Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

contemporary music.
He was first going to play the Passacaglia and Fugue in c-Minor by the much-neglected
Johann Sebastian Bach to show how Bach deliberately used harmonies in an abstract way to
balance mind and emotions in his music.
"Most of Bach’s compositions were intended for the religious services of the Lutheran
Church, which gave them structure and purpose. Today we replace this service of God with an
unbridled celebration of our personal emotions. We compose music to entertain the masses—
or, occasionally, to please the critics.
"We need to invent a totally new tonal art, a new way of composing which reflects our
changing perceptions of the individual. If this new music sounds eclectic, so be it. Such a
musical notation does not exist as yet, but it will and has to come."
He pointed at his six musicians. "I arranged Bach’s Passacaglia, which was written for
organ, for string sextet to make the composition sound closer to the music that follows.
Subsequently I will play two pieces for you in which one of my students and I will show you a
possible transition from the prevailing Romantic tradition to a new tonality."
Schönberg led his six musicians through the Bach at a fast pace, however, he paid
lavish attention to the towering chords that separate the Durchführungen of the theme in the
Passacaglia. The powerful dissonances stood above the counterpoint like strange
manifestations of Gothic religiosity. He had carefully orchestrated the subsequent fugue so that
each voice had its own transparent timbre.
He was rewarded by generous applause, but one man shouted. "Herr Schönberg, you
murdered the solemn piece with your fast pace, this is contemplative music, andante
sostenuto."
Schönberg, undaunted, shrugged. "I did play it faster than Bach intended, to show how
Baroque music can sound disturbingly modern. Ours is not a prayer meeting! Besides I am not
playing an old, asthmatic organ with its pneumatic delay between keyboard and sound. You
simply could not play the piece that fast on an organ. Look," he commended his players with an
extended hand, "I use a body of living musicians. I am certain Bach would forgive me."
Friedrich initiated another enthusiastic round of applause.
"The next piece for six strings, I wrote six years ago. It was my first larger composition.
Heavily indebted to Wagner, Mahler, and Herrn Strauss," he bowed in the direction of a
gentleman in the audience, "In retrospect I now feel that it was my first attempt at overcoming
the post-Romantic musical idiom. However, this piece, entitled Verklärte Nacht, is still a tone
poem, a programmatic indulgence. It is closely set to words by Richard Dehmel. However, I
would like for you to listen to its musical message without attaching yourself to the underlying
words of the poem."
He bowed with a mock-apologetic smile. "Copies of Dehmel’s poem will be available
after the performance."
The music was indeed exceedingly eloquent. It began in a dark, wistful mood in the
bass. The succeeding pessimistic passage ended in a dramatic culmination, a highly emotional
cry for justice, love, or salvation. Thereafter the mood brightened. A consoling interlude, maybe
some higher power trying to elevate the crying soul, led to a vision of a sweet and beautiful,
celestial realm, forgiveness, heaven, peace?
This time the applause was more convincing, most people seemed comfortable with the
musical vernacular. The dissatisfied minority was younger than Schönberg.
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