 
|
Audio Asylum Thread Printer Get a view of an entire thread on one page |
For Sale Ads |
|
|
Audio Asylum Thread Printer Get a view of an entire thread on one page |
For Sale Ads |
67.188.250.219
In Reply to: RE: What makes you think he was fighting it? posted by josh358 on April 19, 2012 at 18:08:27
Structure is merely that which keeps a work interesting over its entire length, and in that respect, Tchaikovsky was a profound structuralist. ;-)
My point is: there are many different kinds of structure - don't become limited by just a narrow idea of what it is.
Follow Ups:
Well, yeah, "structure" is probably a misnomer in this context in that all music has structure -- melody is structure, songs are structured, even a single note has structure. And I agree that structure can have many different functions and many different effects, e.g., the progression of keys i the Well-Tempered Clavier has a different role than the key changes in a sonata form movement.
But I think that when we say that Tchaikovsky had no understanding of structure, we mean that he never mastered the uniquely sophisticated large-scale structures of German art music. This is the great weakness in his compositions. His structures are in his melodies, while Brahm's structures were in the development of his themes. Tchaikovsky's music was I think in a sense more typical of the romantic period, but also, it wasn't German. Brahms was a classicist at heart; he works with themes rather than melodies, and achieves his effects through the development and juxtaposition of the themes within a tonal framework. And nobody ever did structure like the Germans. To me, Tchaikovsky's most successful works are the ones in which he isn't trying to ape the German forms.
I disagree about Tchaikovsky's supposed weaknesses in large-scale structures. In that respect, I highly recommend the Leonard Bernstein lecture on the Pathétique Symphony included in the DG "Original Masters" set:
Among Bernstein's points:
If Tchaikovsky was such a great melodist and not really a symphonist, why didn't he just stick to writing songs or operas? What are melodies doing in a symphony anyway? Can Tchaikovsky's melodies really be symphonic themes? Indeed, some of Tchaikovsky's melodies (such as the famous lyrical subject in the first movement of the Pathétique) are not developed but are there for structural reasons only (as a manifestation of the second key area in the exposition, returning in the home key in the recapitulaion). However, the rest of the thematic material in the first movement of the Pathétique is comprised of the short motives which lend themselves to the metamorphoses associated with symphonic development. And in fact, the development of these motives is far more symphonic than Tchaikovsky's critics pretend. Furthermore, if we went through the other three movements of this symphony, we would uncover the same findings, i.e., that there is real symphonic development going on that, for whatever reason, some listeners are not sensitive to. Nevertheless, one will hear the naysayers claim that Tchaikovsky's large scale symphonic writing lacks the inevitability of Beethoven or, indeed, Brahms. But Tchaikovsky used the Germanic symphonic forms for his own purposes - for maximum emotional engagement and for shattering contrasts. In other words, Tchaikovsky is often seeking variety, rather than unity. Does that make his symphonic writing less valid - or less "structural"? And for all its emotional contrast, the Pathétique exhibits remarkable unity when analyzed at the motivic level (with almost all of these motives deriving from scales and step-wise motion). And this unity extends even beyond the first movement - in fact, there's a unity of motives in all four movements of the work. Out of these unified motives grow themes, counterpoint, bass lines - in fact all the elements of the symphonic texture.
Actually, Bernstein has quite a bit more to say beyond this in defense of Tchaikovsky as a symphonist, and, by implication, as a structuralist. But I think the point has been made: it's just not fair to claim that Tchaikovsky had no understanding of structure.
And if I may return to the Brahms symphonies for a moment, I often feel that Brahms is pulling "stunts" in his symphonic writing. Take the Third Symphony, a work I really love (my favorite among the four), but which is compromised by his stunt of ending all four movements "piano". Especially in the last movement, I feel that this "soft ending" is really shoe-horned onto the music - a Procrustean Bed if there ever was one. Or take the last movement, the Passacaglia, of the Fourth Symphony: first of all, as you no doubt know, Brahms took this theme from Bach, but he added an extra note (a kind of leading tone to the dominant). Jeez, do I ever hate this! It makes the theme, which was so natural and satisfying as Bach left it, into a kind of synthetic, self-conscious concoction that just cries out "look what I can do!". And going beyond the theme itself, Brahms's "stunt" of shoe-horning this movement into the passacaglia form leaves us with a structure that I find to be far less satisfying than, for instance, the last movement of Tchaikovsky's Sixth Symphony.
Don't get me wrong - I love Brahms too, but just not unreservedly. For instance, Brahms's Second Piano Concerto is a more satisfying work for me than any of the Tchaikovsky Piano Concertos. But let's give Tchaikovsky his due and refrain from saddling him with the "no understanding of structure" mantle.
Thank you for bringing this album to my attention. I am enjoying the performances and lectures immensely.
All human evil comes from a single cause, man's inability to sit still in a room. -Pascal
I love Bernstein's lectures, and many of his observations here seem to me informative and astute. But IMHO, he's trying too hard to make a point that can't be made.
Bernstein says, "Tchaikovsky's large scale symphonic writing lacks the inevitability of Beethoven or, indeed, Brahms. But Tchaikovsky used the Germanic symphonic forms for his own purposes - for maximum emotional engagement and for shattering contrasts. In other words, Tchaikovsky is often seeking variety, rather than unity." And then he asks rheotrically, "Does that make his symphonic writing less valid - or less 'structural'?" But my answer to that would be yes, of course it makes it less "structural," in the same way that the similar structure of the trees on a tree make it more structural -- or the branches, the flowers, the fruit.
I think it was Tchaikovsky's intent in the first movement, to juxtapose and contrast the antsy motivic writing with the beneficent melody. Thus the emotional contrast. But, to me, he just gets lost, because to do this, he must sacrifice the formalism of the movement. By the time it's two thirds of the way through, I'm about to tear my hair out, because he's struck off in every possible direction, meaning that there's no direction left.
Furthermore, when he does develop, his efforts at development are too often perfunctory. Like Wagner, he repeats too much with too little change, and yet he never achieves the magnificent effect that Wagner, at his best, achieved. His development is as uninspired as the development of Beethoven or Brahms is inspired. As with another great melodist, it's nowhere near the level of his sublime melodies and haunting harmonies, and yet Schubert's structural deficit is nowhere near his own. Indeed, it seems to me that he could have written ten wonderful movements with what he's put in the first, had he only had the restraint and discipline to stick with one or another, and to develop it with real skill.
Guess I'm a sucker for tricks, because to me the backtracked ending of the Brahms third is the key to the entire work and one of the most haunting moments in music. The listener senses the relationship between the ending of the four movements, but not consciously, rather, intuitively, where the spirit lives. We go back to the beginning, or maybe, to borrow Churchill's phrase, the end of the beginning, and the effect is melancholy and profound.
Could it be that, as my mother used to say, you should never look too closely at your food? If we look too closely at the music that moves us, we'll find artifice, the trick behind the effect, and I think that's as true of Tchaikovsky's melodies as it is of Brahms's development. The difference, perhaps, being that we always sense that Brahms is hard at work, while Tchaikovsky, in his melody, strives for a more seemingly natural, Mozartean effect?
I like the last movement of the fourth. Brahms has transformed the theme, yes, but I see it as a transformation into the idiom of the time, and of Brahms himself; he's not trying to imitate the style of Bach, as Mozart and Beethoven sometimes did. The movement seems to be an experiment in updating or adapting an old form or thematic material to a contemporary vernacular, an exercise many composers have undertaken -- Beethoven, Wagner, Tchaikovsky, Bach himself.
I can't say I love Brahms, or any composer, unreservedly -- there are times he seems too labored, or too humorless, or too melancholy or dour or even jocose -- but for me personally, he's in the very first rank of composers. Whereas, while I love some of what Tchaikovsky wrote, mostly when he isn't forcing his boat-on-the-Volga melodic gift into the straightjacket of Germanic form, I don't hear the same level of genius in Tchaikovsky that I do in Brahms, or anything like. When he tries his hand at development I get bored, wish I were somewhere else, anyplace else other than the interior of a movement that then seems interminable to me. When the melodies and harmonies come along, I come alive again. But this makes his music problematic for me.
. . . that was my paraphrase of what Bernstein was saying - not what he actually said. ;-) (I still highly recommend that DG set.)
I must say, I read your post with astonishment, because your descriptions surely do not correspond to what I hear. ;-) I wonder if it's worthwhile continuing the discussion when we're so much at odds over just what it is we're hearing. But then, who knows, maybe it's still worth a try.
You seem to be highly focused on the unity of a work of art - hence, your analogy with the structure of a tree. But I think in doing so, you've made Tchaikovsky's point: yes the structure of a tree may be consistent within particular elements - but, as you yourself point out, the components themselves, such as branches, flowers, and fruit, are NOT the same as each other. You prefer non-flowering trees with no fruit? Seriously though, it seems that what you're arguing in favor of is the old Baroque Doctrine of the Affections, whereby (per Wikipedia) "one unified and 'rationalized' Affekt should be aimed at by any single piece or movement of music, and that to attempt more was to risk confusion and disorder". I think that might be appealing to you? Even in the later eighteenth century, the rift was beginning to show, as this doctrine lost ground. Think of the very opening of Mozart's Jupiter Symphony - Mozart is very martial in the first two measures, but then strikes out in another direction in the third and fourth measures with his yielding reply within the same theme. Do you worry about Mozart's lack of unity just within just the first four measures?
I hope you're just being rhetorically over the top when you say Tchaikovsky has struck out in every possible direction by the time we're 2/3 the way through the first movement of the Pathétique. You don't really believe that, do you? I mean, c'mon, EVERY possible direction?
I have to say that I just don't understand someone who considers Tchaikovsky's developments perfunctory. There are few other composers who write such heartfelt music as Tchaikovsky does - and his developments are very much a part of this overall effect. If that's perfunctory, I just have to shrug my shoulders and shake my head. And your comparison with Wagner is especially surprising - Wagner, whose music for so many listeners consists of small oases amid long arid stretches of musical filling (yeah, continuous development!). Certainly, Wagner at his best is exalted indeed, but, in general, you have to suffer through a lot to get to those best parts. Give me Tchaikovsky's development sections any day!
As for the last movement of Brahms's Fourth, the point I was trying to make was not that Brahms was trying to imitate the style of Bach, but rather that Brahms's added note sticks out like a sore thumb. Generally, I don't have any problem adapting older material to the contemporary vernacular. But if the last movement of the Fourth Symphony represents one of these kinds of updates, I must say that it's at best only semi-successful.
I had in mind the 18th-century description, "uniformity amidst variety." In a more modern understanding, one could place that in the mathematical framework of information theory, and refer to entropy reduction; variety corresponds to entropy, or randomness, and uniformity corresponds to the patterns or symmetries that allow us to reduce the apparent randomness of a work.
Have you ever read Meyer's "Meaning in Music and Information Theory"? It's available online and I think it's one of the best essays I've ever read:
http://www.jstor.org/discover/10.2307/427154?uid=3739576&uid=2&uid=4&uid=3739256&sid=55863967073
I also strongly recommend his earlier book, Emotion and Meaning in Music, to anyone interested in the aesthetic foundations of music.
Anyway, I'm referring to the structure of a work, not its emotionality. Sudden shifts in emotionality began to appear late in the baroque era. I don't see those as an impediment, if not too abrupt, as perhaps they were in the roccoco works of CPE Bach. The Frankensteinish piecing-togther of disparate structural elements is to me a sign of mediocre intellect and lack of taste; a "tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Except that the interesting thing about Tchaikovsky is that the elements are frequently inspired, the thoughts of genius; they just don't relate.
When I say that Tchaikovsky's development is perfunctory, I'm not referring to anything having to do with the heart. Much mediocre music (and I don't apply that word to Tchaikovsky, at least at his best) is heartfelt -- it emotes all over the place. It has a heart, but no brain. One hears such music in the supermarket, each syllable dripping with expression like a wet rag, yet never half so moving as the supposedly cerebral B minor Mass, or Hammerklavier. As I say, I don't put Tchaikovsky in that class -- he is one of the musical greats -- but neither do I rank him with the handful of German masters who could create such structures.
I think we just react differently to Tchaikovsky's modification of Bach's theme. It doesn't glare at me as it does at you. I often do have that type of reaction to hokey jazz rearrangements of Bach, or even the over-eager addition of ornamentation to music that, we are told by a student of Bach's, differed from other music of the time in having all of the notes written out.
By the way, I agree with you (and Tchaikovsky) about Wagner's arid stretches. As Rossini put it, "Wagner has wonderful moments, and dreadful quarters of an hour." Given a choice between less-inspired passages, I'd much prefer to listen to Tchaikovsky, who's are, at least, relatively brief. That's why I added the qualifier "at his best" to my original statement.
Anyway, as interesting as I find theory, I'm not using it, or any philosophical assumption, to judge these works. I'm just using the theory to try to explain why I react the way I do. In Bach or Beethoven or Brahms, I hear a wonderful, remarkably complex structure that keeps me interested, carries me forward, touches me deeply. In those developmental passages of Tchaikovsky's, I grow bored and restless, search for the exits, because his thematic variations lack inspiration, or he throws in elements that aren't intellectually related, which is exactly the same thing, only noisier.
. . . I get a message stating that the preview and purchase options are not available. All I see is the first page unfortunately.
I used to have a copy of "Emotion and Meaning in Music", which I read a long time ago (30+ years). Unfortunately, I lent it to somebody who never returned it, and I don't remember much about it these many years later.
Are you referring to CPE Bach when you talk about the "Frankensteinish piecing-togther of disparate structural elements" (indicating a lack of taste)? That would be interesting, because, despite the sudden shifts of phrase so characteristic of CPE's music, I think his underlying harmony is pretty regular, as well as I remember. That's one of the interesting things about his music: the jagged phrases over the regular harmony underneath. Also in his "Essay on the True Art of Playing Keyboard Instruments", CPE frequently invokes "good taste" as the arbiter of when and how to execute certain ornaments. ;-)
Anyway, I guess we do have agreement on certain supermarket music, with its "American Idol" type of overemphasis (and over-pronunciation of syllables!) to try to conjure emotion out its listeners. I'm glad you don't put Tchaikovsky in that category!
And BTW, I do appreciate your high esteem of Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms. But as for Tchaikovsky lacking inspiration and throwing in elements that aren't intellectually related. . . well, maybe it only SEEMS that way. Lenny will set you straight! ;-)
That's about when I read it too. I did a search and it looks like it's available from Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Emotion-Meaning-Music-Phoenix-Books/dp/0226521397
Did you read the paper on "Music and Information Theory"? I also read it back then. IIRC, it was written after "Emotion and Meaning in Music," after he'd had his insight on the relationship between information theory and aesthetics.
Agree with you about CPE Bach, I didn't have him in mind as an example of bad taste. What bothers me about CPE Bach's music are the "storm and stress" surprises characteristic of the Rococco. They're emotional, rather than formal.
Heh, these things are relative. When we criticize Wagner or Tchaikovsky, or for that matter CPE Bach, we're beginning with the assumption that he's one of the greats. I mean, any composer can be criticized, even the holy trinity of Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven had their less inspired moments. Indeed, I'd argue that if a composer never fails, he's never going to be great, because greatness can't be achieved without risk. (That Brahms so rarely failed had I think more to do with the fact that he so ruthlessly culled his less successful efforts than anything else.)
By the way, I had the impression, from your paraphrase, anyway, that Bernstein wasn't disagreeing with me so much as he was making my point for me, when he says "Tchaikovsky's large scale symphonic writing lacks the inevitability of Beethoven or, indeed, Brahms. But Tchaikovsky used the Germanic symphonic forms for his own purposes - for maximum emotional engagement and for shattering contrasts. In other words, Tchaikovsky is often seeking variety, rather than unity." So in a way, isn't it like our differing reactions to what Brahms did to Bach's theme? We both hear the same thing, but it effects you differently than it effects me. In the case of the Brahms, you were bothered, I wasn't; in the case of Tchaikovsky, I'm bothered, you aren't. I think that's true of Bernstein, as well, we react differently. After all, he was a great proponent of Mahler. To satisfy me, music has to have both emotion and intellect, which is why German baroque and classical music appeals so strongly to me. Whereas Lenny could subsist on tone color alone.
I read one other book by Leonard Meyer besides "Emotion and Meaning in Music" - I believe it was "Music, the Arts, and Ideas". I don't think I was even aware of his paper on "Music and Information Theory". BTW, I found a really great summary of "Emotion and Meaning in Music", which I plan to use to refresh my understanding of that book:
http://www.music-cog.ohio-state.edu/Music829D/Notes/Meyer1.html
I suspect I might agree with his ideas less now than when I originally read the work, when I was so impressed that someone was actually dealing with these ideas and issues in such detail, and really coming to grips with them.
Regarding the Bernstein remarks, I see where you're coming from, and you're right that what he says may be consistent with the different ways that individual listeners hear the same music. BTW, I have just a bit of your "Tchaikovsky-type" of reaction when I hear certain works of Mahler (a composer whom I generally like nevertheless), so I think I know what you mean. ;-)
Music and Information Theory is just an amazing paper. It's been years since I read this stuff, so I'm not up on developments (if any) since then, though I did have a fascinating discussion about it years ago with Jonathan Berger, who drew the distinction between underdetermined music, typical of the romantic era (but not Brhams), and overdetermined music, typical of the baroque and classical periods -- the distinction being the number of musical possibilities, that one is more constrained by form. The distinction is I think akin to the distinction between free and structured verse, in free verse you can use any number of syllables, in structured verse one has to stick to a metrical pattern, so one's word choices are limited, and of course there are structural possibilities that are even more constrained -- rhyme, and various formal schemes, like the Shakespearian sonnet, all of which reduce possibility. At one extreme, he had analyzed the unfinished final fugue of the Art of the Fugue and determined that there were only two possible solutions.
I'll have to look at that summary to refresh my own recollection, don't have time now. I do know that what I read in Emotion and Meaning in Music influences for example my understanding of what Brahms was doing with the movement endings of the first, and many other things, besides. It's just disappeared into the general framework of my understanding, until it's hard to remember what comes from Meyer.
I have to confess that I miss the charm of Mahler. I decided this year to become more familiar with the oevres of some composers for whom I'd never felt much of an affinity, and it paid off wonderfully in some cases, e.g., Wagner -- I'm never going to like the uninspired stretches of the Ring, but now I know where all the great stuff is and that there's much more to it than the overtures, the Ride of the Valkyries, and the other stuff that everyone knows. But I found no more depth in Mahler than I ever had. I'm thinking that that doesn't just have to do with classical vs. romantic or determined vs. underdetermined music -- after all, I love preludes, fantasias, ballets, and other free-form or improvisational works. Rather it has to do with the richness of the skill and intellect that has been applied to a problem. And that isn't just a matter of some kind of global musical ability, but of where a composer's training and affinity take him. It seems to me that if we were to compare Brahms and Tchaikovsky, we'd all say that the former's primary gift was formal and developmental, while the latter's primary gift was melodic, and that both were masters of harmony. And each of them fell down when they attempted to work in the areas in which they were less comfortable. So in a sense, that's my beef with Tchaikovsky -- that he spent too much time working in forms that didn't suit his particular genius. (Some would say the same of Schubert, but Schubert's innate genius was so extraordinary that I don't have the same problem with his developmental difficulties, besides which, I think some of that is that he died at a time when his skill was developing rapidly.)
I've also been reading up this year on what some great composers said about one another -- Google makes that sort of research, which might once have required a musicologist's knowledge, easy. And I think it's a fascinating way of seeing how perceptions differ. Also fun. For example, three statements by Wagner on Brahms:
I know renowned composers you shall meet, today at concert masquerades, in garb of street minstrel, tomorrow in the "Hallelujah" perruke of Handle, the day after as a Jewish tuner-up of Csardas, and later as solemn symphonists, disguised as Number Ten.
[ . . . ]
In our symphonies and that sort of thing all now goes world-distraught and castastrophic; we are gloomy and grim, then mettlesome and daring; we yearn for the fulfilment of youthful dreams; demonic obstacles encompass us; we brood, we even rave; and then the world-ache's tooth is drawn, we laugh and humorously show the world its gaping gum; brisk, sturdy, blunt, Hungarian, or Scotch -- alas, to others dreary.
[ . . . ]
"A certain clammy cast of melody which its creators had transplanted from their heretofore retiring chamber music . . . What had previously been dressed as quintets and the like, was now served up as symphony; little chips of melody, like an infusion of hay and old tea-leaves, with nothing to tell you what you are swallowing but the label 'best,' and all for the acquired taste of world-ache."
So jealous and mean, and yet astute, funny, and compelling.
Tchaikovsky's references to Brahms are also characterized by jealousy, a least initially, but not spitefulness. He studies Brahms, but could never figure him out:
"Brahms's [Violin] Concerto appealed to me just as little as everything else he has written. He is of course a great musician and even a master, but [in his works] there is more mastery than inspiration. Lots of preparations as it were for something, lots of hints that something is going to appear very soon and enchant you, but nothing does come out of it all, except for boredom. His music is not warmed by genuine feeling; it has no poetry; what it has instead is enormous pretension to depth. However, in this depth there is nothing—it's just empty space. For example, let us take the opening of the concerto. It is beautiful as the introduction to something; it is like a splendid pedestal for a column, but the actual column is missing, and, instead, what comes immediately after one pedestal is simply another pedestal. I don't know whether I'm adequately expressing my thoughts, or rather the feeling which Brahms's music instils in me. What I'm trying to get at is that he never actually says anything, and if he does, then he fails to say it completely. His music consists of skilfully pasted-together fragments of something. The overall design lacks distinctiveness, colour, and life. However, I think that quite apart from all these specific criticisms I should above all say that Brahms, as a musical personality, is simply antipathetic to me—I can't stand him. No matter how much he tries, I always remain cold and hostile. This is a purely instinctive reaction."
Or this:
"With regard to Brahms I do not quite agree with Your Highness. In the music of this master (for his mastery can of course not be denied) there is something dry and cold which repels my heart. He has very little melodic inventiveness; his musical thoughts are never spoken out to their conclusion; no sooner has one heard a suggestion of a melodic form that can be easily appreciated, than the latter has already sunk into a whirlpool of meaningless harmonic progressions and modulations. It's just as if this composer had deliberately set himself the task of being unintelligible; what he does is precisely to tease and irritate one's musical feeling. He does not wish to satisfy the latter's needs, he is afraid to speak in a language that reaches the heart. His depth isn't real—elle est voulue [French = 'it is assumed, artificial']—he seems to have decided once and for all that it is necessary to be profound, and it is true that he has a semblance of depth, but only a semblance. His profundity is empty. One can't say that Brahms's music is feeble and insignificant. His style is always elevated; he never chases after outward effects, he is never banal; everything in him is serious and noble, but the most important thing is missing—beauty. It is impossible not to respect Brahms; one cannot fail to bow before the chaste purity of his aspirations; one cannot but marvel at his steadfastness and proud refusal to make the least concession to triumphant Wagnerism, but it is difficult to like him. In my case at any rate, no matter how much I've tried, I simply haven't been able to. By the way, I should, though, make the following reservation: namely, that some of Brahms's works from his early period (for example, his string sextet in B♭ major) do appeal to me infinitely more than his later ones, especially the symphonies, which seem to me incredibly boring and colourless. If it is disagreeable to Your Highness that I have expressed my dislike of Brahms's music in such sharp terms, then pray forgive me. Many Brahmsians (amongst them Bülow) have been telling me that one day I will see the light and begin to appreciate the beauties of his music, which to me are now unattainable, and that is not impossible, since there really have been such cases. Brahms's Deutsches Requiem I hardly know at all. I shall order a copy of the score and set about studying it. Who knows, perhaps there will indeed be a drastic change in my attitude to Brahms?"
http://www.tchaikovsky-research.org/en/people/brahms_johannes.html
Interesting, isn't it? He seems unable to see how those fragments make an emotional and sensible whole, whereas Wagner, for all his antipathy and references to hay, has clearly experienced the emotional effect that Brahms intended. I remember that, when I first heard Brahms, my reaction was the same as Tchaikovsky's, yet like most people I soon caught on. How is it that we ordinary listeners experience the same emotional effects that Wagner did, while Tchaikovsky, a genius, couldn't? The best explanation I've been able to come up with is that Tchaikovsky wasn't exposed to German music in his youth, and so, his genius notwithstanding, he never achieved a native speaker's fluency. For him, it was always a foreign language. But it's just a guess.
Of course, when I was at Stanford, I didn't have much to do with CCRMA, and in any case, I think he arrived there after I was already gone.
Yes, I'm familiar with those Tchaikovsky quotes about Brahms. Although I do not agree with them, I still find them amusing. (Maybe you do too?) With regard to the Germanic forms, Tchaikovsky was taught by the Rubinstein brothers (especially Nikolai), and thus was strongly influenced by Germanic theory to an extent that the Balakirev circle was blissfully free of (despite Balakirev's championing of and respect for Schumann). So I'm not sure about the fluency question.
But here's an another interesting thing: I do not know of another composer who could be mistaken for Tchaikovsky. Not one. But there are quite a few other composers, some of whose works could be mistaken for Brahms, including von Herzogenberg, early Dohnanyi, Bruch (especially choral works such as "Salute to Christmas"), and others. Even some parts of Schumann's later works could be mistaken for Brahms - I'm thinking of things such as the final chorus of "Der Rose Pilgerfahrt", which sounds preternaturally like one of the Brahms works for women's chorus, two horns and harp, Op. 17. What are we to make of this? That Brahms's style is more easily aped? That he was more influential? I don't know. But I do feel that Brahms is less of a unique figure in music than he is often made out to be.
Good call on the chorus from "Der Rose Pilgerfahrt." Parts of it could be right out of the German Requiem, couldn't they.
It doesn't surprise me that Brahms would have been influenced by Schumann, and, perhaps, in the brief span left to him after they met, Schumann by Brahms. It doesn't surprise me either that Brahms would be aped, given his stature, but I don't know of another composer I'd mistake for him, because I don't see how they could imitate his genius. As in what they said about Sussmayer, that Mozart taught him so well that he mastered Mozart's style, but not his genius.
Even when a genius intentionally imitates another genius, e.g., when Beethoven and Mozart imitate Bach, the result is in my experience subtly different.
I'm guessing that Tchaikovsky's difficulty with German form had to do not with his training, but with the fact that he didn't have much exposure to German works in his youth. It seems to be a problem with intuition, not a matter of training. After all, he appreciated neither Bach nor Brahms, and yet a lot of people without his or for that matter any formal musical training do. But, who knows? I've noticed that many people get more pleasure out of relatively unstructured late romantic works than I do, including people who clearly don't hear what I do in the baroque and classical repertoire. It may be that we have areas of musical blindness, even geniuses like Tchaikovsky and Brahms (who didn't like Tchaikovsky's music any more than Tchaikovsky liked his).
Post a Followup:
| FAQ |
Post a Message! |
Forgot Password? |
|
||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||
This post is made possible by the generous support of people like you and our sponsors:
Top of Page ]
[ Contact Us ]
[ Support/Wish List ]
[ Copyright © 2025, Audio Asylum, all rights reserved ]
