Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

He held up the disc. "Thank God, modern technology came to my rescue in form of
phonograph discs, which permit me to hear the piece of music again and again during my
work."
He carefully placed the disc on the phonograph, cranked the machine, and very
delicately lowered the needle into the groove.
A crackling noise came from the speaker funnel and then suddenly an instrument with a
brassy, crowing sound rose, described a large arc, screeched to a high register only to fall
back to a melody in the lowest bass. A piano with a strange syncopated rhythm hacked the
melody to pieces. Drums and cymbals took over the beat. The brass instrument went silent for
a stretch leaving the drummer and the piano in a frenzy of rhythmic figures. The drummer in an
attack of wild madness picked up the melody.
Impossible. A drum making music? With great virtuosity the drummer performed a solo
ending in a cadence of rhythmic noise until the brass burst in again, crowing with full force for a
few bars, sweeping up the other instruments—and always this relentless, driving, swinging,
syncopated, overheated beat.
Composition VII, Version 2, 1913, Lenbachhaus, Munich
Claudia and Clara sat shocked in stony silence. Alexandra fought against a flood of vivid
colors, spirals, blobs pulsating with the rhythm, they attacked her whole body. She focused on
the painting, and its lines and blotches began to dance, shamelessly. An image of Konrad in
front of the Gauguin paintings at Becky’s house passed before Alexandra’s mind. The
onslaught of this music was many times more "obscene" than the Gauguins, a mixture of
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