maintains its mood by a remarkably powerful use of a constantly repeated chromatic figure in the bass. But the best of these songs, and probably the greatest Schönberg has written, is ‘The Wanderer,’ words by Nietzsche. The other songs may be chaotic, but this has a cogent form. Moreover, it has definite melody and an accompaniment manipulated with a strong sense of design. The song as a whole is eloquent and impressive.
The Six Orchestral Songs are also arranged for piano accompaniment and may be sung in concert. They are rather scenes than songs, being very long and composite and generally descriptive or dramatic, rather than lyrical. In them the technical element is all powerful. Voll jener Süsse, words from Petrarch, is a masterful study in the free movement of contrapuntal voices treated as in close harmony. Das Wappenschild is a magnificent song of action. The basic theme is stirring, the melody is marked and impressive, and the general structure is clear and cogent. The song exemplifies Schönberg’s genius for making his counterpoint seem to express tremendous power of will. Sehnsucht is a comparatively simple song, the best of the six for the student to begin on. Nie ward ich, Herrin, müd is a magnificent study in powerful counterpoint. The tempo is slow, the themes are drawn out and sustained as though played slowly by a ’cello. The piece is extremely difficult to sustain at this slow tempo and is a tax on the listener’s attention beyond anything of the sort that can be called to mind, but if one can feel its beauty at all one must be impressed by the majesty of the thing.
Another modern song writer whose work centres chiefly in Vienna is Joseph Marx, who has been prolific and successful. His style has many elements of the modern, but on the whole it is clear and intelligible and does not require a new set of ears for its appreciation. Marx’s songs are often fresh and spontaneous and his sense of proportion is keen. Another of Schönberg’s contemporaries is Franz Schrecker, whose work is likewise representative of the most advanced tendencies of the new Viennese school. This school is rather left behind by one of Schönberg’s pupils, Anton von Webern, whose strange song, ‘Over the Borders of the All,’ is incapable of description in any terms hitherto used in connection with music. Which men of such a group will prove valuable to posterity is not to be decided at first investigation. But it will be well worth anyone’s while to maintain an open mind and regard an innovator as innocent until he has proved himself guilty.
CHAPTER XIV
MODERN FRENCH LYRICISM
Fauré and the beginning of the new—Chabrier, César Franck, and others—Bruneau, Vidal, and Charpentier—Debussy and Ravel.