THE. THEEREES SF IOSEF RATHAS HAUER:
AN ENGUSH TRANSLATEON 0F SELECTED W‘RlTiNGS WETHV
€R§T§CAL COMMENYARY AND A LEST 0F WORKS

Disseriat‘sen for the Degree of Ph. D.
E‘e‘tECHiGAN STATE UNIVERSITY
ROGER SYANLEY GUSTAFSON

19??

 

This is to certify that the

thesis entitled
The Theories of Josef Mattias Hauer: An

English Translation of Selected writings

'With Critical Commentafir and a List of WOrks
presente by

Roger Stanley Gustafson

Q
has been accepted towards fulfillment
of the requirements for

1311.1). degree in Music

 

Datefl. 18 1977

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ABSTRACT
THE THEORIES OF JOSEF MATTIAS HAUER: AN ENGLISH
TRANSLATION OF SELECTED WRITINGS WITH CRITICAL
COMMENTARY AND A LIST OF WORKS
BY

Roger Stanley Gustafson

Outside of Austria and Germany, little is known about
the Austrian theorist and twelve-tone composer, Josef
Mattias Hauer. There are several reasons for this situ—
ation, the principal one being that the theoretical works
were written in German and, until now, have never been
translated either in part or in 3939. The purpose of this
study is to translate into English the three most important
treatises of Hauer. The three works in question are

Vom Wesen des Musikalischen: Grundlagen der Zwblftonmusik

 

(The Essence of Musicality: Foundations of Twelve-Tone

 

Music), Vom Melos zur Pauke: Eine Einfflhrung in die

 

 

Zwblftonmusik (From Melos to the Kettledrum: An Introduc-

 

tion to Twelve-Tone Music) and Zwblftontechnik: Die Lehre

 

 

von den Tropen (Twelve-Tone Technique: The Theory of the

 

Tropes.) In addition to the translations, there is a list
of works which includes information necessary to dis-
tinguish individual compositions (with and without opus
numbers) from one another.

Hauer (1883-1959), as these three treatises demon-

strate, was a unique and original composer and theorist

 

 

 

Roger Stanley Gustafson

who attempted to rectify the weakness which he saw in the
music of the late nineteenth century. Fundamental to his
ideas is the concept of music as a nonsensual, objective
form of art which relies on the twelve tones of the equal-
tempered system of tuning, particularly on their inherent
intervals, as a means of achieving objectivity. According
to Hauer, only music which is based on this system and
played on instruments capable of equal temperament

(piano, organ, harmonium and harpsichord) can approach
this "sacred" state. For him, total objectivity was
achieved after he had considered all the possible combina-
tions and permutations of the chromatic scale and

grouped them into forty-four tone constellations or, as

he calls them, tropes. It was upon these forty-four
tropes, which result from "totality," that he based his
compositions. Hauer's first twelve-tone composition
(Noyes) was written in 1919.

In the treatises, Hauer discusses his concept of
music, as briefly related above, and attempts to find
support for his system in the overtone series as well as
in a re-examination of individual intervals and the
manner in which they are perceived by the human ear. It
is from the interval (the single sound event) that every-
thing is derived: melos (the melodic element), rhythm,
timbre, etc. In a philosophical manner, he compares the
individual pitches as they relate to C (hence intervals)

to what Goethe in his Farbenlehre had to say in 1810

 

Roger Stanley Gustafson

about color, light and the light spectrum. Hauer
believed that only after a musician had come to an under-
standing of such ideas was he ready to engage in the act
of composition. For the composer, Hauer gives particular
instructions on the way one should select a trope, incor—
porate that trope in a composition and approach voice
leading, etc.

It is in The Essence of Musicality (1920 and 1923

 

with a new edition by Robert Lienau, Berlin, in 1966) that
Hauer explores the fundamentals of music and gives a
preliminary explanation of twelve-tone music. In From

Melos to the Kettledrum (Universal Edition, 1925) and

 

Twelve-Tone Technique (Universal Edition, 1926), he

 

provides the practical application of his theories to
composition. Among these applications found in the latter
two treatises, is an explanation of Hauer's ingenious
twelve-tone system of notation which (through an alter—
nating series of two and three lines with intervening
spaces) is based on the arrangement of the white and

black notes of the keyboard.

For Hauer, twelve-tone music was an all-embracing
concept through which he saw a reconciliation of various
areas of human endeavor such as differing philosophies,
creeds, languages, etc. In addition, it was a mode of
meditation through which the composer could come to a
better understanding of himself and his relation to the

universe and its Creator.

THE THEORIES OF JOSEF MATTIAS HAUER:

    
 

AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION 0F SELECTED WRITINGS WITH
'CRITICAL COMMENTARY AND A LIST OF WORKS

BY
Roger Stanley Gustafson

A DISSERTATION

Submitted to

Michigan State University

in partial fulfillment of the requirements
fa; the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of Music
1977

V

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PREFACE

It is safe to say that, outside of his native Austria
and neighboring Germany, very little is known about Josef
Mattias Hauer as a composer or theorist. The little that
is known about him generally rests on the fact that Hauer,
like his contemporary Arnold Schdnberg, subscribed to a
twelve-tone method of composition. It is usually further
assumed that both men wrote in the same manner, and, because
of this, any differences which existed between the two com-
posers and their individual conceptions of the twelve-tone
method of composition are overlooked. If anything else is
known about Hauer, it generally concerns the still existing
controversy over the issue of the actual "inventor" of the
system.

That such a situation exists is not surprising, when
one realizes that in present-day Austria and Germany,

Hauer is still published, performed, written about and, in
general, considered to be a composer and theorist of some
merit who did more than compose music in the same manner
as Schdnberg. In the rest of the world, however, only the
briefest accounts of the man and his work are to be found
in sources written in a language other than German, and
almost none of his works are ever performed. This pre-
dicament is attributable partly to the fact that Schdnberg,

with his great ability to project to the musical public his

. personality and his ideas on music, overshadowed Hauer (and

iii

 

~—_..‘.--_. w

 

 

continues to do so), partly to Hauer's self-confessed
"disagreeable personality"1 and partly to Hauer's re-
condite ideas and manner of presenting those ideas.

It is to the latter of these three reasons for Hauer's
seeming lack of popularity that the present study is pri-
marily addressed. There are great numbers of books and
periodical articles written about Hauer in German but only
the barest handful of articles or encyclopedia entries in
English, thus preventing those who do not possess a working
knowledge of German from obtaining anything more than the
briefest accounts of Hauer's theories. Even with a fair
command of German, the average person would find that
reading Hauer's works in German was at best, difficult;
Hauer often wrote in a confused and turgid style,2 which
is filled with puns, outmoded vocabulary, dialectical ex-
pressions and, in general, poor syntax.

It is hoped that an English translation of the
important theories of Hauer will aid in understanding and

assessing what Hauer had to say, particularly as it might

 

l. Josef Mattias Hauer, Vom Melos zur Pauke: Eine
Einfflhrung in die Zwolftontechnik (Vienna: Universal
Edition, 1925), 20.

 

2. Hauer himself realized that this was a problem for
him. In the Foreword to his Vom Melos zur Pauke, Hauer
expresses hope that there are people “who are able to
penetrate my clumsy schoolmaster German in order to
reach that point where an interest in twelve-tone music
could begin."

iv

 

 

differ from what other writers had to say about twelve-
tone music. The three treatises of Hauer given here in
translation are Vom‘Wesen'desggusikalischen: Grundlagen

der xwdlftonmusik (The EsSence of MusiCality5' FOundations

 

of TWelve-Tone Music), vom Melos zur Pauke:‘Eine‘Einffihrung

 

in die zwolftonmusik (From Melos to the Kettledrum: An In-

 

troduction to TWelve-Tone Music) and zwblftontechnik: Die

 

 

Lehre von den Tropen (Twelve—Tone Technique: The Theory

 

of the Tropes).
It is with great pleasure that I acknowledge all those

who have aided me in the preparation of this dissertation.
I would first like to thank Professor Richard E. Klausli
for being the one to introduce me to the music and theories
of Hauer as well as providing so much help and encourage-
ment. To the other members of my Doctoral Committee,

Dr. Russell Friedewald, Dr. Theodore Johnson and Dr. James
Niblock, I wish to extend my gratitude for their time and
most helpful suggestions concerning the translations. I

am particularly grateful to Bruno Hauer, Mattias Hauer's
son, and to Oktavian von Spitzmfiller, Senior Editor at
Universal Edition in Vienna, for the many kindnesses which
they extended to me when I met with them in Vienna in 1973
and again in 1975. From Bruno Hauer I obtained much orig-
inal information concerning the biography of his father as
well as material which made a corrected works-list possible.
Herr von Spitzmfiller very kindly provided me with copies of

all works of Hauer which were either out of print or existed

 

 

 

only in manuscript score and for which Universal Edition

had copies in their archives. My thanks also go to
Victor Sokolowski, Director of the Hauer Seminar and
Hauer-Kreis in Vienna, for the long interview at which
he provided me with many personal insights into Hauer's
theories. I gratefully acknowledge The University of
Western Ontario and The Canada Council for the travel
funds which made possible my research in Vienna.

My special thanks go to my friend and colleague,

Dr. Gerhard Wuensch, for his interest and for his advice
concerning the translation, particularly as it pertained
to the sections containing Viennese dialect and gram-
matically obtuse ideas. Without such help, the transla-
tion of these portions would be much the poorer.

Finally, I would like to thank the publishing houses
of Universal Edition, A.G., Vienna, and Robert Lienau,
Berlin, for their kind consent to allow me to employ the
three treatises appearing here in translation. From
Universal Edition, I received permission to use Vom Melos
zur Pauke and Zwolftontechnik, and from Robert Lienau I

received permission to use Vom Wesen des Musikalischen.

vi

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION 0 O l O U I O I O I O O O O 1

THE ESSENCE OF MUSICALITY: FOUNDATIONS
or TWELVE-TONE MUSIC . . . . . . . . . . 23

FROM MELOS TO THE KETTLEDRUM: AN
INTRODUCTION TO TWELVE-TONE MUSIC. . . .9112

 

 

TWELVE-TONE TECHNIQUE: THE THEORY OF
THE TROPES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14°

CONCLUSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179

LIST OF WORKS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 188

may I a o o a o o o 0 o a o c ' o a o o o o a 209

vii

 

 

 

Chapter I

INTRODUCTION

In order to understand Hauer, the man and the musician,
his musical training, the external influences which, in
part, guided him, as well as the influence he has had on
music of this century, an exposition of the most essential
biographical information is in order. Hauer was born in
1883 in the city of Wiener Neustadt which, as its name
implies, is not far removed from Vienna. His first ac-
quaintance with music occurred at about age five when his
father began teaching him the zither and the basic elements
of harmony.1 From this time until he attended the local
teacher's college and received a more formal music educa—
tion, he was almost entirely self taught. The five years
spent at the teacher's college included instruction in
piano, organ, cello and voice.

Following his studies and the completion of the state
examinations for teaching, he taught in Wiener Neustadt
while making his first attempts at composition. During

this time he was also active as an organist and choirmaster

 

1. Josef Mattias Hauer, Deutungd es Melos: Eine Frage

an die Kunstler und Denker unserer Zeit (Vienna:

 

 

 

and as cellist in a string quartet.2 In 1907 he married
Leopoldine HBnig. Three children resulted from this mar-
riage of which one, Bruno, is actively carrying on the work
of his father by publishing or republishing many of his
father's compositions (particularly those written since
1939) at his Fortissimo Verlag in Vienna.

The years 1918 and 1919 were extremely important for
Hauer, for they mark the beginning of his theoretical
writing as well as his first experiments with twelve-tone
composition. The beginning of his theoretical writing is
seen in a short treatise which Hauer published at his own

expense in 1918 entitled Uber die Klangfarbe. Actual com—

 

position took place while he was recuperating from a serious
illness after the fulfillment of his military obligation in
the First World war. It was during this period of enforced
rest that he discovered, as he tells us, "the twelve-tone
laws."3 This discovery resulted in a work for piano (or
harmonium) entitled nggg, Op. 19, which was his first
composition organized totally according to the newly

found principles of twelve-tone construction. (According

to Hauer, this was not only his first piece of twelve-tone

music but the world's as well.)

 

2. Monika Lichtenfeld, "Untersuchungen zur Theorie der
Zwfilftontechnik bei Josef Mattias Hauer, " Kblner
Beitrage zur Musikforschung, ed. Karl Gustav Fellerer
(Regensburg: Gustav Bosse Verlag, 1964), XXIX, l.

 

3. Josef Mattias Hauer,0"Vom Melos zur Pauke: nEine
Einffihrung in die Zwolftonmusik," TheOretische
‘Schriften (Vienna: Universal Edition, 1925), I, 18.

 

3
After the war, Hauer settled in Vienna, resuming his
career as a teacher for a short period of time while
furthering his investigation of and experimentation with

the twelve-tone "laws." The results of this investigation

and experimentation are found in the three treatises which

 

are the subject of this study. From this period until the
( time of his death in 1959, Hauer lived in Vienna4 in a
state of almost total reclusion, associating with only a

l few friends, teaching only a few pupils and sequestering
) himself in his study for long periods of time during which
he was not seen even by his family.5 His means of finan-
cial support during this long period of time was assured
by an inheritance from his wife's family, by city and state
grants and pensions and by money given to him by Erich
K6chert, a wealthy jeweler and philanthropist who had an
abiding interest in the arts.6

From the earliest days of his professional career,
Hauer shared the friendship of and, in some cases, was in-

fluenced by some of the most outstanding people Vienna had

 

4. Hauer lived the entire period in the same house. This
house, at Benogasse 2, was torn down in the summer of
. 1973, ("Im Haus Bennogasse 2 1ebte auch ein Komponist,"
. Wiener Kurier, August, 1973).

5. This was told to me by Bruno Hauer in a conversation
we had on December 19, 1975.

6. The descendents of K6chert still possess one of the
largest collections of Hauer's manuscripts and personal
effects.

ww'—_

 

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to offer in the field of the arts. His early associations
were with the philosopher Ferdinand Ebner, the "Bauhaus"
painter Johannes Itten and the painter Erwin Lang. These
and other persons amenable to Hauer‘s mode of thought and
interests met on a regular basis to exchange ideas and to
discuss their latest studies. Later in his life, this
"Hauer-Circle" included the painters Herbert Boeckl,
Josef Dobrowski and Fritz Wbrtruba and the art historian
Johannes Schwieger. Hauer's personal manner and uncon-
ventional philosophy, particularly as it concerned music,
also appealed to several writers of the day, for, in
several instances, Hauer was employed as the model for a
character in a novel. Authors who made use of Hauer in
this fashion include Otto Stoessl (Sonnenmelodie),

Hermann Hesse (Das Glasperlenspiel) and Franz Werfel

 

(Verdi: Roman der Oper).7

 

In comparison to his contemporaries (R. Strauss,
Schfinberg, Bartok and others), Hauer had what Herbert
Eimert called an "undistinguished career."8 This situation
was caused largely by his perverse personality and his
seeming lack of desire to exploit his own compositions.

In spite of this, there were several occasions at which

 

7. Lichtenfeld, 7.

8. Herbert-Eimert,-“Hauer, Josef Mattias,“'Musik'in
GeSChichte und Ge enwart, 15 vols., ed. Friederich
Blume (Kassel: Barenreiter, 1949-75), V, 1823—24.

 

Hauer was recognized for his talents. Hermann Scherchen
was the instigator of two very important performances of
Hauer's works; it was at Scherchen's suggestion and under

his conductorship that the seventh Suite for Orchestra,

 

Op. 48, was performed at Frankfurt a/M. in 1927 and that
the chamber oratorio wandlungen, Op. 53, was performed at
Baden-Baden in 1928. Performances of similar importance
include a concert-version of sections of the opera
Salambo, Op. 60, at Berlin in 1930 conducted by Otto
Klemperer and the premier of Der Menschen Weg, Op. 67, in
1953 conducted by Hans Rosbaud in Vienna.

Governmental recognition came from two sources:
Russia and Austria. In 1930 Hauer was invited to Leningrad
by the Russian Commissar of Education who knew and approved
of Hauer's ideas and style of composition. For personal
reasons, Hauer declined the invitation. In the same year,
he was given an honorary stipend-pension by the city of
Vienna. Further honors were bestowed upon him when he was
made an Honorary Member of the Vienna Concert-House Society
(Die Konzerthausgesellschaft) in 1953 and when the federal
government granted him the title "Professor" and awarded
him the Grand Prize of Austria (Grosse Osterreichische
Staatspreis) in 1954 and 1956 respectively.

Between the years 1938 and 1945, Hauer, like so many
Other composers and artists, suffered great humiliation and

financial loss at the hands of the ruling government. Since

 

he did not compose in a style amenable to the authorities

(his works, like those of others, were classified as deca-
dent and degenerateg), his stipend from the city of Vienna
was retracted and further performances of his works were
prohibited. In spite of suffering for professional rea-
sons, Hauer, as a Christian, was fortunate in not having
to endure the indignities and persecution to which many

of his contemporaries were subjected.

Hauer's relationship with Schdnberg is a subject
which has been frequently discussed, but a few words con-
cerning this aspect of Hauer's life are necessary in order
for us to understand one of the predominant themes in
Hauer's thoughts and writings. In the early stages of
their relationship, there existed a certain respect if not
the ingredients of friendship. Schbnberg, in the third
edition of his Harmonielehre of 1922, stated that Hauer's
music, while perhaps serving more as a model to fit a

10 In 1925, Hauer re—

theory, "reveals creative gifts."
sponded to this friendly gesture by dedicating his

treatise, Vom Melos zur Pauke, to Schbnberg. There were

 

other instances of a similar nature such as the decision to
collaborate on a book which would explain the different
conceptions each composer had of twelve-tone composition.

Unfortunately, this last idea never came to fruition.

 

9. Lichtenfeld, 8.

10. Arnold Schdnberg, Harmonielehre (Vienna: Universal
Edition, 1922), 488.

 

 

Relations between the two men, the aforementioned
acts of friendship notwithstanding, soon degenerated into
a state of animosity with Hauer stating that Schdnberg
had stolen from him his method of composing with twelve
tones. Hauer even went so far as to utter antisemetic
remarks about Schdnberg in letters to his colleagues11
and to have rubber stamps (which were used rather liberally
on letters and scores) made bearing statements attesting to
his authorship of the system as well as his importance as
a composer. In one such case he stated: "the spiritual
creator and, in spite of many imitators, still the sole
person knowledgeable about and capable of creating twelve-
tone music." Hauer's almost pathological hatred of I
Sch6nberg was a recurring theme with him for over thirty
years.

Seen in the broadest of terms, Hauer was an eclectic
who, as a thinker and creator, found his intellectual
roots in such diverse disciplines as mathematics, geometry,
literature and philosophy (both occidental and oriental with
emphasis on the latter). In addition, he was also inter-
ested in physics and psychology, particularly as they are

applied to the production and perception of musical sound.

 

ll. Alois Melichar, Musik in der Zwangsjacke: Die
Deutsche Musik zwischen Orff und Schonberg (Vienna:
Eduafd Wancura Verlag, 1959), 274—278. (Melichar
quotes a letter which Hauer wrote to an unidentified
friend in 1917. In the letter, Hauer discusses a
meeting which the two composers had, and continues by
giving a very candid assessment of what he thought
about Schbnberg as a man and as a composer.)

 

 

From the earliest period of his life, he studied the works
of Mozart, Bach, Beethoven, etc., and, to one degree or
another, was influenced by the compositions of these ad-
mitted masters. It was not long, however, before he began
to repudiate the works of these composers, stating that the
very foundation upon which these works were built (i.e.,
tonality) was outmoded and, even in its own time, was a
misguided and ill-conceived system upon which to construct
a piece of music. Following his "thorough investigation

of the laws" and along with his increasing dissatisfaction
with the concept of tonality, he literally set out on his
own and consciously tried to apply to music the ideas he
had gained from his acquaintance with his friends Itten

and Ebner and others, as well as from his extensive reading,
which included such authors as Plato, Boethius, Cassiadorus,
Goethe and the philosophers of the orient. In his delib-
erate attempt to divorce himself from the influence of
music of previous periods, he sold or gave away what was
purported to be a rather extensive library of books and
scores, all of which he had acquainted himself with and
which were no longer of any use to him. Hauer's son,
Bruno, was most emphatic about the point that the only

book belonging to his father at the time of his death was

I Ching, The Book of Change .12

 

 

12. Conversation with Bruno Hauer, December 19, 1975.

 

As a composer, Hauer wrote more than is commonly
believed: ninety-two works with opus numbers and virtually
hundreds without opus numbers. If Hauer's list of works
were to be divided into style periods, there would be three
basic divisions. The first period comprises all the com-
positions written up to 1919 when, with Op. 19, he began
organizing his compositions according to the twelve-tone
principle. The second period covers the years 1919 to
1939. The compositions of this period have opus numbers
which, as already stated, begin with Op. 19 and proceed to
Op. 92. Included in this group are works employing the
twelve-tone organization in all genres, from opera to
string quartet, to works for piano, voice, cello, orchestra,
etc. The third period of composition is represented by
works which, for the most part, do not use opus numbers
and which were written between 1939 and the year of his
death in 1959. Most of the works of this period, almost
to the exclusion of any other type of composition, are
what Hauer early on referred to as delftdnespiel (game
with twelve tones) and later simply as delftonspiel
(twelve—tone game). Since few of these works were numbered
(those that are numbered have Roman numerals) and since he
was known to have written so many ( a number of which
are thought to be lost or destroyed), no accurate number
of compositions from this period can be stated. A great

proportion of these works are for piano, either two or four

 

10

hands, but other instruments and groups of instruments are
represented as well. Because almost all of them lack opus
numbers and all share the same title (Zwolftonspiel),
Hauer often dated them with the month and year of comple-
tion (May, 1955) or, in some cases, with an important
holiday (Christmas, 1946).

As can be seen in the translation of his three impor-
tant treatises which follow, Hauer's ideas concerning
twelve-tone music are substantially different from those
of Schdnberg, or at least those that are generally taken as
being representative of twelve-tone music. Central to
Hauer's concept of the system is the idea that music must
not be considered as a representational art, that is to
say, one which employs some extra-musical story or idea
as a point of departure. In taking this stand, he clearly
calls into question the entire area of program music and,
in fact, most of the music of the recent past, which he
claims is predicated on some element of a program. He
declares that such music is sensual and that sensuality
has no part in a pure art such as music. He states further
that absolute music (i.e., music which is free of all extra-
musical associations) is the only type Of music of any
worth. In the latter period of his life Hauer wrote and
printed a list of aphorisms which quite clearly reveal the
seriousness with which he took his concept of absolute

music. Given here in translation are two of those aphorisms:

 

11

For now and for all time, God has created
absolute music in all its perfection. In
the course of civilization, we human beings
strive to learn this sacred language of
God.

The language of the Creator is the art form
of art forms, the science of sciences, the
most holy, most spiritual and most precious
language of the world. This language is
music but music which is substantially dif-
ferent from the musically deprived notions
of tone painting and the symphonic poem,
from the ever "new" and modern CE tural
manure and from organized noise.

In order to achieve the goal of absolute music in its
purest state, the only mode of expression possible is
through the notes and intervals of the equal—tempered
system of tuning which divides the octave into twelve equal
divisions.

The tempered system having twelve equal

steps is the mouth of God which proclaims

life's commandments which, in turn, provide

order to the orld and plot the course of

the planets.
Equal temperament, as Hauer states, can only be made
audible through the medium of instruments which lend them-
selves to equal temperament or are, in themselves, equal
tempered instruments. By his definition, these instruments

can only be the piano, harpsichord, harmonium, organ,

 

13. Found among a group of aphorisms printed on a single
page. A copy of this sheet was kindly given to me
by Bruno Hauer. The translation is mine.

14. Taken from a sheet of aphorisms given to me by Bruno
Hauer. The translation is mine.

 

 

12

celeste and the human voice. While he did write for other
instruments, he preferred these instruments because they
do not possess the disturbing timbres found in other
instruments; they allow the timbre inherent in the
individual interval to predominate when it is made physi-
cally audible.

It is at this point that we come to the most important
feature of Hauer's music and theories: the interval. It
is from the interval that all possibilities of music arise.
It is from the interval, which must be listened to in an
intellectual manner, that melody and timbre come about.
"Everything purely musical is contained in the interval--

15

everything." The most essential element contained in

the interval is "melos." To Hauer, melos is the point of
departure for all atonal music; it is also something within
the musician which must be developed very carefully.

We call melos the musical event and activity--
the tension existing between notes of various
pitch. Mind you, it is a musical process
which takes place in us. Melos is a purely
musical process in musical people which is
totally intellectual. The various notes are
only the physical and physiolggical pre-
requisite to this experience.

 

l5. Josef Mattias Hauer, Vom Wesen des Musikalischen:
Grundlagen der delftonmusik (Berlin, 1923), new ed.
by Victor Sokolowski (Berlin: Robert Lienau, 1966),
13. Used "with the permission of the original
publisher: Robert Lienau, Berlin."

16. Hauer, Vom Melos zur Pauke, 9.

 

 

13

Melos, considered in this manner, is the precursor of
melody or, at least, of the melodic or lyric element of
music.

In addition to this, it is something more. Melos is
not only the beginning of melody but also "the nucleus of
timbre" and rhythm.

As soon as we sing an interval, i.e., sing
its melody, we make a "musical" gesture.
This expresses itself in a certain rhythm
and conveys to us the "meaning" of color-—
of the interval. On the other hand, melody
(as it creatively arises in us) with its
rhythm (expression) is unfolded in the
interval and, consequently, in the timbre
of the sounding body.

Any further definition of melos is difficult; melos is to
be experienced by the musician through musical and intel-
lectual listening to melodies. The discussion of the in-
terval and melos is summed up in these words:

The essence of the interval rests squarely
on the fact that an unknown something (con-
spicuous to the eye in score form but by a
long shot no "more familiar" and no "more
easier to grasp“) moves from one note to
another as from C to D, for example, or
from F to C. It does not mean, however,
that two isolated pitches sound in suc-
cession or simultaneously as a sound event
capable of standing by itself without that
inner connection which is not possible to
describe further. Briefly stated: the
essence of the intervalsis motion. The
interval is a gesture.

 

l7. Hauer, Vom Wesen des Musikalischen, 13. Used "with
the permission of the original publisher: Robert
Lienau, Berlin."

18. Ibid. Used "with the permission of the original
publisher: Robert Lienau, Berlin."

 

F‘At
rd"

A-
u

v...

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no.

q
1.
IA.

"

 

‘.3

EJ

 

Hence, melos is the motion or melodic implication which

exists between two isolated pitches. Taken in its
"totality," it controls both timbre and rhythm.

Since the interval, with its melic implications, is
the root of atonal music, Hauer tells us that he organized
and classified the melic possibilities of the twelve equal
tempered tones into forty—four groups or tropes, as he
calls them. What Hauer did was to consider all the possible
arrangements of the twelve tones (l x 2 x 3 x 4 x 5 x 6 x
7 x 8 x 9 x 10 x 11 x 12 = 479,001,600) and to arrange them
into groups which encompass those arrangements having simi-
lar characteristics. These forty-four constellations or
tropes are divided into two sets of six tones or two hexa-
chords. Unlike Schbnberg's rows, the tones in each half
of the tropes are not to be construed as being locked in a
fixed position, but as being more in the manner of "free
agents" which, as long as they stay in their half of the
row, may appear (vertically or horizontally) in any order.
The concept of having an oblong box with a divider at the
mid-point into which six marbles are placed on one side
and six on the other side would, perhaps, not be an im-
proper analogy. As long as the marbles stayed within the
confines of the half of the box to which they were as-
signed, they could be extracted in any order, providing
that all the marbles of one side were extracted before
proceeding to the other side. Is is interesting to note

that Hauer often used the trope-halves in reverse order.

 

 

15

In order to accommodate easy access to these tropes
and their use, Hauer devised a twelve—tone notation which,
he claims, aided him in the discovery of the tropes. The
type of notation involved is a tablature variety in which
groupings of two and three lines, with intervening spaces,
upon which notes are placed, represent a pictorial View
of the keyboard. In this notation, the lines represent
the black keys of the keyboard and the spaces the white
keys. "The octaves will be differentiated by clef signs
and the octave signs in the case of very high or very low
tones. The treble clef designates the one-line g-sharp
or a-flat, the alto clef one-line d and the bass clef

small g-sharp or a-flat."19

To Hauer, the advantage of
such a notation in his work was that it spread out the
music (i.e., trope) over a larger field, making the music
more easily perceived; it made the use of accidentals un-
necessary; and, it lent a certain degree of equality to
each note that was not possible in the "old system." In
line with this, Hauer states that in his system of nota-
tion it is no longer necessary for the composer to choose
between F-sharp and G-flat or D-flat and C—sharp, etc.
While Hauer preferred this system of notation and worked
out most of his later works in this system, few of his

published compositions appear in this form.

 

19. Josef Mattias Hauer, "delftontechnik: Die Lehre von
den Tropen," Theoretische Schriften (Vienna: Univer-
sal Edition, 1926), II, 1.

 

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'1)

 

16

In the course of his discussion on the creation of
twelve-tone music, Hauer says that there are four general
textures to which twelve—tone music is amenable, and that
there are certain instructions concerning voice leading
and doubling, etc., which should be observed. He is quite
careful to point out, however, that no rules or conven-
tions will be imposed on the reader: "I, who in all my
life have railed against prejudice and narrow-mindedness
and have had to suffer grievously because of this, will
certainly not slip into the mistake of concocting inhibi-
tive regulations which later could serve as an excuse for
shop-talk."20

Quite briefly stated, the four general textures are
as follows:

1) A trope is selected and used as the basis for the
melody as well as a simple chordal accompaniment.
Most examples of this style result of the series of al-
tered dominant sevenths, passing tones and open fifths
and octaves which are so apparent.

2) The second is really an incipient counterpoint which
is created by tying over different notes of the trope
and creating a polyphonic texture. Again, most of the

examples in this category can be analyzed along the

 

20. Ibid., 4.

.’A

In

17

lines of traditional harmony becauSe of the dominant-

seventh and augmented sixth chords which are also

apparent.

3) This type is what approaches true polyphony in three
or four voices. Examples of this type show the trope's
being divided into three or four note fragments and
being rotated among the various voices in an almost
stimmtausch fashion.

4) In the fourth, the division of the trope into the two
hexachords is visibly apparent. This is a vertical
(the word static is also applied) style in which there
may be three or four voices, but the trope is spread
out vertically among the voices. In this style, the
trope generally occupies a regular number of beats or
parts of a beat.

The three treatises which appear here in translation
were written in the eight year period between 1918 and
1926. The Essence of Musicalityir Foundations of Twelve-
Tone Music, which appears first, is derived from a work
which Hauer published at his own expense in 1918: fiber
die Klangfarbe (Concerning Timbre). This treatise was
reworked and expanded and appeared in 1920 as Vom Wesen des
Musikalischen: Grundlagen der Zwolftonmusik (The Essence
of Musicality; Foundations of Twelve-Tone Music), pub-
lished by Waldheim—Eberle. In 1923, the publishing house

of Robert Lienau, Berlin-Lichterfelde, brought out a

 

18

second edition. The edition upon which the present trans-
lation is based is the new edition of 1966 which combines
the original text of the first edition with that of the
second edition.

In The Essence of Musicality, Hauer gives an exposi—

 

tion of the underlying philosophy of his twelve-tone
system. He begins by discussing the manner in which
musical sound is produced and the manner in which it is per-
ceived or should be perceived. As a point of departure,

he uses the overtone spectrum to show how music has been
derived and how instruments came about. He proceeds with

a discussion of the musical imagination and a technical
discourse on the manner in which intervals are derived.

The latter is accomplished when he gives the vibra-

tion ratios of the individual intervals of pure tuning in
fractions and in decimals rounded off to the sixth place.
After this discussion of pure tuning, he continues by
stating that these pure intervals force the ear to listen
in a sensual manner which can only be overcome through

the adoption of the tempered system having twelve equal
half steps. The conclusion of the work is, in part, given
over to a discussion of all the intervals (octave, aug—
mented fourth, fifth, etc.) in which he compares the timbre
resulting from the melos of each pitch (keys and intervals
calculated from C) to the color theories of Johann Wolfgang

von Goethe as found in his Farbenlehre (Theory of ColOrs)

 

 

 

19

of 1810. For each pitch, he also gives specific charac-
teristics of rhythm and overall sound as they relate to
the musical repetory. In the final pages, he reiterates
the idea that intervals create timbre, and that timbre is
only obscured by orchestral instruments which have their
own specific timbre; atonal music derives from that ob—
jectivity found in the musical intuition which finds its
inspiration in equal tempered instruments (piano, har-
monium, etc.).

The two other treatises, From Melos to the Kettledrum
and Twelve-Tone Technique, appeared in 1925 and 1926 as
Volumes I and II, respectively, of his Theoretical Writ-
ings, published by Universal Edition, Vienna. In Volume I,
Hauer puts forth questions and, in the manner of a
catechism, answers these questions, including, in many
cases, examples drawn from his compositions as well as
polemical asides which attempt to vindicate him of criti-
cism he was receiving at that time in his life. Much
of the material appearing in this volume constitutes a
repetition of that seen in The Essence of Musicality but
in a much more concise form. The problematic title of
this work (From Melos to the Kettledrum) results from the
fact that he begins the work by discussing aspects of melos
andmelody and concludes by stating that, of the percussion
iIlstruments, he has gone so far as to employ timpani in

c0l'nposing for orchestra.

k

 

O.“

i

O.

1'14

20

The second volume of the Theoretical Writings, Twelve-

Tone Technique: The Theory of the Tropes, which attempts

 

to demonstrate the architecture of twelve-tone music, is
addressed to the composer, as Hauer tells us in the
"Preface." To demonstrate his point about the architectur-
al requirements of twelve-tone music, he makes reference
to the manner in which bridges constructed of different
materials need different methods of construction; this he
compares to the requirements of twelve-tone music and the
"old" diatonic music. Different types of texture and
voice leading are also discussed.

In the Preface to the present work, an allusion was
made to the fact that Hauer often expressed himself in a
less than clear manner, and that readers of the original
text find it difficult to ascertain exactly what he meant
in certain sections of his writing. The job was no less
difficult in making this translation. In many instances,
he wrote in a stream—of—consciousness style which is
filled with parenthetical asides, polemical statements,
rhetorical questions and self—importuning remarks. The
majority of these are supported by innumerable modifying
clauses which were intended to leave nothing to the
reader's imagination but which, in fact, have the
effect of clouding the issues for even skilled readers of
German. Hauer also indulged in many Viennese dialectical
expressions. Concerning the lack of precise writing,

particularly as it applies to The Essence of Musicality:

 

 

21

Foundation of Twelve-Tone Music, Alois Melichar says:

 

(In this regard, I would like to point out
that, in fact, several sections of Hauer's
writing particularly in his Theory of
Twelve-Tone Music [sic], are rendered in a
precise, scholarly fashion which stand out
in stark relief to Hauer's prevailing manner
of conversation or as he, himself, calls it,
his clumsy schoolmaster German. The read-
able parts seen here probably stem from the
collaboration with the Viennese philosopher,
Ferdinand Ebner, which was requested by
Hauer.)

In assessing his ability as a musician-creator and
his ability as a writer, it is obvious that Hauer pos-
sessed greater aptitude for the role of the musician-
creator. Of the seven liberal arts, Hauer had a consuming
passion for and a considerable knowledge of the quadrivium
(astronomy, geometry, mathematics and music). For the
trivium (grammar, logic and rhetoric), however, he showed
little ability and eVen less concern. This, perhaps, is
as fair an assessment of his abilities as is possible. It
recognizes his position as a thinker while showing that he
oftentimes lacked the ability to form his thoughts into
readily understandable sentences and paragraphs.

In translating these three important works, the attempt
has been made to provide as accurate a translation of the

original German editions as possible. That is to say, the

attempt was made to provide the reader of the English

 

21. Melichar, 255-256.

 

 

22

version with as fluid a translation as possible without
destroying the abiding character of the treatises, i.e.,
the Germanic—Viennese quality of the language. Where
feasible, I have tried to retain the format of the in-
dividual Chapters, sub-sections and paragraphs, etc.
found in the original editions, so that the translations
could be easily compared with the originals.

In the case of the translation of the sections of
Goethe's Theory of Colors, I have, in several instances,
used the translation done by Eastlake. These are all so
noted. Where no such note appears with the translation,
it is to be assumed that I have provided my own translation.

In order to separate my footnotes from those of Hauer,
I have emplOyed numbers for mine and left Hauer's as they
appeared in the German editions: i.e., they are indicated
through the use of an asterisk (*) in both text and ex-
planatory section.

Almost all the examples included in the translation
are photographic reproductions of the examples appearing
in the original edition. These were used in order to pre-
serve the character of the original, particularly since the
majority of the examples (i.e., those appearing in the
first and second volumes of the Theoretical Writings)

appear in Hauer's own hand.

 

L. .3

Chapter II

J O S E F M A T T I A S H A U E R

THE ESSENCE OF MUSICALITY:

FOUNDATIONS OF TWELVE-TONE MUSIC

Robert Lienau Berlin-Lichterfelde

 

 

 

24

FOREWORD

In our conception of music, we are guided by two
phenomena: by melody, as it is found intellectually in a
musical person and by isolated sound as it is physically
produced in an instrument. An interrelationship of im—
mense power and conformity with natural laws exists be-
tween isolated sound and melody in a person. This recipro-
cal effect is manifested in two ways. For example, if a
person wants to express a musical event as such (in order
to communicate it to someone), he chooses certain pitch
patterns for this purpose. Conversely, if another person
perceives these pitch patterns, the same or a similar

musical event is awakened in him.

 

Pitch Interval

Noise Musical sound
Rhythm Melos

Absolute pitch Relative pitch‘
Pure tuning Well-tempered
Tonal Atonal

Overtone spectrum Timbre—totality
Violin, Horn, . . . Piano, organ, . . .
Yodeling, bellowing, . . . Singing, speaking, . . .
Rules, conventions Statutes, Nomos

An object in motion An object at rest

 

 

25

P ITCH and SOUND

What we in the musical world call a pitch is in
reality a complex chord: a sonority. We know from physics
that any pitch of any musical instrument contains a series
of overtones. Helmholtz has called our attention to these
aliquot tones which stand in fixed intervallic relationship
to their fundamental. (See Drawing B in the Appendix.)
We can, for example, very easily differentiate a few of the
stronger, more prominent overtones with the unaided ear.

Pitch (rudimentary, simple-~an abstraction) is per-
ceived through abstract (unmusical) listening and through
analysis of the listening experience while musical sound
(complex--a multiplicity of sound elements experienced as
a unit) is perceived through concrete (musical) hearing.
Musical sound is the synthesis of diversity in the auditory
senses. (The senses are the intellect.) Pitch is, there-
fore, (abstractly heard) an element; concretely heard and
experienced, a musical sound (a chord) is, in short, pitch
with the simultaneous sounding of its overtones. Melody
could be defined as the deployment of the sensory proper-
ties of a musical sound: the deployment of a chord in
time.

That we hear a sound not for itself but as a pitch or
a sonority (therefore evaluating it musically and estheti-
cally) is based not on its physical characteristic
(frequency) but on the aspect of "intellectuality" which

is basic to the organic process of hearing.

 

r”——————

26

THE OVERTONE SERIES AND NOISE

 

The timbre of a tone (instrumental) depends upon the
state of its overtone series (prominence of one or another
overtone--the number and height of the overtones). Every
tone has a timbre in so far as it implies a chord (an
aggregate of sound elements--the fundamental with its
overtones--an intellectual, physical synthesis of a
diversity). That it implies (foreshadows) a chord, lends
it its color. Timbre is also the premonition of a melody
(that is, melody is equivalent to the deployment of the
diversity of sound in time).

In all instruments, noise as well plays a large part
(for example: bowing, blowing and plucking, among others);
it even predominates in some (the drums, for example).

In the narrowest sense, timbre (for example that of the
trumpet, the violin, etc.), is, therefore, caused by the
fixed condition of the overtone series and by noise.

Every pitch, as it is produced in a purely physical
manner on any instrument, has two characteristic features:
one is the purely sensory (noise) and the other is that
which demands musical evaluation (namely, the overtone
spectrum). Noise would correspond to the "sense of touch"
if we imagined the ear (in the same way as the eye) to be
an organically modified organ of touch. Coarse, rasping,
whistling, piercing, hollow, nasal, bawling, cackling,

howling and an entire series of other words are

 

27

designations for noise. For a totally unmusical person,
there would be only noise, for he would also have to ex-
perience the overtone spectrum as such. Unmusical natures
have a preference for noise. The overtone spectrum (that
is to say, the musical element of timbre) is ignored so
much by most people that they simply label noise as
"timbre." They look for the nature of timbre in the
instrument in its physical state. It is exactly that
state (wherein one has to regard timbre in a musical sense,
i.e., to listen in a natural manner and thus to listen to
that which musically constitutes the nature of the instru-
ment) which, in itself, is contingent upon the timbre in
its intellectual origin. That is to say, it is contingent
upon that timbre which is produced by the freely created
musical fantasy (which is in no way dependent upon the
sound experience) that originates in the instrument.

Only Esis timbre, in the intellectuality of its origin,
made man into the creator of the sounding body. We could
say that in its inner state it caused man (who had the
desire) to allow the intuitively experienced timbre to
become physically audible and to seek that sounding body
which would make the musical experience of the sphere of
intuition possible also in the sphere of sensory perception.
A complete realization of the musical presentiment of
timbre within the domain of the sensory experience is,

perhaps, impossible from outside. That is to say, the

timbre of the instrument will always obscure that timbre
which is presented in the intuition.

That primal-musical experience which the first builder
of musical instruments must have had was completely for-
gotten. The great violin makers, for example, met with a
form for the violin from which, through their genius, they
created that violin which corresponds to the higher devel-
oped aesthetic requirements. This was accomplished by
suppressing noise and by bringing to the fore the overtone
balance which is characteristic for this instrument in its
greatest purity. That violin which yields the instrumental
prerequisite for Mozart's violin melodies (indeed, Mozart
has, perhaps, composed essentially violin melodies) can no
longer be imitated in spite of the most exact measurement
of quality. This is a result of the fact that in the
creation of their instruments, none of the more recent
violin builders have been inspired by its intuitively per-
ceived timbre. It is to be assumed that the situation with
other musical instruments intended for artistic purposes
may have been similar to that of the violin. Concerning
noise (which is probably never entirely avoidable in the
playing of any instrument), one could compare it with

canvas upon which a color becomes visible.

THE MUSICAL ELEMENT IN MAN: MELODY

 

The musical ear has an intellectual (aesthetic) need

for "pure tone" (which is not the same as pure pitchl).

29

The possibility of realizing (making physically audible)
"ideal" listening (the hearing of pure tones within musical
creators, which is related to an "intellectual" hearing
need) is fundamental to the creation of the sounding body.
In this sounding body, the struggle between pure tone and
the "resistance of material" (noise) takes place. The
great diversity of sounds in the musical work of art is of
"phychic" origin. This is a condition stemming from
"inner life" (not from external experience).

The musical element in man is not an isolated sound
or pitch but melody (or surely, at least, the nucleus of
it--the melos) which arises from a "creative" act. It can
arise in two ways: (1) intuitively; arising completely
from the intellectuality which forms the basis for the
auditory experience, from the sound event in its object-
ivity which is subjectively anticipated--i.e., from the
truly creative and productive--and (2) derivatively;
dependent upon an objective sound experience, creating by
retrospection, as, for example, by listening to a musical
work (in principle, such is the case, no doubt, with list-
ening to an isolated pitch with its overtone structure).
Any kind of chord, physically produced, will only acquire
aesthetic meaning if it is inwardly perceived by a musical
person who transforms and translates it into melody.

That, however, is also, at the same time, the process by

which such a chord becomes timbre. The musician inserts

 

30

something subjective (the musical element), inwardly de-
ciding in favor of color. Indeed, in Goethe's Farbenlehre
it is even referred to in this manner: the beginnings of
color and one's individual preference are one and the same.
Most people, however, barely distinguish colors; that is to
say, color per se, with its spiritual-aesthetic capacity,
says absolutely nothing to them. They are not able to

grasp or interpret the melos.

THE INTERVAL: THE ESSENCE OF TIMBRE

 

If we perceive noise as a more or less disturbing
phenomenon of isolated specific timbres, we have already
broadened the notion of "timbre." The essence of timbre,
therefore, is based on the characteristic structure of a
chord. Let us set two axioms into juxtaposition:

The essence of every timbre is a particular

spectrum.

Every spectrum contains a particular timbre.
[If, for example, on the piano we were to strike firmly
the contra C and the one—line D, G-sharp, and A simulta-
neously but less firmly, we would then have the impression
of a bell-tone (the City Hall clock of Vienna, for in-
stance). The ninth and thirteenth partials emerge strongly
from the series:

EICIGICIeIgrbraralalfIEIEIB—IB—IE
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

 

 

31

(Since the thirteenth partial lies between the tempered G-
sharp and tempered A, we strike both pitches on the piano.
See Exhibit B.) If we disregard the particular sound of
the piano, the essential element of the above-named timbre
lies in the tri-chord sonority: C-D—(G-sharp)A.]

We can go another step further, however:

[In the experiment with the bell stated above, the (G-
sharp) A is the highest of the more prominent overtones.
From musical experience, we know about the decisive impact
which belongs to both extreme pitches of a chord, particu-
larly if its intervals always remain constant as is the
case in the overtone series. Therefore, the simulation of
the bell-tones on the piano will be successful if we strike
only two pitches: the contra C and the one-line A.]

In every overtone series, one partial stands out the
strongest. At the same time, this partial forms the upper
limits. Its intervallic relationship with the fundamental
determines the musical character of the timbre. The
quintessence of any timbre is ordained, therefore, by two
pitches (the diad-—the simplest chord) and their interval-
lic relationship.

The most essential element of any timbre can be heard
in the interval which is formed by the fundamental and the
highest of the more prominent overtones of a series. Each
interval conceals the nucleus of a timbre. The interval

lends to music the effect of color. Interval = color.

 

32

Hence, that which leads us to "music" through various
sounding bodies (instruments) and that to which we con-
versely lend a musical "meaning" through musical, creative
listening is the overtone spectrum with its variations
which can, in a certain sense, be designated as noise.
However, through its intervallic relationships and through
the "musical" in the listener (i.e., the timbre -, melody-
creative element whose intellectual meaning is grasped by
him in the interval), that overtone spectrum is detached
(even to the timbre which is the pure color) from the body,
from the substance, from the material: from noise.

Many may now say that the overtone series is always
the same (l:2:3:4:5 etc.); how can it imply different
colors? True! The overtone series, for instance, does
resemble the major triad in its various positions. This
results from the accentuation of different overtones in
different timbres. As an example, we speak of the fifth
of a given chord, thereby thinking about the outer
pitches. These play a great role in the individual
overtone spectrum. The fifth, however, designates an
interval and this leads us directly to the musical, to
melody and to color. This results from the fact that we
inwardly "determine" that the physical fact of the
distance existing between two pitches (vibration ratio),
hence, the interval, obtains a musical "meaning." The

essence of tone color lies precisely in the interval.

 

-,-v

One's individual preference for color, through which color
itself is given specific aesthetic meaning for the first
time, is actually nothing other than the "doctrine of
aesthetics" (which cannot be more closely delineated)
applied to the listening process.

If that is really the case, then the specific timbre
of an instrument (untroubled by “noises", naturally, and,
therefore, appearing in its intellectual purity) must also
be audible on the piano. For technical reasons, the ham-
mers of the piano must strike different places on the
strings (in the seventh to the thirteenth segments). In
this manner, various overtones stand out more strongly,
and produce all the imaginable timbres particular to the
instrument. At first glance, this phenomenon is a short—
coming and causes difficulties even for the tuner in his
work (particularly at the register changes). Since the
individual timbres of the strings crop up again in the
correct positions, however, this absolute "temperament"
can also be employed in an aesthetically useful manner
(for example, by striking the string in the ninth segment,
the eighth overtone stands out more strongly and, thereby,
produces the violin tone in the register between the one-
line and two-line A). Pay attention to the vibrations of

the string which are indicated in the drawing.

 

34'

    

 

302 3 4 5 61.38.9'

The straight line XE is the string at a state of rest
which is struck by the hammer at C (AC = 1/9 AD). What
results is the primary vibration which yields the funda-
mental and the secondary wave-form vibrations which in turn
yield the major second, thus allowing the eighth overtone
to come to prominence. Similar to the harmonics on string
instruments, the secondary wave-form vibrations emerge
through the "node formations" which, in this case, are
brought about by the impact of the hammer. Naturally, only
the "musical ear" will actually hear the "violin tone"
which arises from the piano tone. Such an ear could be
described as one which, in itself, has creatively and
intuitively comprehended timbre in its intellectuality, and
which, therefore, even in listening to the sound of the
violin (produced on the violin and not on the piano), hears
this in its musically "noise-free" reality. It does not
listen, therefore, to the instrument in its objective phys-
ical state (in which the disturbing element of noise is
always present) but puts it and its color aside in the
creative manner already alluded to. There are only two
kinds of "ears": ears which precede "reality" (the

"event") and those which tag along after it.

35

If I were to sing the interval of the major second,
I would sing the most idiomatic melody of the violin: the
germinal melody which forms the basis of a host of works.
In addition to that, it is necessary that we become
"pathologically affected", as Goethe said, when viewing
an isolated color. Therefore, in our case, we must imagine
the interval, its character, its inherent rhythm: its
melos. We must imagine it in its fluid, soaring state.

For example:

a“ '1 -~ « .-

 

 

 

 

If we now imagine the overtone series of an open string on
the violin, we have a conception of the melody of the

"Queen of Instruments":

 

Every note of the violin is subject to these vibration
ratios. Therefore, G-, D-, A— and E-major and minor, cor—
responding to the open strings, are the true violin keys,
for they approximate the natural ratios of the instrument
(bearing in mind the violin melody per se). They do not
disturb the vibrations with intervals which are foreign to

the violin. They advance the "music" of the violin but not

36

the possibilities of noise which many people designate as
"unusual timbres" arising therefrom.

The discourse on the "violin melody" is at this point:
it is just as if only one melody exists in this instrument
and, perhaps, that is in fact so. However, the great
composers (Mozart, for example) who have composed the true
melodies for the violin (N.B. the D major passage in the

renowned C minor Fantasy for Piano by Mozart) have done

 

nothing other than extract and realize the creative "pos-
sibilities of development" plainly existing in the violin
melody. These possibilities, however, are undoubtly
limited and, in the course of the history of music, the
time had to come when they all were, so to speak, extracted
and thoroughly exhausted. At this point begins the "rape"
of the violin; melodies which are foreign to its timbre
character are forced on the violin. It is just as if a
sculptor executed in wood an idea which was originally
conceived in marble.

The "spirit" of an instrument lies in one interval
or another. For example, if we strike a "pure" fifth on
the piano in the middle range, we are reminded of trumpets.
Indeed, the mere notion of the fifth is sufficient. Thus,
it shows the character of this interval (naturally, that
of the melody with its "inborn" rhythm as well) to be
somehow coalesced with the character of the trumpet. For

example:

 

37

 

(Perhaps in the trumpet, the second overtone, the fifth,
stands out more strongly.) From the trumpet we hear its
melodies and, vice versa, we give a melody having certain
qualities to the trumpet. In any case, however, the
trumpet melody came about before the trumpet. Perhaps

a "soldier" searched long enough until he found that tube
from whiCh trumpet sounds could be produced: fanfares.

To which interval the character of an instrument is
bound is actually immaterial. We must not think of a
melody (i.e., of this or that interval) as belonging to
this or that instrument (to the object--to "noise") but
rather about the interval per se, as making a purely
musical (i.e., a "color") impression upon us. Just in the
mere notation of it, the interval, with its decisive musi-
cal character, is a specific timbre.

Goethe in his Farbenlehre:

 

Since color occupies so important a place in
the series of elementary phenomena, filling
as it does the limited circle assigned to it
with the fullest variety, we shall not be
surprised to find that its effects are at

all times decided and significant, and that
they are immediately associated with the
emotions of the mind. We shall not be sur-
prised to find that these appearances pre-
sented singly, are specific, that in combina-
tion they produce an harmonious, characteris-
tic, often even an inharmonious effect on the

38

eye, by means of which they act on the mind;
producing this impression in their most gen-
eral elementary character, without relation
to the nature or form of the object on
whose surface they are apparent. Hence,
color considered as an element of art,nmy
be made subservient to the highest aestheti-
cal ends.

THE MUSICAL IMAGINATION

 

We have already entered the domain of the musical
psyche, of the power of imagination: of fantasy. That
notwithstanding, reality remains crowded within the narrow
confines of its borders. (Reality is the sounding body,
the instrument: the intractable material.) We have to go
I on to the "conception" of timbre, however, in order to gain
an aesthetic footing. Starting with the interval, we can
survey the entirety of the world of musical color; we can
assign isolated phenomena their proper place within the
circle and separate the non-essential from the essential
and the simple from the compound. Without the well-honed
sense for intervals and rhythms which dwells in our psyche,
all music would come apart and fall into oblivion (into a
din). Music is the conversion of the innermost flow of
life into intervallic and rhythmic gestures.

Ideally, the musical imagination has to do with "pure

sounds" (with sounds and their colors, undaunted by the

 

1. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Theory of Colours, trans.
Charles Lock Eastlake (London: John Murray, 1840), new
ed. with introduction by Deane B. Judd (Cambridge,
Mass.: The M.I.T. Press, 1973), 304.

 

39

"resistance of the material") whose realization is sought
in the sounding body. (Always only an approximate real-
ization!)

Is musical imagination fertilized by the timbres of
the sounding bodies? No. It creates these timbres by
itself. Out of the need to make them audible in a physical
sense (in the realization of the "ideal" sound), it
searches for the sounding body. The sounding body itself
was created only through the aid of this musical imagina-
tion. Nature did not place it at the disposal of man; it
met him only part way at the very most.

The "timbre-creative" musical imagination is necessary
not only to create musically but also to listen musically.
The reason for this is that the "realization" of “ideal"
sounds by sounding bodies is never perfect. The person
possessing musical imagination (timbre-creative imagina-
tion) is the only one to be called musical. The aesthetic
satisfaction in listening rests on the fact that the person
hears whatever his musical imagination demands him to hear
(valid, naturally, in all matters of aesthetics).

Goethe has this to say about the eye:

The colors which we see on objects are not
qualities entirely strange to the eye: the
organ is not thus merely habituated to the
impression; no, it is always predisposed to
produce color of itself, and experiences

a sensation of delight if something analagous
to its own nature is offered to it from

without; if its susceptibility is distinctly
determined towards a given state.2

 

2. Goethe, 305.

40

There are also composers whose musical imagination
(because it is secretly non-creative) is Stimulated and
fertilized by the timbre of the sounding bodies. These
are "mechanical", "musical engineers": "unmusical"
people. They create a type of music which drives forward
to the noise of the material (instead of wanting to over-
come that noise). This is nothing but materialism in
music and such materialistic music can "enthuse" musically
unfamiliar people (Wagnerians). The joy of chaos--the joy
of noise--even Beethoven was quite noisy at times (note
the Fifth Symphony and the Finale of the Ninthlll).

The "rebirth" of music is the return to original
musical experience in its intellectuality. Look for this
intellectuality, however, not in the realm of falsehood
but in the domain of the idea.

The theory of musical color gives the real meaning
which, quite plainly, is the primal-musical meaning of the

intervals and, thereby, the sense and meaning of melody.

INTERVAL AND RHYTHM: GESTURE

 

In the interval lies not only the nucleus of timbre
(the melos) but also that of rhythm.

As soon as we sing an interval (i.e., sing its melody)
we make a "musical" gesture. This expresses itself in a
certain rhythm and conveys to us the "meaning" of color:
of the interval. On the other hand, melody (as it arises

creatively in us), with its rhythm (expression), is

41

unfolded in the interval and, consequently, in the timbre
of the sounding body. The interval is a "melody:" a
"music." At the same time, however, it is something also
capable of physical measurement. Everything purely musical
is contained in the interva1--everything. The essence of
the interval rests squarely on the fact that an unknown
something (conspicious to the eye in score form but, by a
long shot, no "more familiar" and no "more easier to
grasp") moves from one note to another as from C to D, for
example, or from F to C. It dOes not mean, however, that
two isolated pitches sound in succesSion or simultaneously
as a sound event which is capable of standing by itself
without that inner relationship which is impossible to
define further. Briefly stated: the essence of the in-
terval is motion. The interval is a gesture.

Each gesture means something; through the fact that a
motion means something, it becomes gesture. The meaning of
a motion rests upon the intellect. The interval is intel-
lectual movement (movement of the intellect); therefore, it
means something by itself.

In the interval is the pitch (the sound)--not some-
‘thing subject to motion but motion itself. For natural
scientists, movement in a sound equals motion of the mass
(the theory of frequencies).

At this juncture the symbolic and allegorical usage of
colors may also be pointed out. The fire alarm, for exam-

ple, is an allegorical application of the fourth which is

42

similar to the way colors are used as signs or signals,
etc. The excitement of the fire alarm does not stem from
the fourth but from the fact that we are reminded by its
sounding that there is (perhaps in our immediate vicinity)
a fire or that some other catastrophe has taken place. It
also stems from the fact that it is produced by a trumpet,
a blatant fifth-colored instrument. However, in its musi-
cal nature, the fourth is a cadential interval which im-
plies rest and has, since time immemorial, been so employed

(symbolically) in real music. The Wagnerian leitmotiv is

 

an allegorical combination of notes and chords similar to
the color of flags.

The interval has a musical "meaning." In the "meaning"
lies something infinite; if it becomes finite, it is trans-
formed into a purpose. The fire-alarm fourth has a purpose,
but when it became connected with the fire alarm, the musi—
cal meaning of the interval was lost.

Goethe discusses the application of colors in this
manner:

It has been circumstantially shown above,
that every color produces a distinct im-
pression on the mind, and thus addresses at
once the eye and feelings. Hence it follows
that color may be employed for certain moral
and aesthetic ends. Such an application,
coinciding entirely with nature, might be
called symbolical, since the color would be
employed in conformity with its effect, and
would at once express its meaning. Another
application is nearly allied to this; it
might be called the allegorical application.

That, lastly, color may have a mystical a1-
lusion, may be surmised, for since every

43

diagram in which the variety of colors may
be represented points to those primordial
relations which belong both to nature and
the organ of vision, there can be no doubt
that these may be made use of as a language,
in cases where it is proposed to express
similar primordial relations which do not
present themselves to the senses in so
powerful and varied a manner.

The doctrine of musical color (timbre theory), con-

sequently, results completely from the theory of intervals.

DESCRIPTION OF THE INTERVALS

 

Of the pure intervals, we know the octave with its
vibration ratio of 1:2, the fifth at 2:3 and the fourth at
3:4. With these pure intervals, an entire system of
nothing but pure intervals ("mathematical" temperament) may
be constructed. If we take C, corresponding to our nota-
tion (C major without key signature), as a point of depar-
ture, and assign 1 (one) to its rate of vibration, and,
if we compute the series successively, we obtain the rela-

tive pitches of the circle of fifths:

 

 

3. Goethe, 350.

44

In like manner, we compute the circle of fourths:

 

These resulting vibration ratios extend over seven
octaves, if figured by fifths, and five octaves, if figured
by fourths. In order to get all the intervals in the space
of an octave, let's accordingly divide by 2, 4, 8, l6 . . .
(fundamental to octave is 1:2).

The relative pitches as they appear in chromatic succession:

 

45

Converted to six-place decimals, they appear in this

manner:

c 1 1 c 1

0* 1.067871 1.059463 DV 1.053497
D 1.125 1.122462 EVV 1.109§§1
6“ 1.201354 1.189207 EV 1.185185
E 1.265625 1.259921 Ev 1.248599
E47 1.351524 1.334838 F 1.333333
Hi 1.423828 1.414213 Gr 1.404663
G 1.5 1.498306 AV' 1.479821
95’ 1.601806 1.587399 Av 1.580246
A 1.6875 1.681792 8" 1.66427g
N8 1.802032 1.781795 B' 1.777777
B 1.898437 1.887744 ct 1.872885
sf 2.027286 2 DP? 1.973080

In Example B, we have taken a line which has the de-
signation one (1) and represented these relationships of
size by means of a system of coordinates.

We see a curve having various bulges. If we think of
the dotted line as an ideal mean (as an evenly bent curve
leading from C to c), we see from this inexact construction
that the further the corners of a bulge are removed from
the dotted line, the further their intervallic relation-
ships are removed from C.

We can also find the dotted line through calculation.
Thus:

[We call the point which is to be determined some-

where between F-sharp and G-flat simply "F-sharp"]; there-

fore:

46

CzF-sharp = F-sharp:C (octave) x?==2

lzx = x:2 x ='V§'= 1.414213
The dotted line moves in geometric progression (see the
boxed numbers above).

The points of the circle of fifths are equidistantly
removed from the dotted line when moving upward in this
sequence: G, D, A, E, B, F-sharp, C-sharp, G-sharp, D-
sharp, A-sharp, E-sharp, B-sharp. The same happens to
those of the circle of fourths when moving downward, as in
this sequence: F, B-flat, E-flat, A-flat, D-flat, G-flat,
C-flat, F-flat, B—double-flat, C-double-flat, A-double-
flat, D-double-flat.

In order to_make the relationships of size even more
explicit, we draw the dotted line as a straight line and as
a circle, and superimpose on them the distances of the
fourth and fifth points from them. Instead of an increase
in the distance as we ascend, let's assume equal distances.
(Look at Drawings A and C.)

The agreement of the number of accidentals of the keys
(G major, one sharp; D major, two sharps; F major, one
flat. . . ) and the number of divisions should be noted
next. The dotted line represents the mean of the tempera-
ment.

In order to become better acquainted with the overtone
series (the natural pitches), let's again take our point

of departure as C and fix its rate of vibration at l.

47

(Compare the following with Drawing B.)

1:2 = C:C (perfect octave)

2:3 = C:G (perfect fifth)

3:4 = G:C (perfect fourth)

4:5 = C:x; x = 5/4 = 1.25 (comes close to the pure F-sharp)
4:6 = 2:3 = C:G (perfect fifth)

4:7 = C:x; x = 7/4 = 1.75 (still lower than the pure B-flat)
4:8 = 1:2 v C:C (perfect octave)

8:9

C:D = ("pure" major second)

8:10 = 4:5 (see above)

8:11 = C:x; x = 11/8 = 1.375 (higher than the pure E-sharp)
8:12 = 2:3 = C:G (pure fifths)

8:13 = C:x; x = 13/8 = 1.625 (lower than the pure B)

8:14 % 4:7 (see above)

8:15 = C:x; x = 15/8 = 1.875 (comes close to the pure C-
sharp)

8:16 = 1:2 = C:C (pure octave) etc.

MAJOR AND MINOR

 

The overtone series is the natural color spectrum from
which the diatonic major scale emerged.

The "natural" melody is the scale. Every pitch con-
tains within itself a scale in its overtone series. Every
pitch also has a scale on account of its relationship to C
(relationship of the overtones to their fundamental)--as
with the Greek modes. The "sounding" of a pitch forces a
scale: the melody. Melody is the synthesis of a multipli-

city. The "timeless" inner life wants to display itself

48

in time. This, however, requires space: namely, the
sounding body present in the space.

Major triads and scales are natural phenomena. Their
exclusive use constitutes the natural state of music
(imitating nature). Minor is, contrary to major, already
a phase of spiritualization. The highest step of spiritu-
alization in music, however, is reached when the entire
interval- (timbre-) circle is employed in an equal manner.

Mathematically pure tuning (which is based on the
"pure" intervals of the harmonic series) gives us an ex-
cellent picture of the diatonic major and minor system and
the old diatonic notation. In practical music making,
however, the natural, pure and tempered were used, until

now, in an alternating fashion and even simultaneously.

TEMPERAMENT: THE TOTALITY OF TIMBRE

 

The infinite number of intervals in an octave (the
others are only repetitions) form the intervallic-
(color-) totality in music.

Every equal temperament divides the circle of intervals
(colors) within the octave into equal parts. By this means,
a representative of each color ("interval complex") is
tselected. (Look well at the illustrations.) We are
reminded of a color spectrum in which all colors are
contained in equal proportion in an endless variety of
degrees. As soon as this circle is divided into equal parts,

a representative of each color must be present.

49

Every equal temperament is, therefore, a totality of
timbre.

For the realization of all "pure" timbres, we would
need an instrument having limitless pitches. However, they
would have to be absolutely devoid of overtones and noise
and be so constructed that one pitch would be differenti-
ated from another only by the pitch level (i.e., similar
to the piano or harmonium only infinitely more perfect).
These tones would also have to have the capacity of being
able to be played as loud and as long as desired. Let's
envision this absolutely perfect, ideal instrument with
which we can totally realize any intuitively experienced
music. Since pitches devoid of overtones and noise cannot
be produced, we immediately have problems. What's left?
One must be content to produce pitches with the same noise
and with the identical overtone series. Yet not even that
is possible! With the piano, for instance, think about
the transition from the register which is double strung to
that which has single strings bound with wire. Just ask
any piano builder what kind of difficulties that creates.
Furthermore, if we have an infinite number of pitches, who
will tune them? How many hands would it take to play them
and how would they be notated? What can be done? Let's
use the term "infinite" as the mathematicians do (just as
they calculate the area of a circle from the infinite

number of isosceles triangles whose sides equal the radius

50

and whose base equals the circumference; in this manner,
we have to imagine a circle from whose middle point so
many radii emanate that one lies immediately adjacent to
another). Therefore, infinite numbers of intervals are all
intervals and, consequently, all colors. Using all the
intervals, one can construct any timbre, even that of any
orchestral instrument one chooses, naturally. We must
not forget that noise is also important for exact sound
reproduction (that of the tuba, for example). However,
it was our intention to overcome noise (or shall we also
set up a "noise-totality" in the form of a "noise-
temperament" for certain composers?) in order to arrive at
real "music." In as faithful a manner as is possible, we
want to arrive at a reproduction of "pure timbres" as
they emerge from the musical intuition and from melody,
and as they are envisioned in the mind of the creator and
also, naturally, the "musical" listener. We should bear
in mind how disturbing it is that every note produced has
a series of overtones (which is unavoidable) and also a
particular noise! Hence, we take like ratios, in order to
push the particular noises and overtones (physical "timbres")
into the background and move the interval (musical color),
which is the difference in the (relative) pitches, into the
foreground.

Let us further contemplate the term "infinite" in the

mathematical sense: in an infinite number of equal parts.

51

(We count the radii in the circle mentioned above.)
Therefore: a temperament, having 1200 pitches. One
thousand, two hundred equal steps in the octave! For

these nuances, we hardly have the powers of discrimination.
[Following the experiments of Ellis and Stumpf, we know
that a "cent" (i.e. the hundreth part of a tempered semi-
tone) can be discriminated by the human ear only through
the aid of beats.] Now a lesser number: one hundred.

That would yield seven hundred pitches in seven octaves.
Who could play in such a manner or, for that matter, write?
Still fewer: thirty-six sixth-tones or twenty-four quarter-
tones. Busoni and other disdainers of temperament will now
surely bestir themselves. Occidental music has been satis-
fied with twelve semi-tones up until now (the question is
whether this is the result of mere self-contentment), and
it certainly requires a great musical capacity* to compre-

hend this as a formal unit. These twelve semi-tones must

 

* With every piano builder and piano tuner, this capacity
is actually the prerequisite of his art-serving craft.
How could one even imagine a genuine, legitimate builder
without immediate reference to "musical intuition:"

i.e., basically to the totality of the timbre circle.

Why we have selected this particular sequence of twelve
semi-tones can never possibly be determined with cer-
tainty, as it is not conditioned by physiological rea-
sons alone. Perhaps it stands in a relationship to the
twelve-stepped color spectrum which is difficult for

us to grasp. Sound and light are not only related as
words (etymologically). There exists a remarkable agree-
ment (which certainly cannot be taken as being arbitrary)
between the circles of refraction and timbre. To mention
just one aspect: if one orders the twelve steps of the

52

comprise a formal unit within themselves because, without
them the creation of a melody and, indeed, the mere singing
of a specific interval would not at all be possible.

The continuation of our path would then be the reverse
of the ones followed thus far: namely, from the twelve
equal steps to the circle (to mathematical infinity) and
from there to spiritual infinity (to "inner movement" in
the "totality") and from this to movement of the intellect
in the interval (in the color), to imagination, to in-
tuition: to "music." "Totality" (infinity but also self-
sufficiency of the intellect) thus needs something new
analagous to physics in order to be able to reveal itself.
Here, this analogy is the circle: equal temperament. The
overtone intervals and pure tuning divide the "circle"

(if this term can still be used here) within the octave

into unequal parts thereby destroying the unity of the
circle of intervals, the symmetrical distribution of colors:
the "totality." By this means, the musical imagination is

"localized" and shackled.

 

scale of refraction under the supposition that each
single one complies with a particular timbre (interval)
in the succession of the chromatic scale (C, D-flat, D,
E-flat, etc.), it yields an extraordinarily beautiful
color harmony.

The pitch systems of all peoples of the earth vacillate
between the harmonic series and the tempered systems
which are often differentiated as far as quarter tones.
(Note the exhaustive studies of Stumpf, Ellis, Land,
Baglioni, Engel, Fleischer, et a1.) Through a thorough-
going inspection of Example B, one will see one's way

in the pitch universe more easily. It should be

53

A parallel to the distribution of light rays in the
sun's spectrum could also be made. Within it, 110 of the
170 possible degrees are assigned to the cool colors green
blue, violet and only 60 degrees to the red and yellow.
Likewise, in the third octave of the overtone series,
which has the still distinctly audible overtones of keynote,
major third, fifth, minor seventh (4:5:6:7), the "falling
principle" is expressed through the minor seventh. Perhaps
the light spectrum visible to us is equivalent to this
overtone octave, particularly if we imagine the deployment
of separate octaves (spectra) and "intervals" (wave forms
with their particular colors) from the "fundamental" (light
source) according to the overtone series. The prominence
of individual overtones in various timbres of instruments

would then conform to the spectra of potassium and sodium,

 

noticed, for example, that the eleventh and thirteenth
harmonics are decidedly quarter tones, the thirteenth,
thus, creating a "neutral sixth" with the fundamental.
The "evolutionary optimists" believe by this that our
twelve-tone system has realized no limits and it there-
fore could, through education and acclimatization of
the ear, one day come to a temperament having so many
intervals that all systems of the world could be accom-
modated within it. Well, about this each may have his
own ideas and may judge by his own capacities how far
it is possible to join simultaneously an inner psychic,
spiritual, "musical" gesture with a particular interval
(quarter-tone, sixth-tone, etc.). In other words:
whether the finer nuance of the intervals in tempera-
ments having more than twelve tones kindles (in a
purely musical fashion) something more in him. My ex-
planations will not touch upon this further.

54

and so forth. Thus, while the natural phenomenon one-
sidedly stresses the "falling" principle, "tempering" of
intervals and colors establishes a balance. (Look at the
unequal distribution of overtone intervals in the octave
»as shown in Drawing B.)

Goethe in his Farbenlehre says:

 

We stated before that the eye could be in
some degree pathologically affected by being
long confined to a single color; that, again,
definite moral impressions were thus pro-
duced, at one time lively and aspiring, at
another susceptible and anxious--now exalted
to grand associations, now reduced to ordin-
ary ones. We now observe that the demand

for completeness, which is inherent in the
organ, frees us from this restraint; the eye
relieves itself by producing the opposite of
the single color forced upon it, and thus at-
tains the entire impression which is so satis-
factory to it.

Simple, therefore, as these strictly harmoni-
ous contrasts are, as presented to us in the
narrow circle, the hint is important that
nature tends to emancipate the sense from
confined impressions by suggesting and pro-
ducing the whole, and, that in this instance,
we have a natural phenomenon immediately ap-
plicable to aesthetic purposes.

While, therefore, we may assert that the
chromatic scale, as given by us, produces

an agreeable impression by its ingredient
hues, we may here remark that those have been
mistaken who have hitherto adduced the rain-
bow as an example of the entire scale; for
the chief color, pure red is deficient in it,
and cannot be produced, since in this phe-
nomenon, as well as in the ordinary prismatic
series, the yellow-red and blue-red cannot
attain a union.

55

Nature, perhaps, exhibits no general phe-

nomenon where the scale is in complete com-

bination. By artificial experiments such

an appearance may be produced in its perfect

splendor. The mode, however, in which the

entire series is connected in a circle, is

rendered most intelligible by tints on

paper, till after much experience and practice,

aided by due susceptibility of the organ, we

become penetrated with the idea of this har-

mony, and feel it present in our minds.4

Our ideal instrument, therefore, shrinks up to a piti-

ful box having notes which are produced through the same
noise, which have, as far as possible, the same overtone
series and which are equi-distant from one another in
pitch (tempered--an attempt at infinity!). The last condi-
tion, however, wherein the pitches can be played as loudly
and held as long as the player desires is fulfilled
neither by the piano nor the harmonium if each is played
by itself. These two instruments, nevertheless, represent

two extremely characteristic aspects of sound production:

the attack and the setting of air into motion.

THE ORCHESTRA: DIATONIC AND ATONAL MUSIC
Melody--the intervallic color-game--is intimately
intertwined with its contours and with rhythm, and the en-
tirety shapes the form. Viewed from the purely musical
side, a chord is a melody whose pitches sound simulta-

neously, and, for this reason, we "arpeggiate" a chord in

 

4. Goethe, 319-320.

56

order to understand its "musical meaning." Accordingly,
if the overtone spectrum as such (arpeggiated) resembles
the diatonic scale with its triads, and if orchestral in-
struments with their pitches (intervals) are subjected to
the overtone series (frequencies similar to the growth
rings in wood), it can be seen that the apex of diatonic
melody coincides with the apex of orchestral music. Haydn
and Mozart! One should compare the "genuine orchestra-
tion of a Mozart score with the overtone series:

violins, flutes,
oboes, clarinet,
- Trumpet, horns,
”cellos, bassoons,
double basses

 

Hand in hand with the decline of this melody went the
decline of the orchestra (many say the "further develop-
ment"), which was only hastened by "technical progress."
(Thus, we witness in music the same process which we wit-
ness in other areas of intellectual life.) Instruments,
which were, at first, intimately bound up with melodies
(that is to say, with the "music" itself which was recum-
bent in them), were more and more robbed of their indi-
vidual character. By this means, their colors were
"counterfeited," "falsified" and "parodied." They were

utilized only from their "physicar'standpoint: i.e., for

57

their technical possibilities. This developed into
"noise" effects, sensuousness and speculation. Music
became a "utilitarian" object in the service of "poetic"
creation--the ideaf-as with Beethoven, Wagner and their
many imitators. The goal was the synthesis of all the
arts-~actually, the coupling of all technical aspects of
the arts (freely cloaked under a "metaphysical" get-up) to
sensual enjoyment. What also came about, however, was the
"rebirth" of pure music which is free from all non-musical
matter (from the desire "to shape" and "paint") and which
grows directly out of the inner "musical" life of man.
Thus, the more music was alienated from its nature
(i.e., departed from melody which was displaced by the

"1eitmotiv") the more the notes (with their "timbres"

 

attached to the material, the noise--the object) were
merely juxtaposed in a "concrete manner." In this way,
the "intervals“ and their ability to be heard (the point
at which movement takes place in the interval in its
"inner nature") stepped more and more into the background.
The perception of individual pitches stated by different
instruments as being an "organic" totality of melody be-
came more and more difficult (yes, melody itself became
questionable) and finally was lost altogether. The quest
for it, however, is the secret yet more and more evident
tendency of musical creation at the present time. It

would certainly not occur to any musician to contemplate

58

. musically bringing about a melody in which every note is
played by a different instrument.*5 The interval (its
"movement") requires that the concrete quality be removed
from it as far as possible in order (hemmed in as it is by
the "resistance of the substance") that it not stumble and
trip over noise. The characteristic phenomena of musical
life at present are not isolated symptoms but are part of
the crisis through which the entire European intellectual
life is apparently going at the moment. That can no longer
be denied; the end of "idealism" is at hand, even if the
philosophy professors and Wagnerians still don't quite want
to believe it.

From atonal melody, which, as a structural principle,
forms the basis for today's musical creation, everything
(forms, expression and means of sound) must be born anew.
In several works, atonal melody is already visible (au-
dible). The "musical" perception of it is, at the same
time, the musical comprehension of new music. Of course,

if one wants, one can even establish an evolutionary

 

* In the Fifth Symphony of Beethoven, some chords occur
in the first movement before the recapitulation which
are played alternately by strings and woodwinds. Only
a first class orchestra can interpret them in such a
manner that they can be comprehended in their musical
continuity. For the most part, the sequence of these
chords sound totally wrong when played by the orchestra
but, strange to say, nOt when played on the piano.

5. Hauer could also be referring to Schdnberg and his con-
cept of Klangfarbenmelodie which he proposed as early as
1911 in his Harmonielehre, p. 470f.

 

 

59

sequence for its "tonal connections" (i.e., its external
aspect) in the modulation "melody" of, for instance, Reger
and others. But, as was said before, only externally. It
is as difficult to define the general essence of "melody"
(which, after all, is something purely spiritual, and
which occurs in the innermost part of a person), as it is
to be able to find a particular definition of the essence
of atonal melody. The laws of diatonic melody can easily
be derived from the structure of the overtone series with
its fundamental (tonic), dominant, tonic triad, and major
scale, but they can be derived even better from the system
of pure tuning. The triads of the tonic, dominant and
subdominant (with its closest relative) from the cadential
basis of all diatonic melodies. They are always led into
these triads through the use of the leading-tone (or also
passing tones). When a modulation takes place, the new
tonic is always achieved through the displacement of the
fundamental and its related groups ("overtone series").
(Until recently, this process was handled strictly in a
"mechnical" manner and led to an accumulation of these
"deceptive progressions.") Atonal melody, however, com-
pletely ignores these old "resolutions" and "progressions"
into triads. As a simple example of an atonal melody, we
could take the whole-tone scale which, right at the outset,
does away with the tonic triad in major or minor, with the

dominant and subdominant and with the leading tone of the

60

seventh degree. However, the whole-tone scale must not be

thought of as having this "resolution”:

 

 

 

 

The laws of consonance and dissonance, as they are
expressed in the diatonic system with the "resolutions"
into triads, are no longer valid for atonel melody. Atonal
melody creates its points of tension and relaxation en-
tirely by itself, from out of itself and independent of the
phySical-physiological ("natural") relationships of the
overtone series, its triads, consonances, and dissonances.
The physical ear (not the intellectual ear, however) is,
in a certain sense, dominated by these things, for it
clings to the overtone series: i.e., to nature. That ear,

in its "objective" existence of élan vital, is in a certain

 

sense, bogged down in the physical. Atonal melody is cer-
tainly far removed from "nature" but, on the other hand, if
it is genuine, it constitutes something purely intellectual

and musical: "melody" kat exochen. Since it defies all

 

"natural" relationships and since orchestral instruments
are subject to the overtone series and its laws of vibra-
tion, it may, therefore, be played neither on flutes, oboes
and horns nor on violins. Under such conditions, the
"hearing" of the "melody"--the "music"--would be difficult

for the auditor. It may be totally impossible.

61

As was said before, "natural colors", which are
subject to the intervals of the natural overtone series,
predominate in the orchestra. All stops, harmonics, par-
tials and overblowing of the octave, etc. by the various
orchestral instruments are dependent upon the kind of
oscillations of the "nodal vibrations" of the open strings
and of the air columns within a tube. The further removed
the notes of the orchestral instruments are from the simple
vibration ratios of the overtone series as represented in
open strings and air columns, the more difficult it is for
them to speak and the more they approach the ("dissonant")
noise which comes about through the "interrupting" of the
oscillations. An impure "tempered" fifth played by a
flute, for example, will cause the entire instrument actu-
ally "to beat", tremble, and shake, whereby the tone
quality goes from a state of incipient noise to a state of
almost total disappearance. On the G-string of the violin,
for example, the C-sharp (as opposed to the open G which
vibrates "freely") is, properly speaking, a "dissonant"
noise-pitch which, "by nature", has the tendency "to re-
solve" to the D (simple vibration ratio of 1:3). (Look at

the illustration.)

62

1:!

n3
1:4
1:5
1:6
1:7
“h c» 0* Id

0). 5! ab

'0“ 9 BF G Mar-G

    

In the Clarinets and other wind instruments, the
"chromatic," "enharmonic" notes are, in the manner of the
stops on the violin, fitted in between the "nodal vibra-
tions" of the natural overtones ("unequally tempered“).
Each note of an orchestral instrument has a quality and
quantity which is either closer to or further removed from
the "free" vibrations of the strings or air columns and
over which the player has absolutely no control in tem-
pering. Even the best instruction and the greatest vir-
tuosity is of no help in this matter. Thus, in many re-
spects, it is absolutely out of the question to speak of
an "equal" tempering of the orchestral instruments. Not
only the C-sharp on the violin but also minor seconds,
augmented primes, major sevenths, augmented fourths and
diminished fifths on violins and orchestral instruments in
general are "dissonant" intervals which press toward "re-
solution." Hence, in the orchestra, they can be used cor-
rectly only in diatonic music. An atonal melody (which

can never be a violin, flute or horn melody, etc!) is

63

disturbed by these "track-like" intervals of orchestral
instruments with their "natural" "resolution tendencies"
which are rooted in the "substance." On an orchestral in-
strument, it sounds just like an "out of tune" diatonic
melody which, in a certain sense, is a "natural" melody:
i.el, one growing out of the "natural" overtone series.
Atonal melody, however, takes its point of departure not
from the "natural," "senuous" relationships of the overtone
series (for instance, of the horns and violins, etc.), but
from the interval itself in its purely intellectual, i.e.,
strictly "musical" meaning. Underlying each of the inter-
vals (apart from their "natural" relations to one another
as they emanate from "nature"--from the "concreteness" of
the overtone series) is a moment.of color and rhythm which
pertains only to the interval concerned and which comprises
the "intellectual," "primal-musical" meaning of the inter-
val. For example, the person who conceives of a major

seventh only as a "dissonant, transitional interval with
the tendency to resolve to the octave still hears only
"naturally," "sensuously," “diatonically” and not "in-
tellectually," "musically" and "atonally." If a person
wants to hear "intellectually" and intuitively, he must be
capable of perceiving each single interval, independent of
the others, as a specific timbre and a basic rhythm: that

is, to "intellectualize" it, to "demechanize" it, by free-

ing his ear from the compulsion for "objectivity." This

64

compulsion was forced upon him by the unmusical and musi-
cally foreign "evolution" of the orchestral music of the
nineteenth century. With their "natural pitch tracks,"
orchestral instruments seduce the ear again and again into
listening diatonically and "concretely," while "equal"-
tempered instruments express intervals in the most "spir-
itualized" form imaginable. This is made possible by the
fact that, in the "equal“.tempered instruments, the twelve
semi-tones (since each individual note is able to vibrate
"freely" and is independent from the others) are evenly
graduated and smoothed out. Many people hear (even from
the piano, for example) nothing other than the orchestra.
They have not yet grasped the "meaning" of equal tempera-
ment and of the immense importance of the piano as com-
pared with the orchestra. Whatever is to be played and
heard on the piano cannot be perceived as long as this in-
strument is used exclusively as a substitute for the or-
chestra (a situation which is becoming more and more in-
adequate).

The "tracks" emanating from the overtone series have,
perhaps, lost their usefulness for our physical ears (i.e.,
ears which become "bogged down in the substance") as well
as, for our mind. There are "listening habits" which are
rooted in the "natural" relationships of the overtone
series: in the "inertia of the mass." They can be overcome

only by the ”intellect": that is, by musical intuition

65

(by "unsensuous," "nonhabitual" and, therefore, creative
listening to intervals, which, from out of its greatest
purity, has brought forth atonal melody as its very own
creation). In a certain sense, the "intellect" shapes

the "material aspect": i.e., the physical ear. The only
person who actually "hears" is the one who is able to
perceive intervals per se, independent of their "natural"
functions as "melodic germs." The ears of a person who
can hear only "sensuously," "naturally" and "mechanically,"
are "dead." What the nineteenth century inherited from
Beethoven were his "dead" ears. Ears which found the ful-
fillment of their aesthetic longing in the music of Wagner
were certainly not musically alive. On the other hand,
Beethoven's intellectually alive ear, which came to the
fore in the last quartets and sonatas, if even only
sporadically, finds its continuance and its "goal" only

in the atonal melody of our time. In Beethoven, the
struggle between the purely intellectual, musical act of
listening and the merely sensual, natural hearing process
(this continually "wanting to return" to "nature"--to
"sensuality"; this "turning away" from the purely musical
in the "spell of the idea"--in the service of the "pro-
gram"; this struggle, which finally degenerated into

*
"ranting and raving" ) led, on the one hand--with the

 

Death [Taub] and losing control [Toben] are etymologi-
cally related by their roots.

66

complete demolition (overstimulation) of the physical,
"sensuous" hearing--to "noise" (look at the passage in

the Ninth Symphony just before "0 Freude, nicht diese
TOne," among others). On the other hand, it led to the
rich chromatic (one could say "atonal“) passages of his
last works which point to our own time. Perhaps, for the
first time, we correctly understand that the criticism,
which the violinists of Beethoven's time made because of
the unplayability of these passages, was not totally
unfounded, and that it certainly was not rooted in the
inferiority of their technical abilities. It is, rather,
that an atonal melody, even one which approximates it, can
not be played on a violin nor on any orchestral instrument
in general. Beethoven's retort, however, was characteris-
tic: "Does he believe that I think about his miserable
violin when the spirit speaks to me?" To a certain degree,
diatonic melody must take into consideration the "natural"
relationships of violins, horns, etc. In so doing, the
"musical" fantasy of the artist is, of course, shackled.
The more diatonic melody approximates the atonal (i.e. the
more fthe intellect speaks"-—the musical premonition), the
more it comes into conflict with these "natural" relation-
ships. Aesthetically, it is absolutely unacceptable to
allow a pure atonal melody to be made physically audible

through the means of an orchestral instrument.

67

Beethoven was never able to overcome entirely the
"sensuousness" of music, and towards the end of his life,
he even lost command over the "substance." With him be-
gins the "rape" of the instruments. It was reserved for
the pure atonal melody to do away with course sensuality
and with the "concrete" effect of the orchestra, program

music and music which imitates nature.

OVERTONE BEATS

 

With the tempered instruments (piano, harmonium and
organ), the color-effect of single intervals is increased
considerably through the overtone beats. For that reason,
one speaks of an "equal-beated" temperament, that is, of
one in which all fifths, all fourths, all major seconds,
etc. exhibit the same beats.

On the piano, for example, we play the fifth, C-G.
The second overtone of C is G which lies one decimal point
above the dotted line as a "pure" fifth. (Refer to Drawing
B.) The first overtone of the "tempered" G (its octave,
G) lies on the dotted line (consequently, one decimal
point lower), and hence will enter into vibration with
the overtone of C. One can imagine a similar process on
the piano with all other intervals with their tones and
overtones. Through temperament, these overtone beats are
equalized according to the rules. They differ for each

interval but characteristically for each interval, so that

 

they strengthen the sensuous effect of the colors. Just

68

think of the "charm" of the beats on the vox celesta.

 

The physical explanation of these facts (phenomena of
interference) can be found in any book on physics.

Thus, even in atonal music, "sensuality" (admittedly
refined, intellectualized and "aestheticized") does not

need to be left empty handed.

LEADING-TONE TRACKS

 

"Pure" intervals (and natural pitches as well) force
the ear in certain "tracks" which resemble growth rings in
wood. In equal temperament, however, these tracks are
completely removed, therefore allowing the connection of
all notes with all others. This is similar to marble (in
contrast to wood) and its ability to split in all direc-
tions. Up until now, this preeminent property of tempera-
ment was not recognized and, perhaps, not even needed,
since one composed almost exclusively in major and minor
(that is, in the realm of natural pitches with their
dominant effect). There are people who still have the
"natural" progressions and resolutions (which are bound.
up with mechanics, technics and the construction of
orchestral instruments) in their ears, and who are still
not able to overcome the "enertia of the mass" in a
listening situation. These peOple refer to temperament
as "a necessary device with passably sericeable intervals,"
a "compromise," a "standoff" and the like without thinking

that "modern," normal "voice—leading" and modulations

69

War!» in general, possible only through the despised
“temperament."

The "tracks," however, are still derived from diatonic
consonances and dissonances (from the overtone or natural-
tone series). The strongest among them is the seventh
note (leading tone!) of a major or minor scale. It presses
toward complete consonance, i.e., to the octave: to the
first overtone. Taken in the "pure" form (note the il-
lustrations), there is no escape for the sensuous ear; it

(the seventh) allows no other interpretation than this:

Its closest relative is the minor second which can be

regarded as its inversion:

(Guided by Illustration D, observe the connection
between the "leading-tone affinity" of the individual inter-
vals and the "evoking" of complementary colors, and compare
what was said above the order of colors found in the
tempered chromatic scale.) Atonal music has come into
complete conflict with this, the strongest of all sensuous
(diatonic) tracks. In the atonal system, the major seventh
has become an independent interval which occupies the same

position as all others. In the old style, one had to say:

70

it must be resolved to a consonance. Now look at the
drawings and see how temperament divests this interval of
its leading-tone implications! It is "broken" to such an
extent that it is almost a C-flat. In this manner, the
strongest of all tracks has been done away with. The
fracturing of the minor second is similar in nature. The
next strongest leading tones lead into the fifth and into
the fourth: i.e., into the next consonant intervals of

the overtone series. The tritone:

W

 

Observe how temperament removes the sensuous single-
mindedness (the pronounced F-sharp or G-flat implications)
and leads it directly to the mid-point of the octave. If
these "tracks" were not disposed of, not one measure of a
pure atonal piece of music could be performed correctly.
The other leading-tone tracks of pure intonation, with
their "resolution tendencies" inclining either to the fifth
or to the fourth, are now understandable. In atonal music,
their "natural" progressions are violated hundreds of
times.

Having reached a compromise between noise and the
overtone series, there are no longer any consonances or
dissonances with the equi-distant pitches of equal tempera-
ment. Starting from any note, one can describe a complete

circle of intervals while in pure tuning, as with a gully

71

(a spiral!), there are only two ways out and thus, the
"mechanical" means of enharmonic exchange must be adhered
to. As an example, we see that with the whole-tone scale
in pure intonation (C, D, E, F-sharp, G-sharp, A-sharp,
B-sharp, C-double-sharp, D-double-sharp, etc. or C, B-flat,
A-flat, G-flat, F-flat, E-double-flat, D-double-flat, etc.)
it is impossible to return to C without aiding (unfortunate-
ly, this has to be done when composing in the old diatonic
system!) the situation by, for example, allowing an A-flat
to be used directly after an F-sharp or vice versa. If
this was done, however, the whole-tone scale would no
longer consist of equi-distant pitches but would be dis-
organized: i.e., it would receive an entirely different
meaning. (in such a case, the ear would expect a G [a
"resolution"] between the F-sharp and the A-flat and the
like.) Therefore, we conclude that the whole-tone scale
can be played properly only on an equal-tempered instrument
(a piano, harmonium or organ). Stated in other terms: a
diminished seventh chord played on the piano can be re-
interpreted as often as one wants. With "pure" intonation
(in a good orchestra, for instance), this would not be
possible. Think about the enharmonic exchange (of a pure
'A-flat to the pure G-sharp, for example) and also compare

it to the illustrations:

 

 

 

 

 

72

Strictly speaking (in "pure" tuning), there would
actually have to be an audible change between A-flat and
G-sharp in such a situation (atonal music constantly
encounters similar ones).

The physical existence of a chord in equal tempera-
ment (on the piano, for example) is probably unimportant
per se, but, by the same token, it ensures to the "musical"
imagination, i.e., to the "intellect" (in its entirety),
the greatest possible freedom of movement in all directions.
Physical temperament is a neutral, harmless, indefinite,
nonsensuous and, as was said, a "tempered" noise which
receives its meaning only through the "music": i.e., ex-
clusively from the intellect. In the orchestra it's dif-
ferent, for, in that case, there are "tracks" which cannot
be avoided. To be sure, the orchestra also has to be
tempered (if only to make the above-quoted enharmonic ex-
changes as "unmechanical" and, hence, as melodic as pos-
sible) but this tempering is unequal, arbitrary and too
strongly subject ("chaotically") to "chance," to the physi-
cal, to the overtone laws and to the mechanical. There-
fore, if need be, it might still be used in "diatonic-
modulatoric" music, but not in atonal music. Apart from
that, atonal music also ignores its [orchestral tempera-
ment] inner musical feature as regards the so-called
"localized," "perspectivized," "steotyped" properties of

orchestral instruments (trumpet fanfares, violin glissandi,

73

kettledrum rolls, etc., etc.). Through the "development"
of the orchestra, music, which after all, is the typical

"abstract" art, became more and more "representational":

i.e., estranged from its real nature.

In its complete purity, atonal melody is the embodi-
ment of absolute objectivity of melody. Consequently, it
proceeds from the "abstract quality" of music by completely
laying hold of this "inner" object which is apparent in
the music of Bach, Haydn and Mozart, but which was in the
process of changing into an externalized object in the
music of Beethoven. To use music merely as a means of
expression and representation, is contrary to the nature
of music--something which was understood less and less in
the course of the nineteenth century. Only atonal melody
is capable of rehabilitating it. Absolute objectivity in
melody, after all, demands the sacrifice of the personal-
ity, for, in realizing a melody in that utter objectivity,
the personal element (in its aesthetic transposition,
naturally) no longer plays a role. Thus, the net result
of atonal music is that it points to an essential contrast
existing in the entirety of European intellectual life to
the present time. This opposition is between musical
intuition and the conception of the idea, the latter of
which governed the intellectual life of the Western world
both B.C. and A.D. Simply stated, it was aimed at the dis-

play and the resulting effect of the personality.

74

INTERVAL COMPLEXES

 

By "modifying" the "pure" intervals in our tempera-
ment, the "sensuous leading-tone tracks" are removed and,
through this means, the intellectual, purely musical char-
acter of the individual "interval complexes" finds true
expression for the first time. In the following illustra-
tion, the pure C-sharp and D-flat form the outer limits
of the interval complex: augmented prime-minor second.
Beyond these limits, the pitch progression sounds complete-

ly "wrong" to our ears.

 

Thus, certain overtones (natural pitches) are, in fact,
musically totally unsuitable, because they transcend these
limits too far (look at Illustration B: pitches ll, 13
and 7.) "Tempering" takes place within the "pure" inter-
vals. At one particular point this tempering is "equal
tempered" or, at least, so tempered that the twelve
pitches are equi-distant from each other. At all other
points, however, it is "untempered" and approximates pure
tuning, thus making it unusable for atonal music (which
comes from "totality"). The point at which equal tem-

perament occurs is, so to speak, the "center of gravity" of

75

the entire interval complex. (Check this with Illustra-
tion A.)
THE LAW OF INTERVALS AND TONALITY

What a person receives from an interval and what he
puts into an interval, is a matter of intuition and natur-
ally not an arbitrary one. From the drawings and from
music literature of all periods, we will see that it is
possible to deduce a law for the musical meaning of inter-
vals and, in connection therewith, of transpositions and
diatonic keys; in other words, a "doctrine of tone color"
in its truest sense.

It goes without_saying that, in singing a melody, for
example, one must proceed from a certain pitch or that the
piano tuner sets the temperament from a certain pitch (A)
or that, in putting the notes in alphabetical order, one
would likewise have to begin with a particular note. These
are things which are easily understood, but which mean
little by themselves when considering "musical" things.
Agreement has been reached on them. A greater significance
must be ascribed to them (placing us immediately in the
realms of the intellect), however, since we derive our keys
(through the employment of flats and sharps as accidentals)
from a fundamental key (C major). The intellectual (formal)
significance of this process is seen in the fact that the
particular pitch from which we proceed is totally irrele-

vant. This means that if we once accept a key (let's take

76

C major) as a fundamental key (at any pitch level), all

the other keys will immediately group themselves according
to the intervallic laws, somewhat in the manner of crystal,
coral or plants around the parent stalk. (Look at Illus-
tration B.) This musical but also mathematically demon-
strable process takes place inwardly or "intellectually"

in every musician, from childhood on without influence

from the outside. In this manner, each key obtains its
character from its relationship to the basic key and

through its place in the "system". All keynotes of the

keys stand in a fixed intervallic relationship to the key-
note C (independent of absolute pitch) as well as in a
tension relationship which contains an "intellectual"
significance within itself. Since time immemorial, this was
essential for the "musical element," and it is, gg_ip§g, the
"intellectual" character of the key in question. (Only

in "genuine" music, of course.)

The internal law, according to which the keys "organ-
ically" sprout out in the direction of the circle of fifths
and fourths (comprising all the intervals) from a basic key
which assumes the desired pitch, is nothing other than the
"transcendental" law of musical listening. Even in musical
people there exists some doubt on this point. This doubt
is incomprehensible to me, and it is for this reason that
I want to set forth a few words about the manner in which

I myself came to the discovery of the law of the interval

77

and key. Through extensive study of classical works, it
struck me that a certain conformity prevailed among the
expression-forms of the individual keys, particularly in
the compositions of Bach and Mozart. All pieces in D
major, for example, have a light-winged, jubilant (allegro)
character while those in A—flat major have a sustained,
flowing (andante) character, etc. But the question still
remained as to what moved composers to set a piece with
this or that character in this or that key. Physical
elements, which play an important part in the orchestra
(that A-flat major, for instance, sounds very dark as a
result of the strange conditions in the "natural pitch
tracks" of the instruments) cannot be the only ones of any
consequence, since this practice was followed even with
the piano where relatively similar physical relations
prevail among the keys. This phenomenon, which lasted for
centuries and, in spite of varying external circumstances,
always remained the same with all "genuinely" great
musicians, must have a deeper "intellectual" root. And
then, I slowly came to the fact that the musical character
of a composition in D major, for example, was in agreement
with the "gesture" of the major second. Similarly, the
character of a piece in A-flat major was in agreement with
the "movement" of the minor sixth and that of one in C
major was in agreement with the octave, etc., etc. The

step from this realization to the act of classifying all

78

twelve intervals of the circle of fifths and fourths with
their "complementary" counterparts was only a small one.
Thus, the formula for the law of intervals and keys was

found.

CHARACTERISTICS OF INTERVALS (KEYS AND TIMBRES)

 

Confronted once again with the "primal-musical" mean-
ing of the interval, we come to the realization that real
musicians of all times have utilized particular intervals
and tone colors as well as suitable keys and instruments,
in order to achieve a particular character in their music.

Goethe states:

From the concept of the contrary image and
from the knowledge we have gained from the
particular processes themselves, we can
conclude that, in the active organ, the
individual impressions of color can't be
confused and that they specifically produce
and are obliged to generate conditions
which are both definite and specific.

The same pertains to the mind. Experience
teaches us that individual colors yield
particular states of mind.

We are musically and theoretically accustomed to
thinking of starting from C. Our notation, the system of
pure intervals, the old keys, the ranges of the human
voice (bass and soprano can reach one-line C--C clef), the
formation of the keyboard (white keys are C major) and so
forth, have resulted in the fact that our feeling for

intervals takes its point of departure from C. If we now

employ the circle of intervals (circle of fifths and

79

fourths) beginning from C, every pitch will receive its

identity from the interval it forms with C. Therefore,

the character of the octave is identified with that of C
major, that of the fifth with that of G major, and that

of the fourth with that of F major, etc. (Refer to 11-

lustration D.)

It has already been pointed out that absolute pitch
does not play the important role which many believe. It
is simply the convention and habit of the "physical" ear
of the respective period, country and so forth. The keys
with their character (intervals beginning from a point of
concentration [C]), however, exist in the "intellectual"
ear first--or they don't exist at all--and then they are
introduced and engraved into the sounding body (through
performance, execution, expression, etc.). This certainly
is comforting to our nerves, particularly if we adhere to
a traditional system of tuning.

The octave is the sole "pure" interval in equal tem-
perament. It is the musical manifestation of freedom and
light as well as being the place where intellect and nature
come in contact with one another. In the octave, pitch
returns to itself at a higher level. Since it has no
beats--therefore exhibiting no "refraction" (see above as
well as the Illustrations)--it could well be compared to

white light. (We are also reminded of the passage in The

80

Creation by Haydn where the "Es werde Licht" rings out
in the C major chord played by the entire orchestra.)

Goethe states:

Colors are the deeds of light, deeds and
misfortunes. The origination of colors and
the decision making process are one and the
same. '

Generally speaking, it (color) is deter-
mined according to two factors. It ex-
hibits a contrast called polarity, which
could very well be indicated through a

plus or a minus sign. Plus is to minus

as: yellow is to blue; action is to rest;
light is to shadow; bright is to dark;
strength is to weakness; warmth is to
coolness; proximity is to distance; re-
pulsion is to attraction; the affinity for
acids is to the affinity for alkalies.

The intervals classed with the fifths (fifths, major
seconds, major sixths, major thirds, major sevenths and
augmented fourths) gravitate upwards, i.e., they have the
tendency toward motion and were always used according to
the ascending principle. According to the degree of their
Vrefractions" (note the Illustrations and the number of
decimal points), we can compare them with the vivid, warm
colors "of the plus-sided" yellow and red in which Goethe
felt vivacity, energy and purpose.

The intervals classed with the fourth (fourths, minor
seconds, minor thirds, minor sixths and diminished fifths)
have the tendency toward repose: i.e., they follow the

falling cadential principle. They correspond to the

quiet, cold colors "of the minus-sided" green and blue

81

which, according to Goethe, relates to a mood of soft and
longing sentiment.

In this way, we can even put the color spectrum on a
par with the circle of intervals (beginning from C). The
basis for doing this is probably to be found in the intel-
lectual identity of the acts of seeing and hearing. (See
Illustration D.) Pitches per se (abstractly thought of as
points) cannot be compared to colors. Intervals, sounds
and chords (pitches being sounds together with the over—
tone spectrum), however, can be compared with colors. We
will take C (white) as the dividing line between green and
yellow and, in like manner, take the other notes of the
circle of fifths and nuances, as in this manner: yellow--
G--orange--D--vermilion--A--carmine--E--purple red--B--
purple violet--F-sharp--blue violet--D-flat--ultramarine
blue-~A-flat-—turquoise blue--E-flat--blue green--B-flat--
vermilion green--F-—light green. F-sharp (G-flat)--actu-
ally black--stands, therefore, as the greatest contrast to
C.

We said above, that minor signifies the first step in
the spiritualization of music. Since the major triad is
present in every pitch of the harmonic series, major re-
mains physically unbroken. A timbre in major, therefore,
appears to us as the most natural (obviously sensual).
Beside the "color" of the fundamental (its intervallic re-
lationship to C), the interval of the minor third (to C)

also plays a role in the minor mode.

82

We will now proceed through the circle of fifths,
and look at all manifestations of color-effects in music
(and, in connection with them, the rhythmic manifestations
as well) as they are found in the appropriate pitches
(keys and intervals calculated from C). Compare Illustra-
tion D with the other illustrations and with the following
classification. With each pitch, first of all imagine the
interval in question as being reckoned from C and, in
addition, pay attention to the nucleus of its "motion:"

i.e., to its "gesture". (Intuitive listening!)

The Melos of the Octave.

 

C: The Jupiter Symphony of Mozart.

 

First Prelude of the First Book of the Well-
Tempered Clavier by Bach.

 

Victory and wedding marches. Solemn and festive
hymns.

The virgin-like pure sound of the oboe with its
dominating position among the woodwinds, its
conical bore, the over-blowing of the octave;
therefore, its definite C character.

In C minor, the solemn C is fractured by the
pathetic E-flat.

Fantasy in C minor by Mozart.

 

The old Lydian mode (Ionic style).

The Melos of the Augmented Fourth or Diminished Fifth.

 

F-sharp: The Promethean pitch: complementary to C (also
notice the comparisons of the colors in the
following).

Right on the line between G-flat and F-sharp,
i.e., "pure" (note Illustrations A, B and C);

83

in the middle between the dominant G and the
subdominant F; perceived more as a vivacious
pitch (interval of the fifth) by our intellectual
ears.

This color appears in the orchestra very seldom;
the usual orchestral keys of E-flat, B-flat, F,
C, G, D and A comprise, therefore, only about
half of the color circle; in the orchestra, the
circle is not completed (see above).

Assistant Professor Dr. Wilhelm Fischer has called my

attention to the following: In the St. Matthew Passion of

Bach, the second part ("Eroffen den feuerigen Abgrund o

Hdlle") proceeds from the first part (at the chorus, "Sind

Blitze, sind Donner in Wolken verschwunden") in the key of

F-sharp.

Goethe says:

Increasing the depth and hue of the red-blue
increases the unrest, and it can be well as-
sumed that a tapestry saturated entirely with
blue-red would represent a kind of unbearable
presence. Crimson is a color which must be
very much hated by the French since they use
the expressions sot'en cramoisi, méchant en
cramoisi to represent the extreme of the
tastless and noxious.

(Note also what Goethe has to say about purple in the sec-

tion on the note B below.)

The Melos of the Fifth.

G:

Biedermeier pitch; somewhat blaring as with
trumpets (emphasizing the second overtone--beats
of the interval of the fifth); somewhat trivial.

Chamber music in G by the classical composers
(popular hymns originally in the Biedermeier
pitch now often transposed to E-flat major [look
at that section] and presented with military
pathos).

84

The one which is emphasized when articulating,
mostly on the heavy first beat; solemn rhythms.

In G minor, the color is rent by the pious,
somewhat awkward B-flat.

From the Requiem of Mozart: Rex tremendae . . .
"Herr, dess' Allmacht Schrecken zeuget, der sich
fromm den Frommen neiget, rette mich, Urquell
der Gnade!" Quam Olim Abrahae . . . "Das

Panier des heiligen MichaeI'begleite sie zum
ewigen Lichte, welches du verheissen hast
Abraham und seinem Geschlechte."

 

 

In the Symphony in G Minor by Mozart, the sunny,
light G is overshowed by the autumnal, misty
B-flat.

 

The old Ionian mode.
Goethe says:

Yellow is the closest color to light. It
comes about through the slightest moderation
of light. In its greatest purity, it always
bears with it the essence of light and al-
ways possesses a cheerful, enchanting,
slightly stimulating quality.

In this state, it is like a background, be it
on clothing, draperies or carpeting. In its
totally unmixed state, gold gives us a fresh
and better idea of this color, particularly
if we consider the luster. Thus, as a deep
yellow, it produces a splendid and noble ef-
fect if it appears on shiny silk (on satin,
for example).

Thus, it is in keeping with our experience
that yellow would make a thoroughly warm and
comfortable impression.

In.its purity and its propensity for bright-
ness, this color is enjoyable and has some-
thing cheerful and noble in its entire being.
On the other hand, however, it is very sen-
sitive and will create a very unpleasant
effect if it is sullied or pulled somewhat
to the minus side. Thus, the color of sul-
phur, which inclines toward green, has some-
thing unpleasant about it.

85

The Melos of the Minor Second.

 

D-flat:

Works of Chopin in D-flat.
Soft, sensitive touch; leggiero.

In C-sharp minor, the D-flat is subdued by the
fluctuation between E and C-sharp.

The Moonlight Sonata of Beethoven.

 

The "C-sharp minor Fugue" of Bach from the first
book of the Well-Tempered Clavier.

 

Goethe states:

Blue intensifies very gently into red and,
in so doing, obtains a somewhat active
character although it is to be found on
the passive side. Its attractiveness,
however, is of a different sort than that
of red-yellow. It doesn't invigorate so
much as it agitates. '

Just as this intensification itself cannot
be halted, it is also wished that one
could proceed with this color forever but
not, as is the case with red-yellow, al-
ways to advance forward actively but to
find a point where one could rest.

The Melos of the Major Second.

 

D:

The violin-pitch (predominance of the eighth
overtone; beats of the major second).

The Violin Concerto by Beethoven.

 

Innumerable melodies for the violin by Mozart.

The chorus, "An die Freude," in the Ninth
Symphony by Beethoven.

From the Requiem of Mozart (Sanctus): "Voll
sind Himmel und Erde deiner Ehre . . .."

In D minor, the boisterous, frothy D is dampened
(pensive, reflective, sentimental) by the quiet
F. Renunciation of sensuality.

The old Phrygian mode (Corinthian style).

86

With the Greeks, this key (color!) was used as a
restorative in conditions of insanity. Furthermore, in
the Viennese waltzes, most of which are in D major, one sees
an increased merriment in the dancing.
Goethe says:
Since no color can be regarded as being
stationary, one can very easily heighten
and increase the yellow through the con-
centration and darkening of the redish.
The color increases in energy and appears

grander and more powerful in the red-
yellow.

The Melos of the Minor Sixth:

 

A-flat: Romantic pitch; Schumann.

Impromptu of Schubert; Romanze in A-flat by
Mozart. Harp-pitch.

 

 

Goethe states:

This color creates a peculiar and almost
inexpressible effect for the eye. As a
color, it is energy. Alone, it stays on
the negative side and in its greatest
purity is, as it were, a stimulating
nothing. Because of its capacity for
stimulus and repose, it is somewhat con-
tradictory in appearance.

As surely as we see the blue of the sky
above or the blue of the mountains, a blue
surface seems to retreat from us.

As we like to follow a pleasant object
which flees from us, so we like to look
at blue nOt because it rushes toward us
but because it draws us toward it. Blue
gives us the feeling of coolness just as
it reminds us of shadows.

87

The Melos of the Major Sixth:

 

A:

Spring. Innumerable examples.

In A minor, the shooting, darting A is somewhat
subdued by the solemn C.

The Confutatis from the Requiem of Mozart: "Wenn
Empbrung, FluEh and Rache wird gebflsst in heissen
Flammen . . . ."

 

The Aeolian Mode (Corinthian style).

Goethe says:

Everything that we have said about yellow

also pertains here but to a higher degree.
Since it represents the color of the fiery
blaze as well as the softer reflection of

the setting sun, orange actually gives the
eye the feeling of warmth and joy.

The Melos of the Minor Third.

 

E-flat:

Third Symphony of Beethoven.

 

From Mozart's Requiem: Hostias . . .: "Opfer
und gebet bringen dir, Herr, lobsingend wir
dar."

[Observe the fine difference between Beethovenian
and Mozartian pathos. One can be seen from the
standpoint of dominance and the other from the
standpoint of the contrite congregation which
submits itself to the Lord.]

Goethe says:

It is not unpleasant if the blue of the plus
side participates to some extent. Sea-green
is a rather lovely color.

The Melos of the Major Third.

 

E:

"Prelude in E major" from Book I of the Well-
Tempered Clavier.

 

In E minor, the color becomes somewhat paler
through the G natural.

88

Midsummer Night's Dream and other works of
Mendelssohn.

 

The old Dorian mode (the first one according to
its origins).

Goethe says:

Just as pure yellow can easily progress into
orange (red-yellow), so the deepening of the
latter into yellow-red cannot be arrested.
The pleasant, joyful sensation which red-
yellow gives us increases to unbearable
forcefulness in the bright yellow-red.

The active side is present here in its
greatest energy, and it is no wonder that
healthy, robust, rough-and-ready people are
especially fond of this color. The inclina-
tion to this color by uncivilized people
throughout the world has been noted. If
children are left to their own devices,
they will not spare the vermilion and

the sunlight yellow when beginning to

draw. The appearance of a yellow-red

cloth stimulates and agitates animals.

(Note also what Goethe has to say about purple which is

included in the section on B.)

The Melos of the Minor Seventh.

 

B-flat:

The Fourth Symphony of Beethoven.

 

Masses and symphonies in B-flat by Haydn.

From the Requiem of Mozart: "Tuba mirum spargens

 

sonum . . . ." Benedictus . . .WGesegnet sei,
der da kommt im Namen des Herrn!"

"Prelude in B-flat minor" in the Well-Tempered
Clavier (the pious, reflective B-flat is broken
by the melancholy D-flat).

 

The B—flat clarinet, the most favored of this
family (dominance of the sixth partial; beats of
the minor seventh).

Goethe:

Our eyes find great satisfaction in it (green).

89

The Melos of the Major Seventh.

 

B:

Preludes and fugues from the Well-Tempered
Clavier. The Unfinished Symphony in B minor by
Schubert (the desperate, unsatisfied B is
fractured by the sensuous D which yearns for
life; no finale could come after this).

 

 

B minor Mass of Bach (doubt--faith). The old
Mixolydian mode (Dorian style), according to the
old tradition discovered by Sappho.

 

Goethe says:

The effect of this color (purple) is as
unique as its nature. It gives an impres-
sion of seriousness and dignity as well as
grace and élan. It produces the former in
its dark, dense state and the latter in its
bright, thinned-out state. Therefore, the
dignity of old age and the charm of youth
can be clothed in one color.

History often tells us about jealousy on
the part of sovereigns for purple. A
background of this color is always serious
and sumptuous.

Purple glass shows a well illuminated land-
scape in a fruitful light. Thus, this hue
will have to be spread over heaven and
earth on the day of judgement.

The Melos of the Fourth.

 

F:

The Pastoral Symphony of Beethoven.

 

In F minor, the tranquil F is further emphasized
by the plaintive A-flat.

 

Appasionata Sonata of Beethoven.

The natural horn (among all horns, the F horn has
existed the longest).

The old Hypodorian mode (Ionian style).

Goethe states:

. . . thus the eye and the mind rest. One
does not want to proceed further and, indeed,

90

one can not proceed further. Therefore, in
rooms in which a great deal of time is spent,
the color green is the most often selected
for wall coverings.

The examples, naturally, may be extended considerably
in which case the entire explanation is only that much bet-
ter for it. The catchworks used to indicate the character
of the individual keys and intervals in Illustration D
must not be interpreted too narrowly. Aside from the fact
that it is nearly impossible to express something purely
musical with words, it is very difficult to delimit the
character of the individual keys. Everything musical must
be thought of as being in motion (no color may be regarded
as being in a state of rest, says Goethe) particularly as
it applies to the motion of fifths and fourths. For example,
G major often is only an intensified C major, and E major
is an intensified A major. On the other hand, F major is
often derived from C major and D-flat is often derived from
A-flat. With some attentiveness, it is not difficult to
recognize the connections. Particular progressions of in-

tervals often play a large role in melodies. In the first

piece of the Kinderszenen (written in G major) by Schumann,

 

for example, the "romantic" minor sixth appears three times
in succession and lends the composition the flowing, soft
A—flat major character. Schumann could have written
nearly every one of his compositions in A-flat major.

Chopin, on the other hand, was definitely a D-flat person,

91

(Dr. H. Riemann has already pointed out this situation in
one of his writings.)

In atonal music, however, which is derived from
"totality," only the intervals play a role. Musical
character is no longer expressed through a major or minor
keys and through characteristic instruments (i.e., through
a color), but only through the totality of the intervals
and the timbres which is heard in its purest state on an
equal-tempered instrument. In atonal music, there are no
longer any tonics, dominants, subdominants, degrees, re-
solutions, consonances or dissonances: only the twelve
intervals of equal temperament. Its "scale," therefore,
consists of the twelve tempered semi-tones. In atonal
melodies, the purely physical and sensuous as well as the
trivial and sentimental is excluded as far as possible.
Its "law," i.e. its "nomos," consists of the fact that,
within a certain pitch series itself, no pitch may be
repeated and none may be left out. (The basic law of
"melody“ in general states that no pitch is to receive
physical predominance [a dominating importance of funda-
mental character] and that no implications of degree and
no leading-tone tracks are to arise. Through this means,
the creator and the listener are left to cope only with
the purely musical matter of the interval in its "spirit-
'uality." In order to calm those who see an "impoverish-

ment" in twelve-tone music, it must only be mentioned that

92

these twelve tones harbor 479,001,600 possibilities of
melos (compared with the 5,040 for seven-tone music), and
that, in each of these possibilities, there is a correct
and genuine melody which can be extracted. This is the
task of the musician. Once again we shall see that in-
tuitive listening to the intervalé-the purely melodic
listening--is the condition for understanding atonal music.
There is a great difference between intuitive "hearing"

of the intervals and hearing the "natural" pitch pro-
gressions.

To us Europeans, this kind of creating and listening
is still foreign and it is truly not easy to place our
"individuality" entirely in the service of an "object"
(this time, the musical object of the interval); i.e., to
be absorbed in it, as it were. In the composing of atonal
melodies, the "originality" of the individual consists
only of correctly "resolving" one "event" (in our "atonal
school," we call it a "building block"). This, however,
requires the subjugation of the entire "personality" for
the sake of the "object." We realize that in our works it
still is more difficult to obey the primary laws of the
interval in its intellectuality and to restrain our own
"emotional life" (to put it aside) than "to live a high
life" and "sow wild oats" in an "emotional art" expressed
in personal rhythms and "manuscript." Hence, we surmise

that in each of the 470,001,600 "cases," there is only

93

one single possibility of a "correct" solution. It is
the object and aim of composing to find and to realize
musically this "correct" solution.

Whether musicians of all periods consciously or un-
consciously used intervals (timbres and keys) in a correct

manner is unclear when evaluating all these questions.

COMPLEMENTARY INTERVALS

 

Complementary colors mutually supplement each other
with "white.” With complementary intervals (see the
classification and Illustration D), if one "subtracts" the

smaller from the larger (for example:

 

 

the fourth, CeF, from the seventh, C-B, or the second,
C-D—flat, from the fifth, C-G), the augmented fourth
(diminished fifth)--actually "black," i.e., a nothing, no
color--always remains. Therefore, that which emerges
negatively in intervals (timbres) is the same as that which

proceeds in a positive manner in colors.

THE SEVEN OCTAVES OF THE PIANO

 

Perhaps the higher (shrill) and the lower (muffled)
pitches in music correspond to the stronger and weaker
sources of light. This comparison is even valid if one

bears in mind that with the lower pitches, larger "masses"

94

will be set in motion, and that "bodies" most certainly cast
"shadows." Thus, the seven degrees of brightness of colors
which painters employ when painting could be compared with
the seven octaves of the piano. In this way, the bright
side of the spectrum, which tends toward white light, could
be compared with the higher range of the piano, and the
gradations on the dark side, which tend toward black, could
be compared with the lower ranges of the piano. The middle
step in the gradation of hues between the three bright and
the three dark colors represents, as it were, the shade
itself in an intensity which the color-tone can clearly
follow up in the circle (intervals!). This could be com-
pared with the middle range of the piano, which piano
makers simply refer to as "the temperament." From that
point outward, the piano tuner begins to tune and to temper.
Once he has firmly established the temperament in this mid-
range, he tunes the other ranges from there in octaves.
Similar to the continuation of the degree of brightness
(toward the light as well as the dark side), the individual
colors become more and more indistinguishable, losing their
color character by closely approximating either white or
black. In the same way, one can establish an octave on the
piano (either below or above), the individual pitches of
which could realize the color character of their interval-
lic relationships. Individual colors emerge most clearly

and most pleasantly in the mid-range of the color circle.

95

In like manner, the timbre-character of intervals is heard
to be most decidedly sensuous in the middle range of the
piano.

NOTATION

In order to notate atonal music, a notation is needed
which has an individual symbol (point) for each pitch of
the temperament (let's call them C - D—flat - D - E—flat -
E - F — F-sharp - G - A-flat - A - B-flat - B).

Consequently, it isn't "temperament" which is
"makeshift," a "compromise," or a "standoff" but the
"diatonic notation."

At this juncture, I would like to point out that I
have invented an atonal notation for my private use which
is simpler than the tonal notation and which has con-
siderably facilitated my work. After the first draft, the
clean copy is finished in the old notation with a footnote
stating that the accidentals are only valid (even within
the barlines) for the notes before which they appear.

The "building—block" of a purely atonal melody in the old

and new notation would look like this:

 

96

ATONAL INSTRUMENTS

 

The sound media suitable for atonal music are the
atonal (well-tempered) instruments (piano, harpsichord,
harmonium, organ and celesta) and the human voice.

The piano arose from the ear-desire for the totality
of tone color. From a few pigments and through adroit
mixing, the painter prepares a color circle to the best
of his ability which, to a certain degree, corresponds to
the "ideal of totality." In a similar manner, the piano
maker builds (from various intractable materials) a
sounding body in which the overtone series, noise and the
strength of the pitches are so evenly graduated that the
"intervals" with their characteristic beats are able to
come to the foreground. Through the effect of the pedal,
moreover, the piano is far superior to all other instru-
ments, even the orchestra itself. The piano is the most
spiritual instrument, for it is that instrument which has
overcome the resistance of the material of the sounding
body to the highest degree. The piano trains the ear to
"intellectual" listening (listening to "pure sounds"--to
"pure timbres") but it also lures unmusical people, who
listen "abstractly," to this abstract, unmusical listening.

I The human voice is exceedingly adaptable (elastic) and
can thus express all intervals and timbres prescribed by
the musical "intellect." It simply comes down to the fact

that the singer has to have a mental grasp of temperament

97

(the "totality"), and that he proceed with his art in such
a way that the art is freed from any suggested or actual
moments of sexuality. It is beyond doubt that the human
voice, particularly when singing, somehow speaks to sex-
uality in ways which are vague and not easily understood.
The primal-musical element, however, in its pure intel-
lectual state, is, like all things intellectual, sexually
neutral. The sexual element is a fact of nature but
certainly not of the intellect. What should one think of

a type of music which, as a final result, releases in the
listener the need to further the "horizontal trade?" There
is such music (there really is--in the "exalted temples" of
the art of our time--the present time!!) being played, and
not just in nightclubs or taverns.

Atonal melody, in its absolute musical purity, even
here will bring about a change. It should be mentioned,
by the way, that atonal melody moves on that musically basic
-1evel upon which Gregorian chant has maintained itself to
our own day despite many misinterpretations.

Atonal melodies cannot and may not be yodeled or
warbled. In so doing, we approach, in vocal technique, the
"color singing" of the Orientals which shifts the voice
placement toward the upper register.

Underlying touch (bearing in mind that the typical and
most noble keyboard instrument is the piano), perhaps, is

something analogous: the striking of the hammer in marble

98

by the sculptor (yes, something truly analogous, such as
the spiritual act of conceiving a three-dimensional object
in this material).

Perhaps the application of color to a surface cor-
responds to the setting of air into motion. The attack
brings contour and rhythm into the "color." A color
without contour and a contour without color can be con-
templated abstractly but cannot be concretely represented.
The same is the case, naturally, in the sphere of music.
Rhythm must emerge directly from the "motion" of the color
(melos). On the other hand, if this is composed into it
only in retrospect, the entire thing gets an air of the
"abstract."*

MUSIC'AND’PAINTING

 

When Goethe wrote the following passage in his

Farbenlehre, perhaps he was thinking about the interval

 

which is.a musical as well as a physically mathematical

"element":

It has always been felt that there is a
certain relationship existing between color
and sound as the frequent comparisons, which

 

* For that reason, even the proper conception of agogic
and dynamic shadings of a melody come about by them-
selves and therefore overloading the manuscript with
interpretive marks is superfluous. Bach used almost no
marks of interpretation in his Well-Tempered Clavier.
Only the "tone poets" found it necessary to write an
entire "novel" for each note. In my compositions, I
simply write the following: "expression according to
the melos."

 

99

were reached partly in a cursory and partly
in a detailed fashion, prove. The mistake
which is made in this regard touches on the
following:

In no way may color and sound be compared
to one another. However, both of them
refer to a higher order; both of them derive
from a higher order, yet, each for itself
alone. Color and sound are to each other
as two rivers which originate on the same
mountain, but under entirely different con-
ditions, run to two opposite regions of the
world so that on their individual journeys,
not one single place could be compared with
that of the other. Both are general, ele-
mentary effects which work according to the
general law of separation and amalgamation,
of undulation and oscillation, though in
entirely different directions, in different
ways, to different intermediate elements
and for different senses.

If someone could rightly grasp the manner
and way in which we connected the doctrine
of color with the general doctrine of
nature and, through good fortune and in-
telligence, restore to us that which es-
caped us or that which we missed, it is
our belief that the doctrine of sound could
be perfectly connected to general physics.
As it stands now, it remains isolated, as
it were, within the latter only in an his-
torical sense.

But therein might lie the greatest dif-
ficulty, i.e., that of overthrowing music
which became something positive for us and
which originated in peculiarly empirical,
accidental, mathematical, aesthetical and
intellectual ways. We would throw this
over in favor of a physical treatment and
would reduce it to its primary, physical
elements. Perhaps, after so many good
preliminary studies, there would be the
time and opportunity to investigate the
point where science and art come together.

It is still not necessary to mix music and painting

together (although it can be assumed that one and the same

100

unknown root forms the basis for the intellectual acts of
seeing and hearing). Both arts are, by themselves, com-
pletely understandable and independent of one another.

If there is agreement on many issues (not only in the sense
of an arbitrary analogy but according to a secret indentity,
which is actually the case), it is a good omen for both
theories. Perhaps the nature of both arts could be
characterized in the following manner: the painter (the
sculptor and the architect also) brings "motion" in space
to rest while the musician recovers it anew from the
geometric quantities of the "intervals." (Music conquers
space and the visual arts conquer time, if one wants to

put it that way.) Through exact measurements of great
works of art in the fields of sculpture, architecture and
painting, it has been established beyond doubt that the
proportions of lines, curves, angles and colors, etc., very
often coincide with the vibrations ratios of equal-tempered
intervals.

In order to understand tone colors, a creative,
musical imagination is always necessary because, in the
person himself, "color-hearing" takes place in a strictly
spiritual manner. With colors, one can decide more easily:
for instance, this stone is violet or this one is red or
blue, etc. With timbres in music, it is not so easily
understood if one decides, for example, that the horn is

colored toward the fourth and that the trumpet is colored

101

toward the fifth. Simply to explain horns and trumpets,
etc., as tone colors, would be nothing other than re—
garding stone, metal and wood as colors. In music, of
course, a much broader approach to the essential nature of
"color" is an a priori necessity. However, what would "tone"
color be if it were not a chord: an interval? Would it,
perhaps, be noise-~the color "body" itself: the substance?
Doesn't the painter also have to grind the pigments down

as independent of the material as is possible and to be
able to apply blue, green and yellow, etc., in a uniform
fashion? Would he be a painter who would, more or less
skillfully, cover vacant walls with all the rubbish

(colored materials, etc.) imaginable? Is he a musician who,
in order to amuse a bored, spiritless public which hungers
only for the "sensational" (if even in the subtlest sense)
and in order to stimulate the "nerves" of this public,
allows different noises to whirl around pell-mell under

the quise of a "noble ideal"? Or is he a decorator?

Or is it possible that someone should really so com-
prehend the concept of "timbre-melody" that with each
pitch of a melody he introduces different noises (applied
to the field of painting, this means that with every
color there would be different substances such as stone,
plants, coal and metals etc.)? As the painter has his
analogous pigments, which are gathered from all possible

substances, so we, in a similar fashion, "pulverize" our

102

"tone-color body" in the temperament. We take out the
characteristic overtone interval (the quintessence of

its tone color) from the particular instrument. That is
to say, we separate the "color" from the "body“ as.far as
possible, disassociating it from everything non-essential
and thereby "immortalizing" it. Rather, we have been
anxious up to now, to equalize the differences between
noise and overtones even within the same instrument or to
exaggerate them (hence, the virtuosi of dexterity among
violinists, of register with singers and of intonation
with wind players, etc). Because of the peculiar (one
could say "diatonic") overtone vibrations owing to the
"cyclic" vibration ratios, this tempering can never be
"equal-tempered." As an example of this, we know that

an atonal melody played on the violin sounds (even if the
performer tempers it in the most exact manner) like an
out of tune diatonic melody. However, with tempered
instruments (piano, harmonium and organ), a pitch is
independent of the others (and from its intervallic re-
lationships)--each pitch, in reality, being an instrument
in its own right--and hence, only with tempered instru-
ments is it possible to equalize noise and overtones and,
thereby, push the "effect of the intervals" to the fore-
ground. It is precisely because of their purely sensuous
effect that noises of various kinds separate the "spirit"

from the "music."

103

According to this concept of "tone colors," which
secretly clings to noise (to the substance) and which con-
sistently subjugates the ear to the position of a mere
"organ of touch," we have, properly speaking, always had
"timbre melodies," particularly with poorly built and
poorly played instruments. From the "musical" standpoint,
however, timbre melodies are those in which the colors
are expressed through intervals and which move within the
"totality." Perhaps we are finally speaking of "tone-
color melodies," for atonal melody, as contrasted to the
diatonic melody, actually uses the entire color circle and
only then becomes, thereby, a "color" melody: i.e., a
melody with various colors. (With the help of Illustration
D, compare the intervals of the whole-tone scale beginning
on C with that of the C major scale. While the whole-tone
scale spreads out over the entire circle, the C major
scale moves only within half of the circle, thus reminding
one of "red-yellow." All other major and minor scales, as
well, occupy only half of the circle: for example, A
minor: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, A.)

Bach, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven have entrusted
their most intimate, most intellectually refined and most
musical works to the piano. If anyone were to believe
(concerning the truly great "polyphonic" works), however,
that individual voices are "distinguished" by various
noises (tone colors?), he should keep in mind the greatest

polyphonic work: the Well-Tempered Clavier.

 

104

From Goethe's theory of sound:

Perhaps we can't escape from this dilemma
once again through an artistic procedure.
A comparison of notes which always pro-
gress naturally with those of equal
temperament reveals that a decidedly ef-
fectual, higher order of music is, to the
defense of nature, really only possible
in the latter.

What is a string and all other mechanical

devices themselves when the ear of the
musician is considered?

CLOSING COMMENTS

 

We are discussing tone colors. One might well ask
how we came to this point. What does the expression tone-
color (color of tone) actually mean? Doesn't the creation
of this compound form the basis of the idea, so that the
sound (pitch) is something which assumes a color? By
what means is it colored? For example, noises, which are
never totally avoided and which lie in the physical condi-
tion of a particular instrument, arise when a pitch is
produced on this instrument. Besides, one does nOt need
to debate that these noises are not somewhat musical. In
spite of this, it must be said, once again, that the
coloration of a tone (pitch) by noise has no musical,
aesthetic significance. At best, it is a "tone-painted"
element in program music; but is this still music? The
remarkable thing is only that this self-evident issue is,
nowadays, not self evident to every musical person, and

that timbre is heard in nothing other than that noise.

105

In the final analysis, did tone color in general have no
musical, aesthetic meaning? It could be, then, that the
meaning involves something entirely different from that
noise produced by the instrument's material which vibrates
but does not actually resonate. Again, what characterizes
the sound of the instrument? The emergence of a particular
pitch of the overtone series: consequently, the interval.
Pitch receives its color (coloration) through the fact
that it is heard in relation to another pitch; hearing a
pitch musically means nothing other than hearing it in
this sense. Hearing a pitch in relation to another pitch
means audibly perceiving it as an organic member of a
melody (and a rhythm, since melos contains rhythm). That
and nothing else is "musical intuition."

The more a composer listens to his melodies on an
instrument having limited possibilities of tone color, the
more the nature of sound and timbre of this instrument
(which, of course, conceals a particular fixed but limited
number of melodic possibilities) approaches and, therefore,
aids his creative listening. He produces whatever music
and melody is contained in the nature of the instrument
and whatever can be created. However, the more a melody
is creatively listened to for its innermost being, i.e.,
gaining insight into the totality of the tone color (there-
fore, listening not for the nature of a particular instru-

ment), the more the musically productive element in the

106

creation is referred to entirely for itself alone, and the
more it is, so to speak, put to the test.

Atonal melody must be created entirely "on its own."
However, that says nothing about the fact that it can be
played only on equal-tempered instruments (piano and
harmonium) and that it would be somewhat of a particular
piano or harmonium melody in the way that one speaks of a
violin melody. However, there is no piano melody (or,
indeed, melodies) which is musically audible only on the
piano (harmonium). The piano has no timbre character (as
the horn does) precisely because it is a tempered instru-
ment: i.e., the totality of timbre. In order to be
receptive to a melody on the piano, one must listen musi-
cally (which, through the "development" of orchestral music,
was entirely forgotten in the course of the nineteenth
century). As atonal melody puts the creativity of com-
posers to the test, so it also tests the musical listening
of the auditors when it is played on the piano. Naturally,
no music can be received from an atonal melody by anyone
who has never had anything to do with musical intuition.
It should also be noted that there is only a slight dif-
ference between the creative and derivitive musical in-
tuition.6

The articles were, in part, written in collaboration with
Ferdinand Ebner.

 

6. This work is used "with the permission of the original
publisher: Robert Lienau, Berlin."

107

 

 

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109

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110

Characteristics of intervals.

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111

Characteristics of Intervals

Victory, pure, free, Olympian, chaste,
glorious and festive.

Solemn, outward-going, heavy, powerful,
formal and impressive.

Joy, triumphant, sensuous, alleqro, ef-
fervescent, high-spirited and frothy.

Growing, blossoming, evolving, the precious
one, the loved one, life and grace.

Ghostly, fairy-like, fluttering, hazy, the
spirits and the spell.

Doubt, despair, passion, struggle, erot-
icism, longing and discontentment.

Impure, constrained, Promethian, satanic,
volcanic, torment and servitude.

Leqqiére, inward looking, secluded, sensi-
tive, submissive and delicate.

Sorrow, melancholy, austere, andante,
smooth, long-suffering and plaintive.

Liberating, dominating, sacrificing, humil-
ity, the sea, death and pathos.

Rustic, coarse, dull, artless, rigid, the
mist and reality.

Rest, relaxation, shadows, the hunt,
shepherds, the forest and country life.

Chapter III

J O S E F M A T T I A S H A U E R

T H E O R E T I C A L W R I T I N G S

VOLUME I

F R O M M E L O S T O T H E K E T T L E D R U M

AN INTRODUCTION TO TWELVE-TONE MUSIC

Universal-Edition, A.G.

Vienna Nr. 8395 New York

112

113

FOREWORD

"People argue" whether or not there is such a thing
as atonal music.l Erudite minds speak of a "soulless"
music and characterize melos as "a purely mechanical pro-

duct" which represents "a contradictio in adjecto, an

 

absurdity, since it is impossible for the comprehending
mind not to hear a relationship between individual pitches".
They call atonal melody a "purely negative principle with
which no music can be created," etc. Briefly stated, in
their impotent frenzy and despair, these men write against
themselves and in contradiction to their own "works." From
a good musician, their "problems" elicit a sympathetic
smile at best. My friends are angered by these bloated,
mendacious "critics" and they've encouraged me to ward off
at least some of these tormentors once and for all through
a frank and lucid discussion. I'm convinced, of course,
that absolutely nothing is accomplished with words and that
those who are incapable of hearing a melody do not become
musical even through logical "reasoning." However, perhaps
there may still be a few unspoiled musicians left who are
able to penetrate my clumsy schoolmaster German in order to

reach that point where an interest in twelve-tone music

 

1. Hauer employs the often quoted phrase "Da streiten die
Leut' herum" which appears in the sinqspiel "Der Bauer
als Millionaire" composed by wenzel Mflller on a
libretto by Ferdinand Raimund.

 

114

could set in. In this spirit, I dare to talk about the
craft and about the potentialities thereof. At the begin-
ning of every paragraph I will pose those questions with
which my esteemed comtemporaries pester me over and over
again. I beg my readers (whom I esteem even more highly
than the aforementioned contemporaries) for at least the
grace and consideration (even while maligning me with
their scathing discussions, sarcastic remarks, malicious
distortions, false quotations, lifeless polemics and
condescending assessments) which every schoolmaster has
the right to claim, namely, that of not having to begin
over and over again from the very beginning when explaining
some particular aspect or, so to speak, of having to teach
the multiplication tables at the college level.2

Is there a purely_tonal music? This question can be

 

answered conclusively and quickly by any negro who has
ever played in a jazz band. He boxes, tramples and pum-
mels any "note" and therefore produces a genuine tonal
music. Children also carry on in this manner and since we
grownups are more or less childlike or childish, thumping
on a single note (the purely rhythmic aspect) often gives
us pleasure. We gratify our moods, affections, our ideas
and our personal rhythms as we teeter (similar to a sloth

on a branch) on a note (tonic) for a period of time. A

 

2. The construction of this sentence as Hauer wrote it in
German demonstrates the level of writing found in many
of his works which he called his "clumsy schoolmaster
German."

115

purely tonal music is a pleasure and an escape valve for
temperamental people. I can quite well imagine how a
modern composer somehow manages to assemble various noise
instruments (percussion) and allows them to be beaten in a
variety of complicated rhythms. Composing such a percus-
sion orgy is "child's play" but for the performers it
should occasionally be quite difficult so that they can
demonstrate their virtuosity. This, however, produces a
barbaric and wild effect upon the public. This sensuous
stimulation is to the framework of music as pepper and
paprika are to the art of cookery. If food is seasoned in
such a manner that it is not too noticeable and if the soup
is not oversalted, there can be no objection to it. Eat-
ing only paprika and pepper may not, naturally, please all
people. In music there are also those for whom the con-
stant drumming on a single note is either too diverse or
too "monotonous."3 Therefore, people long for a second
and a third note, for melody, for the melic.

What do you understand by the word "melody"? Since I
don't have a definition for the concept of "melody," I'm
in a real fix. Knut Hamsun speaks very ingeniously of the
melody in the flight of the vulture, of the melody in the
arrangement of the boughs and branches of a tree and of

the melody of a waterfall. In like manner we could also

 

3. Hauer makes a play on words here by employing the word
"eintonig" which could be construed to be either
monotonous or singled-pitched (monotoned).

116

inalk of the melody of the teetering sloth discussed above.
However, I can't approach my philosophically trained
reader with poetic matters. He, who can only hear a melody
or sing one in an approximate manner, knows that better
than I do. Indeed, the manifold arrangement and order of
various pitches does not constitute melody but is the pre-
requisite of the melic element in music. An ordinary
mortal with a healthy amount of horse sense does not refer
to even the most interesting drumming on a note as melody.
On the contrary, he calls such purely rhythmic noise just
unmelodic. Melody is a fortuitous blend of the rhythmic
with the melic. It takes at least two pitches, however,
to bring about the melic. It is often very interesting to
observe the manner in which melos develops in small chil-
dren. In the first stages, which are purely rhythmic,
they tap on objects and always sing one and the same note
to it. One day, however, it's different as the melic side
breaks through. The most beautiful memories of my life
are of the way my children began to sing melodies. It was
particularly striking with my oldest daughter. For a long
time she only sang on one note but all of a sudden she

came out with the first melody of her own creation:

11

g7.71.. a, 8.4.2.,L1Jw, 1.4.1.

 

 

117

A scholar explained to me later that the war-song or better
yet the battle cry of certain Indian tribes supposedly
sounds quite similar. We mortals standing on the high
plateau Of art music, however, know enough to speak of the
birth of the first melody (tonic--dominant--tonic) and
affirm the appearance of a particular fundamental with the
gradual unfurling of the individual overtones. The melic
in man grows quite naturally out of the note itself. With
my children, it went quite quickly once they were fortunate
enough to find the first notes of the overtone series.
Melic development in man is the crucial factor which decid-
es the level or height of his musicality. In their melic
development, most people scarcely rise above the physio-
logical stage of animals. The unfortunate thing about this
is that it is just such noise fanatics who, as it happens,
become composers, thereby displaying their unfortunate love
of music, so to speak. The twelve notes of the closed
circle of fifths and fourths of equal temperament repre-
sent the extreme limits of pure melic listening. The
479,001,600 combinations of these twelve notes contain an
immense profusion of magnificent melodies and sounds as
well as musically logical harmonic and polyphonic possi-
bilities. All these can come about, however, only if a
musician hears them, if he breathes life into them, if he
shapes them musically and if he can interpret them. For

the "circus horse" with his mere feeling for the drumming

118

nojLse as well as for the "dancing bear," these combinations
an<fl permutations, these arithmetical possibilities, these
constructions always and forever remain a scheme, a pat-
tern, something negative, something disjointed, a random
and.arbitrary series of notes--a "nothing." In the human
'womld this applies to unmelic people and to those who are
only half developed melically.

Is there a purely atonal music? Just as we found the
purely tonal, the purely rhythmic pole of music above, we
can use the same logic and also find the opposite, which
is the purely atonal, the purely melic pole of music. We
call melos the musical event and activity--the tension
existing between notes of various pitch. Mind you, the
event and activity and the tension which take place in
us. Melos is a musical process in musical people which is
totally intellectual. The various notes are only the
physical and physiological prerequisite to this experience.
The notes are earth-bound, "clay,"4 the material. In
order to be able to reach this pure melic experience in
music, we must obviously exclude, as far as possible, the
opposite pole, i.e., the purely rhythmic noise factor.
Notes of varying emphasis and length, which originate from
different noises and, what is more, which are perhaps not

equally apportioned within the octave (this, the strongest

 

4. Hauer works in another play on words at this point by
using the word ton with quotation marks. In this con-

text the word could be construed as clay or as pitch or
note. 9

119

pillar in the listening process) and the circle of fifths
and fourths, are not well-tempered. Given such conditions,
the pure melic tension, the balance, the pure melic experi-
ence in the listener will naturally occur only with diffi-
culty if at all. "A"-tonal music is also an "a"-rhythmic
music and, strictly speaking, we may talk neither of a
purely tonal nor of a purely atonal music but only of the
two poles of music. If there was a pole concerned only
with rhythm, the other pole would concern itself only with
melos. Were there to be one for spices alone--only for
sensuous appeal--the other pole would be for food without
spice--without stimulus. At neither of these two poles
are we able to exist permanently! To which segment of
civilized society would it occur to drum perpetually on
one note? On the other hand, to which warm-blooded musi-
cian would it occur to always use the twelve well-tempered
pitches equally without any stress, playing or singing
each with the same length and loudness and thereby making
it atonal? No one remains forever in the frozen waste of
these two poles. However-~and now we come to that which
my adversaries refuse to realize--a lengthy sojourn in
this rarified atmosphere, in this "mountain sun" brings
about a clean and purified condition. In particular, the
time spent at the melic pole of music is a discipline, a
bolstering of musical purity. A musician who addresses

himself for a period of time to the singing of one-line

120

melodies employing the twelve well-tempered tones comes a
long way from the banal and trivial and from false senti-
mentality. He escapes these perils forever no matter how
much gratification he finds in the personal, rhythmic,
conceptual, in tonality and in harmony and polyphony.

Why do you call your music atonal? In my compositions

 

I proceed from the atonal, melic pole of music and, in the
course of my work, move toward the tonal, rhythmic pole.
Seen realistically, my music stands in the middle between
the two poles for it can be spoken of neither as purely
atonal nor as purely tonal. However, since I proceed from
the atonal, purely melic experience of the twelve tones
(only touching upon the other hemisphere, so to speak), I
rightly call my music an atonal, melic music.

Where does imagination enter inyyour works? I have
sung twelve-tone melodies from the time of my youth but not
until later did I realize that all or almost all pitches of
the circle were always contained in these melodies. My
melic development was far advanced even in my early years.
This "madness," however, was buried through training and
instruction. Only later did the melodies, which were well
cultivated and tended in my inner being, finally break
through, and since then "it" sings constantly inside me.

In order that other people could also take part in this, it
was a case of finding a good or indeed the best conceivable

form for my obvious musical experiences. Form is the

121

courtesy of the artist vis-a-vis the public. He strives
all his life for form and for craft and, in this regard, I
have certainly not made it easy on myself.

How do_you actually begin your compgsitions? A melic

 

motive or a melic figure was and still is the point of
departure for my works. It should be noted, however, that
the melic motive or figure is not to be confused with a

theme or leitmotiv. At its simplest, it could even be said

 

that it is an incipient melody but even this is not correct
for not only melodies but also harmony and polyphony ema-
nate from melic motives. The best I can do is to demon-
strate this through an isolated illustration which, however,
by no means exhausts all possibilities. This spring I was
once again touched by the charm of the Austrian landscape.
I was at Traunsee at Easter and for once it didn't rain
even on the nice days. Traunstein, the lake and the fields
all conspired against the "absolute" musician. I thought
to myself at the time that if I were to find the correct
melic figure or the appropriate "trope," the composing of

a romantic fantasy for orchestra (without program!) would
be a thing of pure musical craft. As it turned out, I
found it soon after and in eighteen days Opus 37 was down
on paper. Here, however, I must insert something which
will perhaps puzzle many people. Some time ago I classi-
fied and organized the melic possibilities of the twelve
tones into forty-four tropes and, through many years

practice, I know my way about these phrases as well as

122

others find their way easily among keys and modulations.
.Actually, it is virtually the same only incomparably more
complicated. More important, however, I've gotten to
know the pitch content of these patterns better over a
period of time. This proved useful to me in the con-
struction of a work. Previously, composers had to decide
upon primary and secondary keys, but today that has been
refined by the tropes. The study of composition in
twelve-tone music is very similar to that in harmony and
counterpoint, the difference being only in the greater
number of possibilities and in the more subtle ramifica-
tions. The entire technique of composition in dodeca-
phonic music adheres to the doctrine of the tropes which
demands intensive study.

Is your musical system completed yet and can it be
learned through study of the rules? An individual musician
cannot fully exhaust the twelve-tone system. Several com-
posers and several centuries would be necessary for that.
Certainly, however, certain things which until now were
accomplished empirically, can be learned through rules
(not in a week or a month, naturally) and, on this base--on
this solid foundation--it most certainly can be further
developed both logically and correctly. The learning of
the tropes and of the diversity of melic patterns is, as
with harmony and counterpoint, linked to the personal

diligence of the individual and to his powers of perception.

123

The path to learning the tropes is through working out
many, many examples. In the following I want to explain

the system by means of my table of tropes (see below).

 

Each of the 479,001,600 melos rows is divided by a bar line
into two halves each of which contains six notes. The

notes of one half remain together and maintain a positive
intervallic relationship with the notes of the other half.
From this point of view, if we put into groups those melos
rows whose intervallic relationships are the same, we get
forty-four such possibilities: therefore, forty-four tropes.
As an example, let's take the first trope whose character-
istic shape ("trope-image") is the chromatic scale. Right

at the outset, I want to point out that transpositions of

124

the scale to the twelve pitches5 have no vital significance
for the melic elements and, therefore, for the intervallic
relationships. Were we ever to show the transpositions, we
would have to take into account the 12 x 479,001,600 per-
mutations. In my table of tropes, "A" is the lowest and
G-sharp the highest pitch. We should bear in mind just
how the notes are arranged in the trope image (the left
half from A upwards to D, the right from D-sharp upwards

to G-sharp, both halves, therefore, occupying the space of
two adjacent fourths which together comprise a major sev-
enth). Through permutations in each half, 720 x 720 or
518,400 combinations arise, of which one appears below as

an example:6

 

 

 

 

5. Hauer would have been more precise had he said, "to
the other eleven pitches."

6. The example given at this point is taken from the first
eight measures of "Halfte des Lebens," the second song
of Halderlin-Lieder which is Hauer' 5 Opus 21 dated
1922 The words (M Mit qelben Blumen hanget und voll mit
wilden Rosen) are given with the bass line of the piano
accompaniment.

 

125

Now, however, we have to account for twelve versions
or twelve modes? which can be done by placing the lowest

note as the highest eleven times.8 For example:

 

Each of the twelve modes has 518,400 possibilities
which together make 6,220,800. Something else to be taken
into consideration is the fact that, in most tropes, the
two halves can be reversed so that the first will exchange
with the second and, in return, the second will exchange
with the first. By this means, other combinations will
arise and the number of possibilities within a trope will
double from 6,220,800 to 12,441,600. Only in a few tropes
will the same intervallic relationships emerge as a result

of the exchange of the two halves. Because of this

 

7. An exact translation at this point is difficult be-
cause the word Hauer uses is tonqeschlechter which is
a compound word contrived by Hauer for his own purposes
and not seen in other writings. The closest transla-
tion would be the word "mode."

8. Since Hauer does not seem to recognize the octave
equivalency of notes, he shows that he has a conception
of twelve-tone music different from that of Schbnberg
who admitted such equivalency as a basic tenet of his
system.

126

sameness, we call them identical.9 This occurs in eight
‘tropes altogether: numbers 1, 8, l7, 19, 24, 34, 41 and
44. Finally, it still must be pointed out that through
the inversions in the twelve modes, twelve different melos
groups also arise in moSt tropes. An exception is found
in only a few. The eighth trope has only six modes with
dissimilar groups, trope thirty-four has only four dis-
similar mode-groups, trope forty-four has only two while
the two exchanges (of the halves) of trope thirty-eight
each have six dissimilar modes. I've said everything here
that is absolutely essential for an introduction to the
twelve-tone system. With careful consideration of all the
characteristics of the tropes, a person of average mathe-
matical ability can now easily prove whether 479,001,600
melic possibilities do in fact exist. I even want to
help by revealing to him that in twelve-tone music there
are eighty different hexads and nine hundred twenty-four
modes. As was said already, nothing is gained through the
knowledge of these numbers but, at most, a certain se-
curity. The musical, subjective working-out of examples
is important in order to be able to utilize the tropes
properly (as previously with modulations). The musical

imagination must be at work in conjuction with the system

 

9. Hauer again demonstrates his linguistic inventiveness
by employing another compound word (wiedergleich) of
his own making. The seemingly most appropriate word
to be used in this instance is the word "identical."

127

(just as was done previously with the seven notes) so that
what emerges is a proper, respectable music which is well
constructed.

What are the important elements of your methods of
wqgk? Once I have decided on a trope, i.e., on a category,
I proceed like the old contrapuntists with their variations,
imitations, canons, weaving of lines, dividing-up of mate-
rial, pitch displacements, control of the texture, inver-
sions, augmentations, diminutions, and strettos--in brief,
with all means and possibilities which have been used since
time immemorial. To be sure, all these geometric and con-
structivistic devices have no meaning in the genuine musi-
cal life of people. These details are totally immaterial
to the layman who listens to music. For him, it is gener-

10 However, employing great

ally a matter of the "Musi."
variety, the composer must adhere to a crystalline form
having certain similar, connective and repetitive ideas
for it is directly through this means that he facilitates
the listening of his music. In the Romantic Fantasy, I
had to provide a broadly conceived base which would cor-

respond to its length (it's written in one movement). The

basic melic idea emanates from the twenty-fourth trope

 

10. The word Musi is impossible to translate since it is
a Viennese dialectical expression for music. This
could be equated with the spelling "toon" for tune in
English.

128

(look at the table of tropes) and goes into five other
tropes through exchanges of various kinds whereby the

following outline comes about:

 

The inversions of each one of these twenty-four
situations must still be added to these possibilities.
The result is a total of 24 x 12 or 288 "building blocks"
which are closely related to one another and which are
deployed in such a manner that they balance each other.
The listener repays me for the care I might spend on es-
tablishing balance for, just by taking such care, the
"listening" is made considerably easier. Now the real
work begins: the assessing and "assaying" of the building
blocks and, hand in hand with that, the assembling, the
"composing." In the outline, I have merely drawn the

borderlines within which I can compose to my heart's

129

content. A musician will not find it difficult to feel

the main melodic line or the cadential, harmonic, and poly—
phonic inflections. The order of the building blocks in
the outline, naturally, has no bearing on the composing
itself.

In explaining the buildinq blocks, have you implied
certain rules? I don't know if the word "rules" can be
applied to that which I now want to demonstrate. In any
case, however, there are certain peculiarities in every
building block——in every trope—-which are rooted in the
statical and which cannot be ignored with impunity. In
the following, I can, naturally, show only a few examples,
all of which I have again drawn from my Opus 37. As has
already been said above, I have sung unaccompanied twelve-
tone melodies for a long time, thereby making music in an
almost purely atonal manner. The first step toward "im-
provement" was taken when I added a homophonic accompani-
ment to the melody. For me, the ear was thereby made the
one and only authority. I have become so fond of this
primitive or "nee-primitive" style of writing that I still
readily use it today although by now I've learned (through
it--directly through this style) completely different

things.

 

130

Following in the wake of this is another technique:
that of sustaining the individual pitches of the melody.
The first step toward polyphony was made in this way. For
my wretched "concept" of music, this type of writing still
holds its appeal. I even think that the syncopations and

the working out of the voices borders ever so slightly on

. art.

 

I am not only a "neo-primitive" but also an "old-
fashioned" person who loves melismas, ornamentation, pat-
terns, runs and passage work and (Oh horrors!) even fancies
the things of nature (a rainshower, a bird singing . . .),
naturally, always within the framework of the musical. It
will not be difficult for the gentle reader who has a real
interest in the subject to make the connection between the
particular scenes and the building blocks of the outline.
In purely musical forms which are constructed as tightly as
fugues, it is hoped that musicians may still be allowed to

verbalize and even "program" a little bit here and there.

 

131

With twelve-tone passages even the basses need not be

short-changed.

 

I still haven't given up making music with one-line
melodies. In the following example, a melody (may I indeed
say melody?) in the bass is taken over by the woodwinds and
played in four parts with the piano sounding like a "rip-
pling celesta." The sequence symbolizes an "echo," a
"primordial" phenomenon of nature or, if we want to remain

strictly musical, the singing of a “one-voice fugue."

 

In spite of that, however, the "echo" (musically
speaking, the canon-—twelve-toned) can also be employed
for establishing a substantial transition to a new scene.
Generally speaking, polyphony of the "learned," "compli—
cated" variety is very well suited for climactic points

and the like.

132

 

In the last example, the twelve-tone units (the static
elements) are indicated by brackets above the music. As
you know, the static quality is the secret of "listening,"
not the physical but the intellectual, musical kind of
listening. I emphasize that only so that the reactionary
contrapuntists won't believe that one could set twelve-tone
architecture aside simply for the sake of the old rules.
The twelve-tone law (believe you me, it's not without good
reason that I call it this) must always be adhered to in

one way or another! I've constructed works with building

133

blocks which are divided into twelve groups of five or
seven or eleven (5 x 12, 7 x 12 or 11 x 12) but always so
that the cycle is completed. They sound excellent. Any-
way, I take the old rules of counterpoint into considera-
tipn as far as is possible under the given conditions for
I have satisfied myself that our polyphonic listening is

indeed no longer geared to Palestrina but rather to Bach.

 

The principle of equilibrium has to be honored even
in purely harmonic passages. The example above is the
beginning of the Romantic Fantasy which is drawn from the
twenty-fourth trope. The entire building block consists
of two hexads which are repeated with short figurations
in the upper part. In these figurations, however, yet a
seventh note presents itself (E on the one side and A-
sharp on the other) which naturally must be used jointly
by the opposing sides. If the laws of equilibrium are not
observed, even a neophyte notices it because he is in some
way disturbed. The critics, however, always want to cor-
rect the melos and rave on about sequences because they
still don't realize that identical tropes exist. Even if

there was nothing else in the world but the twelve

134

well-tempered11 pitches, we would have to believe in the
wise Creator who built the world according to a master
plan. And if there is something that at least gives an
inkling of this plan, it is the melos of these twelve
tones. When a composer constantly and stubbornly violates
the laws of equilibrium he is, as it were, just banging
his head obstinately against a brick wall. The wall won't
give but his head will. If an architect doesn't observe
these laws, his building will collapse and bury people.

In music, the danger (at least at the time) is not so
great but in the long run its effect is really much greater.
That so and so many modern composers don't become insane or
haven't already become insane is only attributable to the
fact that they are just plain unmusical (that is to say,
melically undeveloped). Knowing the laws of stability, one
can clearly see that, in the case of the architect, it's
simply a question of people's lives! Musicians, on the
other hand, arrange composer's symposia with nothing but
"collapsing houses" and behold--not even the composers go
mad as a result of it! That's a poor indication of their
musicality, particularly if one knows how they operate and
how far they will go in their noisemaking. A university

professor demonstrates my music to his students by simply

 

11. It should be noted here that Hauer uses the words
"well-tempered" and "equal-tempered" almost synony-
mously: (wohltemperiert and gleichschwebend).

 

 

135

sitting down at the keyboard and declaring, "That's what
Hauer-type music is all about." If the man only had an
idea, only the slightest idea of how right, how totally
right he was! But let him blame this on our Lord and

leave me out of it! Did I invent the twelve well-tempered
pitches? Do I force so many thousands to compose with
twelve tones? Yes, it's very easy for a university pro-
fessor to stand before his captive audience and make a

joke which is in poor taste and which has been told for
ages! This would be plausible to me if such a man had done
some truly scholarly work. He could plunge into the tropes,
into the melopoie and relieve us "idiots" of work which,
according to his view, we don't understand anyway. Then we
could pursue our profession, our difficult profession for
which, unrecognized and without any recompense, we must
bleed to death simply because we want to be human. The
melos of the twelve tones can only be dangerous for musical
people who are melically fully developed. For an ignoramus
it is really totally irrelevant whether he sits down at the
keyboard or in some way thumps on an instrument in a blind
fury. In contrast to the university professor, there also
are people (God be praised!) who call twelve-tone music
beautiful and who then amend that and say, "it's not only
exceedingly beautiful but pure, chaste and sacred in addi-
tion." For these utterances I could go on and state the

names of authorities--authorities from well-established,

136

world renowned universities. I am a person who highly re—
gards a learned man whether that man be a medical doctor,

a teacher, a judge, a priest--give everyone his due! I
wouldn't presume to interfere in scholarly matters. If

the field of scholarship would take twelve-tone music (not
mine but twelve-tone music in general) seriously for once,
I would immediately shut my mouth and converse only in
notes. For the time being, however, I am compelled to
preserve a universal treasure, a treasure for better times.
That's a difficult job for a person with my poor education.
Actually, I'm waiting for a scholarly trained successor.

In the meantime, however, scholars still confuse my hal-
lowed cause with my acerbic personality. Despicably and
contemptuously, they call me a fanatic and a visionary.

Do you want to eliminate entirely from music the
rhythmically sharp-profiled effect in favor of the static?
The statical, the possibilities for balance in the twelve
tones are so enormous and so immense and diverse that we
mortals, together with our "emotional states" and "demons,"
all find room therein. There is always an answer for him
who still has his five senses about him and who does not
want to stay outside the world (in an insane asylum). Of
course, our modern public demands of composers that they
<:ommit "hari-kiri" in every work, but the real artists are
ashrewd enough only to pretend in front of the "tender-

luearted" snobs and afterward go and enjoy a congenial game

137
of skat.12 The drumming and wobbling on a note, the
thumping and boxing is a cheap but healthy amusement.
Naturally, even within the confines of the twelve tones,
one can (without disturbing their equilibrium) do this to
the extent that what is heard is nothing more than a wild
noise-~no music, no melos. One can do it without suffering
knocked—out teeth and eyes: i.e., without injury. For the
following example I have extracted a passage from my
Romantic Fantasy which strongly emphasizes the rhythmic
element. Its melic stability emanates from the subsequent
three chords marked pp which bring back the melic content

as an "echo."

 

As said already, the wobbling, drumming, trilling and
arpeggiating on or with a few notes is an amusement fit for
a king. It arouses "feelings" in us although it may not be
"cheap." The following example shows how a passage
of such a nature can be held in balance; in "contenance."
The cello (the instrument of the romantics) plays a twelve—

tone melody and the basses hold the lowest notes. The

 

12. This is an obvious reference to Richard Strauss.

138

setting of proper basses in twelve-tone music is much more
difficult than it was previously with seven notes. The
setting of artificial basses, on the other hand, however,
has become child's play. At the present time, our public
is still naive enough to consider the setting of artificial
basses as a "joke." Above all this, flutes, clarinets and
piano trill with four and eight-note sonorities respective-
ly. The entire trilling incident takes place in conjunc-
tion with the cello melody so that, in the interplay, the
first and second four—note chord c0mes in the second half.
Every building block has its "medial line" from which for—
ward and reverse are "carefully judges." This is similar
in nature to the venerable and familiar practice of having
a beginning and ending [i.e., two stollen and an abqesanq]
of a song or of inhaling and exhaling. Each building
block, therefore, is a small, self-contained piece of music,

a Cell within an organ with the body being built from organs.

 

139

Why do ypu really write for orchestra when youyyour-

 

self say that genuine atonal music can be played only on an

 

atonal, well-tempered instrument? I explained above that a

 

pure atonal music does not exist because it would be mono-
phonic and devoid of rhythm and that both rhythm and melos
belong to a real melody. In the course of the develop-
mental process, harmony and polyphony once more emerge by
themselves from rhythm and melos. In spite of this, however,
I am all in favor of having the temperament and intonation
of the orchestra adjusted as well as possible. No separa-
tion of or differentiation between f-sharp and g-flat in
the strings! The proper valve for the brasses! The wood-
wind instruments are well-nigh equal-tempered without any
adjustment. Our musicians learned a long time ago to play
with twelve tones if they were forced to do so. In addi-
tion, the instruments could still be improved. The instru-
mentation of twelve-tone music is not difficult; it only
requires practice and some thought. The ear, the ear and
again the ear is the best teacher. As is well known,‘
there are also timpani, drums and percussion instruments

of indefinite pitch in the orchestra. I've gone as far as
to use the timpani because they are capable of being tuned.
I employ them very sparingly but, in spite of this, I don't

treat them shabbily.

Vienna: July 1925.

Chapter IV

J O S E F M A T T I A S H A U E R

T H E O R E T I C A L W R I T I N G S

DEDICATED TO HERMANN HEISS

VOLUME II

T W E L V E - T O N E T E C H N I Q U E

THE THEORY OF THE TROPES

140

141

PREFACE

This book presupposes knowledge of Volume I (Vom

Melos zur Pauke) of this series of my theoretical writ-

 

ings without being a continuation of that volume.

This work is not written for the musicologist, nor
for the performing musician, nor even for the amateur, but
primarily for the composer of twelve-tone music. No
"rules" and "conventions" have been propounded here; I
have written down only laws which I have found in my own
work and which need to be adhered to, it seems to me, as
an absolute necessity by any twelve-tone composer.

My task in this book, as I see it, it not to show the
tonal application of the twelve tones, the realization of
bass lines and the like (in the sense of a textbook on
harmony), but to give a practical introduction to the archi-
tectonics of "twelve-tone construction." There are many
musical examples in the book which, in a practical manner,
explain the most important aspects of the written portion.
The study of these examples will make greater amplification
of the accompanying explanations unnecessary and therefore

the book has been kept to a concise form.

JOMOH.

142

For the thorough study of composition in twelve-tone
music, a notation is necessary in which the twelve notes
are arranged in concise, discernable, even intervals so
that one can read the melodic movement with speed and
accuracy. The notes of the twelve tones must, therefore,

be arranged in the following manner:

 

The system of lines which makes this arrangement pos-
sible is, in and for itself, of slight importance but it
obviously allows one to relate to obvious and commonly
known things: namely, to the arrangement of the keyboard

of the piano through which the twelve notes are easily

The notes on the lines designate the pitches of the

comprehended.

black keys and the notes in the intervening spaces desig-
nate those of the white keys. Octaves are differentiated
by clef signs and by octave signs in the case of very
high or very low notes. The treble clef designates the

one-line G-sharp or A-flat, the alto clef designates the

143

one—line D and the bass clef designates the small G-sharp
or A-flat. Otherwise, everything remains as in the old

system.

 

This twelve-tone notation is a shorthand manner of
writing which substantially facilitates'the mastery of the
twelve-tone technique. For the formulation of the twelve-
tone buildingblocks, it is simply indispensable. Obviously,
it could be employed for all instruments and for full
scores and the like, but reading and writing in the old
seven-note notation can also be simplified by observing
the following rule: accidentals are valid only for those
notes which they precede, even within the barline.

Twelve-tone notation has proved to be of the greatest
service to me in the discovery of the tropes. The sur-

, veying of the 479,001,600 possibilities of melodic shape
would not otherwise have been possible for me. In the
twelve—tone notation, however, it is easy to acquire an
accurate comprehension of different intervallic relation-
ships because they are made visible. The patterns can be
comprehended at a glance and the result, therefore, is a

quick and assured working process.

144

In the twelve appended tables, I have written out
the tropes in all twelve transpositions and these comprise
all the conceivable possibilities of melos. Consequently,
any twelve-tone melody whatever can be reduced to one of

the prescribed tropes.

T’ I *1: A

11 I L

 

I l 11 ' TIjY
L1L 7'71 T

8.5: 4.8. w, m, 848.434.5144, 8.80.5, .....

The foregoing melody1 is sketched out below in
twelve-tone notation and followed by the trope-image. It
can be seen that in the first half of the trope the two
fourths2 move in half steps which stand in fixed inter-
vallic relationship to the diminished fifth, D to A-flat,
while in the other half two minor thirds move in half steps
which again stand in fixed intervallic relationship to the
major second, d-flat to e-flat. The reciprocal position of

the intervals of the two halves is also of significance.

 

 

l. The example is drawn from the first six measures of the
second song ("Ihre Genesung") of the Halderlin-Lieder,
Vol. 4, Op. 40 dated 1925. It was prifited by Universal
Edition in 1928.

2. Hauer is in error on this point for the example clearly
shows that two fifths (F-C and E-B) and not two fourths
are involved.

145

We do not have to look very long before finding (in
Table IV) the thirty-first trope in which not only the
intervallic relationships but also the positions of the
notes are the same as they are above. Therefore, we say
that this melody is in the thirty-first trope (just as one
used to say that a melody was in a certain key).

Only through the study of the tropes is the value of
their melodic and harmonic pecularities revealed, and it is
precisely these pecularities which have such a decisive
meaning in twelve-tone technique. The point is not to
commit the forty-four tropes and their numbers to memory,
but to have the trope-image so well imprinted on the mind
that it is quickly and positively recognized in any case of
melos whatever. In this way it can be worked with in a
free and systematic manner.

In the following example I have written out the above-
cited melody twice (one after another) and revealed its
"phases" through regrouping the notes. Underneath, I have
written the trope-images belonging to the phases which can
be located in the tables. The sixth phase of the melody
is again found in the thirty-first trope from which we
began. It is obvious that this entire twelve-tone melody
moves within six tropes. I must expand upon what has been
said by stating that this melody is in the thirty-first
trope with which (in this case) the fortieth, second,

fifth, fifteenth and thirty-fifth tropes are melically

146

integrated. With certain melic constellations, it can
happen that two and more phases remain in the same trope.
Each twelve-tone melody, however, moves (with its phases)
within six tropes at the most. The relationships (tropes),
naturally, remain the same if the melody is sung in retro-
grade (from the end to the beginning) and, obviously, also
if it is transposed to the twelve pitches and is employed

with all inversions (modes).

 

From these immutable facts I have cited, certain
"rules of thumb" may be deduced for the composer giving
him craftmanship which will enable him to work easily and
freely so that he can turn his individual attention to the.
purely musical: i.e., to the music. No "rules" or "conven-
tions" will be advanced here. I, who in all my life have
railed against prejudice and narrow-mindedness and have had
to suffer grievously because of it, will certainly not slip
into the mistake of concocting inhibitive regulations which
later could serve as an excuse for shop-talk. For genuine
and real laws, however, I myself have always had the great-

est respect.

147

In music, there are two important laws which I want
to explain allegorically by discussing the principles of
bridge construction. A construction engineer has to deal
mainly with two "forces": with the specific gravity of the
material on the one hand and with its tensile strength and
atomic structure on the other. The infinite possibilities
of the interrelationship of these two forces condition the
method of construction. With stone bridges, for example,
he must give mOre consideration to the specific gravity; he
must sink numerous strong pylons because he can count on
only relatively short arches in the span. However, if he
uses concrete or even steel in his construction, he can
attain immense stretching and bracing power for which sup-
port he requires few and often only slender piers. This is
just as it is in music where we find the principle of spe-
cific gravity in the pitch with its overtone series: i.e.,
in the law of the overtones. The principle of spans and
braces, however, we find in the integrated circle of the
twelve tones: i.e., in the twelve-tone law. Both laws must
always and under all circumstances be respected, even if in
an infinite number of variations. Both "forces" impinge
upon each other and mutually maintain themselves in a state
of equilibrium. Practically speaking, if a composer inter-
feres with the "steel" struts of the twelve tones and,
thereby, their balance so that he "weights" a single note

(that is to say, he accentuates the rhythmic aspect, thus

148

"loading it down" by emphasizing it, etc.), he immediately
comes under the overtone law. In so doing he must become
tonal and he must embrace the law of gravity and set a
strong supporting pillar in place: i.e., a fundamental or
a suitable bass which will support the "weight." In such

a situation, my compositions always contain basses in
fifths, the lowest note of which is strengthened by octaves
just as in the pattern of the overtone series. However,

if the arches and supports of the twelve tones are balanced
to the greatest degree as in a steel structure conforming
to the twelve-tone law (hence atonal), single tones may not
be emphasized!

With that, I have come to the focal point of my com-
ments. My task does not consist in showing the tonal ap-
plication of the twelve tones, the setting of basses and
the like. That has been done exhaustively or well-nigh
exhaustively by others before me. I refer to the many
textbooks on harmony in which all conceivable cases of the
"vertical," i.e., of the bridges of stone-construction, are
taken into account. My task consists of much more: giving
a practical introduction to the horizontal supports of the
twelve tones--to the "bridges of steel construction." I
am forced to write a new theory of conterpoint. The old
theory of counterpoint is, through my practical instructions
on the twelve-tone technique, by no means overturned or

abandoned but prevails in my system in a stricter and more

149

refined form. My instructions shall show how one can
freely and easily handle counterpoint in the twelve-tone
system.

I have discovered two "rules of thumb" with which the
goal can be quickly realized and which also contain every-
thing that is important to the practice. I call them the
canon technique and the ostinato technique. Before I go
into this matter itself, I want to point out a few general
aspects of the structural-melodic voice leading to which I
subscribe. 1

My chief principle in counterpoint is, naturally, note
against note--hence, movement by contrary motion. I avoid
parallels wherever possible. If I must employ parallels,

I favor parallels in thirds and sixths though also parallel
diminished fifths (i.e. augmented fourths) which sound
lovely in twelve-tone music. Hidden parallels, which would
be terrible in twelve-tone music, I have not yet found.

The octave is entirely eliminated as a means of construc-
tion, that is to say, in a purely polyphonic texture the
perfect octave or the perfect prime may never be reached

by leaps. That arises entirely by itself from the twelve-
tone law and from the "law of stresses" of individual
pitches. In the case of a mixed style and at cadences

(see below), it is somewhat different. There it can be
admitted. However, we do stick strongly to the buttressing
technique of the twelve tones. In spite of this, however,

it is possible to double or to triple all voices in octaves.

150

That really has nothing to do with voice leading, per
se.
In connection with leaps of intervals in the same

direction, I rely on the following:

 

Harmless, once again, are thirds, sixths and dimin-
ished fifths (i.e. augmented fourths); if there is no
other possibility, I leap into perfect fifths and fourths
from the same direction. I also avoid leaping into major
Seconds and minor sevenths from the same direction as long
as possible. If it by all means must be, I move at least
one voice by half-step. This is also a good remedy for

fifths and fourths.

 

In principle, I reject leaps into minor seconds and
major sevenths in the same direction (only in a strictly
polyphonic texture, naturally).

Now to contrary motion, to the real counterpoint. In
true contrary motion, every interval (with the exception of
the perfect octave and prime) and every conceivable chord
can be approached by leap. Cross relations don't exist

for twelve-tone music since there no longer is a leading-tone

151

tendency. Furthermore, all chords are equal in status

and need not be treated cautiously in any way (as was the
case, for example, with the six-four chord). Also, we no
longer differentiate between simple and double counter—
point, etc. Leaping into intervals, therefore, has become
easy but leaving them is not so easy. In leaving chords con-
taining no minor seconds and no major sevenths, one can
move each voice wherever one wants. With chords which
contain minor seconds and major sevenths, however, I
observe the old rules concerning those notes which form
these intervals. These old rules are clearly shown in the

following illustration:

 

The notes of the minor second and the major seventh
"grate" together so strongly that the ear can be pacified
only through the melodic progressions demonstrated above.

Combinations of these progresssions are also possible

152

without the ear losing the melodic thread. For example:

 

In purely polyphonic twelve-tone music in three-voice
texture, a close can be made either with a major or a minor
triad which, however, must somehow result from the trope
construction. In four-voice texture, a close can likewise
be made with a major or minor triad (through falling into
an octave in contrary motion) or with one of the two major
seventh chords in major or minor. In twelve-tone music,
these are entirely satisfactory when used as closing

chords“

 

With program music (the tone poem and tone painting)
cadences are dependent upon principles other than the
purely musical and for that reason they often turn out
differently.

With syncopations, I generally rely upon the principle
that the note which is tied over the barline into a new
measure shall nOt last longer than that found before the
barline. In particular, however, the following examples

demonstrate how I handle such situations.

153

Canonic technique arises directly out of the tropes,
that is to say, from the twelve-tone complexes; what
comes first is not a theme or a motive but (to be exact)
the trope. He who learns to master canonic technique
through exercise and practice will soon find out that, in
so doing, the motivic and thematic elements are by no
means neglected, that they reveal themselves during the
working process and, that with increased expertise, one
can plan to work out certain of the motivic and thematic
characteristics. A general principle concerning the
juxtaposition of the tropes must still be mentioned:
identical pitches should be separated from one another as
far as possible. That is to say, if a building block, for
example, closes with the notes D, F-sharp, A and B, the
next phrase should not begin with these notes. This,
'however, is valid only in general; in particular, excep-

tions do exist.

1Y8: ‘ m1»

 

In the foregoing manner I have notated two three-
voice canons which are joined together in the thirty-first
and fortieth tropes. The sketch, written in twelve-tone
notation, also serves to demonstrate to the fullest
measure the advantage of the twelve-tone notation as an

extremely clear "stenography." A transcription into the

154

old seven-note script follows:

 

In this technique, the stretching and bracing (the
balance, the Stratic quality) of the twelve notes are dis-
tributed and balanced in the most refined manner. The
complexes as well as the structural melodies are in twelve-
tone. The tropes, from which the melodies are derived,
can be located in the tables. It is very important for
the "builder of music" to know always where he is going in

these marvelous possibilities.

 

 

 

The example shown above is in the same format, only

in four—voices. Here again is a transcription.

5% i. s! a!

        

 

155

 

The following canon is drawn from a triple division

of the thirty-first trope:

 

 

 

The following four-voice canon could also be built

with the same melic configuration.

 

 

 

156

:1 £4-

 

In the preceding, I have shown how one is able to
divide a melody into its phases and, as has been proven,
that at the very most, six tropes come into question.
Therefore, it is immaterial whether the melody is sung from
beginning to end or the reverse (retrograde). The re-
arrangement of the two halves of the trope and the trans-
position to other pitch levels changes nothing. With the
following (second) canon technique, we shall no longer
proceed from the tropes alone but from a melic cell within
a trope which, in this manner, can be displayed in a mul-

titude of ways.

 

 

 

 

This technique is also differentiated from the fore-

going in that the placement of each new pitch is assigned

157

a unit of time by itself (no two pitches being struck
simultaneously). Syncopations, in addition to all the
principles of structural voice leading explained above
(primarily the principle of atonality stated already),
must be taken into account in the original conception in
order that a new building block does not begin with the
closing notes of the preceding. This kind of canon allows
broad cantilenas in slow movements and produces rhythmic
effects which are very interesting. Following is the

transcription into the old notation:

1’ bl/‘l

     

The next three-voice and four-voice canons are con-

Structed from the same melic configuration as the foregoing.

158

They are invented according to the two, three and four
divisions of the building block so that different rhythms
are revealed. In the examples, care must again be given
to the syncopations, to the joining of the second building

block and to the endings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

159

 

 

 

 

 

 

111'. ||.|

160

 

 

 

 

161

 

 

 

 

Ostinato counterpoint is a further development of the
second canonic technique treated above. It arises directly
from the melic configuration, i.e. from the basic melic
shape. The difference exists in the fact that in this type
of.counterpoint the voices move more vigorously, no longer

lyrically as in the canon technique but in a disjunct,

162

intransigent and "obstinate" manner. Following are six

examples employing three and four voices as well as

various rhythms:

1111.3 E“

 
  
  
    

       
 

 

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164

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166

 

Vienna: July, 1925.

167

TABLE I

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

168

TABLE I I

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

169

TABLE I I I

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

y .IIV'II.

170

TABLE IV

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

171

TABLE V

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

172

TABLE VI

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

173

TABLE VI I

 

 

 

 

 

174

TABLE VIII

Fb‘r‘bu

=-. ng‘

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

175

TABLE IX

 

176

TABLE X

l’IID'

 

177

TABLE XI

 

 

 

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178

m-VW '
I-__: ~

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TABLE XI I

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Chapter V

CONCLUSION

A perusal of the three treatises appearing here in
translation clearly demonstrates that Hauer possessed an
original mind which attempted to reconcile the problems
brought about by the extreme use of chromaticism in the
late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The solu-
tion which he advocated was avowedly opposed to the
sensual use to which the diatonic-chromatic system had, as
he thought, been put. In its place, he urged that the
twelve pitches of the equal tempered system, along with
their inherent intervals, be placed in the almost "holy"
service of twelve-tone music which, when played on an
equal tempered instrument, exhibits a pure, abstract music,
something which the tonal system could never provide. In
so doing, he openly advocated the use of the term "atonal"
saying that, even at its zenith, the system known as
tonality was an ill-conceived and misguided mode of com-
position upon which to construct any music. Even the best
of composers (Beethoven, for instance) are open to biting
criticism for their improper attitude toward music.

In his music and in his theOries, Hauer.manifests an
ever-increasing concern for an objective kind of music

thich is immune to the sensuous pull of the "leading-tone

179

180

tracks" and which follows "the laws of the cosmos." This
kind of music was not necessarily considered as having the
potential of forming great works of art, but of instilling
in the creator, at the point of creation, a peace of mind
and a feeling of being in harmony with nature. In the
final stages of his life, Hauer increasingly looked upon
the moment of creation as a spiritual act which was meant
for the creator (the manipulator of the musical materials
and the one who solves musical problems) rather than for
the enjoyment or edification of some unknown audience.

His intentions are stated quite clearly in the short

preface to his Zwolftonspiel-Neujahr 1947:- "Twelve-tone

 

music is not an art in the Classical, Romantic or modern
sense but a cosmic game with twelve tempered half steps."1
Briefly stated, composition for Hauer was a problem-solving
venture which depended on the employment of the proper
trope for its success.

In taking the attitude that he did, as well as in
openly embracing the term "atonal," a term which Schdnberg
detested, Hauer, like his contemporaries Yefim Golyshev,
Nicholas Obukhov and Herbert Eimert, as William W. Austin
reminds us, was "more concerned with theoretical formula-

tions of the new technique and with its significance for

 

l. Josef Mattias Hauer, Zwblftonspiel-Neujahr 1947
(Vienna: Fortissimo Verlag, 1962).

 

181

the future development of a common musical language than
with its application to such forms and media as minuet and
trio, sonata, cantata and opera."2
In spite of this semantic dilemma, in which Hauer

advised the use of the word "atonal" while Schonberg
repudiated its use, it is the music of Hauer which sounds
tonal (almost capable of being analyzed according to
traditional methods of analysis), and it is the music of
Schdnberg which sounds truly atonal. Concerning this
situation, Hans Redlich says:

The actual sonorous impact of Hauer's music

is much less forbidding than his theory.

Its repetitive harmonies are sometimes

vaguely reminiscent of Skriabin, its piano-

forte style resembles that of Satie (who in

many ways is a kindred phenomenon as a

theorizing artist and precursor of new

styles more successfully championedey

others), as well as that of Chopin.

In comparing the music of Schonberg and Hauer,

Redlich further states:

Finally, the fact seems worth recording

that Hauer's music never resembles the more

dissonant idiom of Schonberg, to whom, how-

ever, he seems linked Ry common artistic and
technical convictions.

 

2. William W. Austin, Music in the Twentieth Century
(New York: W. W. Norton, 1966), 303.

 

3. Hans F. Redlich, "Hauer, Josef (Mattias)," Groves
Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 5th ed., 10 vols.,
ed. Eric Blom (London: Macmillan, 1954-1961), IV,
136.

 

4. Ibid.

182

Hauer attempted to construct a type of music that was
objective in nature (i.e., eschewed all programmatic
elements), but because of the tertian format (chords of
the seventh and ninth which usually resolve to a consonance),
it sounds like the music of many late nineteenth-century
composers. The difference to Hauer was that it is built
out of "totality" (the forty-four tropes which take into
consideration all possibilities of melos--the intervallic
element which is so important to Hauer), and that it is
not meant for eternity but for the present. In his ap-
praisal of the situation, Herbert Eimert has this to say:

...the cloak of mystical abstruseness,
which characterizes poets, philosophers,
and eastern philosophies as well as the
author under discussion, surrounds Hauer's
unexciting, static, twelve-tone music. His
music is consciously anti-historical,
intentionally primitive, and, despite the
absolute atonality, almost always sonorous.
In its meditative character, it avoids
subjective differentiations and logically
turns to the objective, impersonal set of
twelve tempered tones.... In the develop-
ment of new music, Hauer stands as the
typical outsider and individualist. In
accordance with the trends toward true _
objectivity, his twelve-tone music can be
appraised as the first (almost premature)
undifferentiated attemp§ at a reshaping of
the materials of music.

In proposing his system, Hauer returned to the very
fundamentals of music (the overtone series and considera-

tions of the intervals) and then sought support for his

 

5. Herbert Eimert, "Hauer," Die Musik in Geschichte und
Gegenwart, l4 vols., ed. Frierich Blume (Kassel:
Barenreiter, 1949-68), V, 1824. The translation is
mine.

 

183

ideas on intervals in the Farbenlehre of Goethe. This

 

seems a strange source for support until one understands
what Goethe was doing when he wrote his treatise on color
and the manner in which it is perceived. At the time
that Goethe wrote this work (1810), the wavelength theory
of color was firmly established. Goethe chose to dis-
regard this commonly held theory and, instead, based his
explanation on a philosophical premise saying:

The theory of colors, in particular, has

suffered much, and its progress has been in-

calculably retarded by having been mixed up

with optics generally, a science which cannot

dispense with mathematics; whereas the theory

of colours, in strictness, may be investigated

quite independent of optics.6

From the philosopher, we believe we merit

thanks for having traced the phenomena of

colours to their first sources, to the circum-

stances under which no further explanation

respecting them is possible.7

Goethe believed that his theories concerning color and

light would be widely accepted by all segments of society.
This however, was not to be. Instead, Goethe's Theory was

taken seriously by few people and today it is read mostly

"for the beauty and sweep of his conjectures regarding the

 

6. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Theory of ColOurs, trans.
Charles Lock Eastlake (London: John Murray, 1840), new
ed. with introduction by Deane B. Judd (Cambridge,
Mass.: The M.I.T. Press, 1973), 287.

 

7. Ibid., 1viii.

184

connection between color and philosophical ideas, and for

8

the flavor of life in Europe" at that time.

The advantage of trying to follow Goethe's
explanations of color phenomena is that, by

by the time you have succeeded in doing so, your
thoughts have become so divorced from the
wavelength explanation of color, that you

begin to think about color theory relatively
unhampered by prejudice, either ancient or mod-
ern.

Hauer, with his spirit of eclecticism which sought sup-
port for his ideas in all areas of human endeavor, did for
music (gradations of sound) what Goethe did for the field
of art (gradations of light). To paraphrase the statement
quoted above, it could be said that when one reads the latter

sections of Hauer's The Essence of Musicality in which he

 

meticulously discusses each pitch and its relation to the
note C and quotes extensively from Goethe, one's thoughts be-
come divorced from the traditional explanation of musical
sound which depends on vibrations, ratios, and the like.
One also begins to think about the theory of sound (timbre)
relatively unhampered by preconceived ideas, "either ancient
or modern." While some of Hauer's analogies appear to be
somewhat naive, they were necessary to illustrate his
conception of the interval and everything (melos, rhythm
and timbre) that arises from the interval.

The discussion of color as Hauer employed it, reveals

an important side of Hauer: a side which is, perhaps, not

 

8. Ibid., xi.

9. Ibid., XV.

185

revealed entirely in the music and the treatises, but which
is important for an understanding of Hauer. The side
referred to here is the "totality" of the man. Hauer was
interested in many things. He had a mind that ran to
speculation, one that tried to incorporate the ideas of
the East with those of the West, the thoughts of the
ancients with those of modern day thinkers, and in general,
amalgamate religion, philosophy, mysticism and art in a
grand scenario. In relation to Hauer, Schdnberg and others
appear as highly creative but practical musicians who
concerned themselves with the creation of works of art and
their performance as well as the ultimate reception of
those works by the musical public. Hauer, on the other
hand, was the idealist, never brooking the slightest com-
promise, constantly adding to his arsenal of ideas con-
cerning twelve-tone music. In a general sense, the
juxtaposition of Hauer's treatises with his considerable
number of works, demonstrates that Hauer was a
philosopher-theorist first and a composer second. In many
cases, it can be seen that the composition was written to
illustrate a theory. Perhaps it is on this level that the
troubles existing between Hauer and Schonberg existed and
not the more obvious level of two composers of twelve-tone
music and the problem of the "inventor" of the system.

The conceptions of twelve-tone music held by these two men
were different enough that no problem should have arisen

from this area. It is, perhaps, conceivable that at the

186

root of the dichotomy was the centuries-old difference

between musica practica and musica speculativa. This is

 

 

not to say that these two poles are mutually exclusive or
incompatible, but only that in the case of these two
individuals, it was, perhaps, significant enough to estrange
two otherwise compatible creators.

It would not be too strong a statement to say that
twelve-tone music was the very mind and soul of Hauer: i.e.,
that this mode of composition and, indeed, composition
itself, was a way of life, a meditative and contemplative
manner of expression through which one pursued the meaning
of life, the world and its Creator. It is apparent that
Hauer was as serious about the redemption of the person
through twelve-tone music as Wagner was about the redemp-
tion of mankind through his works for the stage and their
accompanying philosophy. Found among a group of aphorisms
is the following statement which quite adequately illus-
trates what has been said:

Immutable, absolute music is the link with
eternity, religion, with spiritual reality

and the sacred tongue of the Father. This stands
in contrast to the diverse creeds, phil-
osophical systems, political ideologies,

and national tongueiowhich are mutable and
ephemeral elements.

The "absolute music" referred to by Hauer is, of course,

twelve-tone music.

 

10. Taken from a printed list of Hauer's aphorisms given
to me by Bruno Hauer. The translation is mine.

187

The refinement of this theory of musical composition
to a state of near religion was something that occurred
toward the latter part of his creative career, but it must
be realized that it was in a state of formation for a long
period of that career. That is to say, many of the works
which have opus numbers (1939 and before) have these traits,

but it is really through the Zwoltonspielen (1940 and after)

 

that the culmination of many of these ideas took place.
Hauer, although little known in the non-German world,
has, like his compatriot Schdnberg, been an important force
in twentieth-century music. That he is not widely recog-
nized as a composer and theorist is due to many reasons,
principal among them being the problem of language. The
translation of these works will, perhaps, help to rectify

a part of this problem.

APPENDIX

APPENDIX

LIST OF WORKS

 

Because of the fact that he wrote so many compositions
(ninety-two works with opus numbers and literally hundreds
without), and because so many of these compositions are
considered to be either lost or destroyed, a complete
works list will probably never be possible for Hauer.

There have been several works lists published but they are,
understandably, somewhat out of date. The present list
was compiled from many sources, the most helpful of which
was the list of works found in Walter Szmolyan's J;ML
Haue£,l Also of help, but containing inaccuracies, was
the list of works contained in the study of Hauer's
theories by Monika Lichtenfeld.2 New information about
Hauer's works was made possible through several lists and
information given to me by Bruno Hauer. One list consists
of a descriptive exposition of the Mss. and first editions
of Hauer's works which are still in the possession of the
chhert family in Vienna. The list reveals that they own

almost all the Mss. of Op. 1 to Op. 92 (1912 to 1939).

 

1. Walter Szmolyan, "Josef Mattias Hauer," Osterreichische
Komponisten des xx. Jahrhunderts (Vienna: 75ster-
reichische Bundesverlag), VI, 70-77.

 

2. Monika Lichtenfeld, "Untersuchungen zur Theorie der
Zwblftontechnik bei Josef Mattias Hauer," K61ner
Beitrage zur Musikforschung, ed. Karl Gustav Fellerer
(Regensburg: Gustav Bosse Verlag, 1964), XXIX,
191-201.

188

189

The other list given to me by Bruno Hauer contains informa-
tion about works written after 1939 which are unpublished
and for which he possesses the Ms. This list has added
greatly to the accuracy and, indeed, the number of works
'known to have been written by Hauer. The accuracy of all
sources was, of course, corroborated by information pro-
vided by the music itself, whether in published or manu-
script form.

The list includes as much pertinent information as
is possible, in order that individual compositions can be
readily distinguished.from one another, particularly in
the case of the works written since 1939, almost all of

which share the same title: delftonspiel. In addition to

 

the basic information such as opus number (where applic-
able), title, instrumentation and any dedicatory statement,
the list provides information relative to the date of
composition and the availability of the work (publisher,
publisher's catalog number and date of publication). If
the work exists only in Ms., the name of the person
or institution known to possess the Ms. is given, wherever
possible.

In order to keep the bulk of the list to a minimum,
a few abbreviations were used. These abbreviations apply
both to publishers and to persons known to possess the Ms.

of a particular work. The abbreviations are as follows:

D.
F.V.
S.

J.H.
U.E.
VOS.

BOH.

I.

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

1

190

Doblinger Verlag, Vienna.

Fortissimo Verlag, Vienna.

Schlesinger Verlag, Berlin (Haslinger, Vienna)
which is now under the aegis of Robert Lienau,
Berlin-Lichterfeld.

J.M. Hauer.

Universal Edition, Vienna.

Victor Sokolowski, Director of the Hauer-
Kreis, Vienna.

Bruno Hauer (son of the composer) who lives in
Vienna.

The K6chert Family in Vienna.

Works with opus numbers.

Nomos. In seven sections for piano two and four
hands (harmonium). Dedicated to Ferdinand
Ebner. Late fall, 1912. Published by Hauer
(J.H.4). F.V. 1008 (1964).

Nomos. In five sections for piano two and four
hands (harmonium). Dedicated to Adolf Deutsch.
Easter, 1913. Published by Hauer (J.H.5). F.V.
756 (1964).

Sieben Kleine Stflcke.
Dedicated to Wondracek.
by Hauer (J.H.lO). U.E.

For piano (harmonium).
Spring, 1912. Published
8380 (1925).

 

Lied des Letzten. On words by Josef Rauscher.
For men's voices and piano. September, 1913.

 

K.

For chamber orchestra.
September 16 -
Published by Hauer (J.H.9).

Apgkalyptische Phantasie.
Dedicated by Marie Therese.
October 23, 1913.
F.V. 883.

 

Lieder von Friedrich Halderlin. For solo voice
(baritone) and piano. Five songs. Dedicated to
Anna Bahr-Mildenburg. May 23 - June 3, 1914.

Published by Hauer (J.H.l). U.E. 9443 (1928).

 

Chorlieder aus der Tragbdien des Sophokles. For
men's voices. On a translation by J. J. C.
Donner. Dedicated to Josef Rauscher. June,

1914. Published by Hauer (J.H.3). S.

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

191

Kyrie eleison. For chamber orchestra and voice.
Dedicated to Georg Zissler. October, 1914.
Published by Hauer (J.H.7).

Morgenlandisches Marchen. For piano two and
four hands (harmonium). Dedicated to Leopoldine
Hauer. January, 1915. Published by Hauer
(J.H.8). U.E. 8380 (1925).

Tanz. For piano. Dedicated to Else Altman.
February 3-10, 1915. Published by Hauer (J.H.2).
U.E. 8380 (1925).

Prometheus von Goethe. For baritone and piano.
February, 1915. K.

 

Hdlderlin-Lieder. For baritone and piano (three
songs). Dedicated to Frau Marianne Hall.
November 25, 1914 - February 22, 1915. Pub-
lished by Hauer (J.H.6). U.E. 9443 (1928, as
Band I of Hdlderlin-Lieder).

 

Uber die Klangfarbe. Dedicated to Dr. R. V.
Bauer. Published by Hauer in 1918 (E.P. Tal &
Co., Vienna). (Theoretical writing which
provided the basis for his further writings,
particularly VOm Wesen des Musikalischen.)

 

"Bange Stunde". Song on words by Karl Kraus.
1918. Lost.

 

anf kleine Stucke. For piano (harmonium).
Dedicated to Dr. Wilhelm Fischer. April 30 -
May 4, 1919. Published by Hauer (J.H.12).
F.V. 852 (1970).

 

Nachklangstudien. For piano. Dedicated to Anna
Hollering. May, 1919. Published by Hauer
(J.H.ll). U.E. 8380 (1925).

 

Phantasie. For piano (harmonium). Dedicated to
Frau Hildegard Itten. July 21 - August 4, 1919.
Published by Hauer in twelve-tone notation
(J.H.14). '

Der gefesselte Prometheus (Schluss der Tragédie
des Aischylos). For piano and voice. Dedicated
to Johannes Itten. August 10 - 11, 1919. Pub-
lished by Hauer in twelve—tone notation
(J.H.13).

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

192

Nomos. For piano (harmonium). Dedicated to
Frau Agathe Korngold. August 25 - 29, 1919.
Published by Hauer in twelve-tone notation
(J.H.15).

Atonale Musik. Pieces for piano in two volumes,
1922. Dedicated to friends and patrons. S.
10182 (1923).

 

Hdlderlin-Lieder. For baritone and piano.
Eight songs. June, 1922. S. 10361.

 

Etflden fur Klavier. Two volumes. Dedicated to
Arnold Schonberg on his fiftieth birthday.
1922 - 1923. U.E. 8381 a/b (1926).

 

Hdlderlin-Lieder. For baritone and piano. Four
songs. Dedicated to Hugo Breuer (songs 1 and 2)
and Gertrud Kbchert (songs 3 and 4). 1923-24.
U.E. 9444 (1929; as Band II of the Hdlderlin-
Lieder.)

 

Lied der Liebe. For three part women's choir,
piano and harmonium. On poetry by Friedrich
Halderlin. Whitsuntide, 1923. K.

 

Sechzig kleine Stucke. For piano with titles
taken from the words of Friedrich Halderlin.
Dedicated to Erich Kbchert. August 22 - October
11, 1923. (Sixteen pieces were published by
Schlesinger in 1924 and are now available from
Robert Lienau: 10348.)

 

Quintet. For piano, clarinet, violin, viola and
cello. Dedicated to Gertrud K6chert. February
27, 1924. S. 10369 (1924).

Schalmeien. For clarinet and piano. March, 1924.
Willi Reich. K.

 

Vier Stficke. For violin and piano. Dedicated to
Rudolf Kolisch. May, 1924. S. 10367 (1924).

 

Stflcke. For cello and piano. April, 1924.
Joachim Stutschewski. K.

Fflnf Stflcke fflr Streichquartett (First String
Quartet). Dedicated to Frau Kachert. April 18 -
24, 1924. S. 10368 (1924).

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

4O

41

42

43

44

Sextett.

193

Erste Suite fflr Orchester. Dedicated to Erich
K6chert. June, 1924. S. 10419 (1925).

 

H61derlin-Lieder. For baritone and piano on
poetry by Friedrich Hdlderlin. Seven songs.
Dedicated to Gertrud chhert on her birthday.
October 25 - 29, 1924. U.E. 9445 (1929; as
Band III of the HOlderlin-Lieder).

 

Dedicated to Julius
1924. S. 10503

Zweite Suite fflr Orchester.
Lienau. November - December,
(1925).

 

Stucke fur Streichquartett (Second String Quartet).
R. Kolisch. K.

 

For flute, clarinet, violin, viola,

cello and contrabass. Lost.
Dritte Suite fur Orchester und Baritone. On the
poem, "Mein Eigentum," by HOlderlin. Dedicated
to Prof. Dr. Johann Salzer. May, 1925. K.

 

Romantische Phantasie. For orchestra. June,

 

1925. B.H.

Stucke fur Streichquartett (Third String

 

Quartet). July - August, 1925.

Phantasie fur Klavier. Dedicated to Albert

 

Linschutz. Hermann Heiss.

Halderlin-Lieder. For baritone and piano on

 

poetry by Friedrich H51der1in. Five songs.
Dedicated to Fritz Lampl. September, 1925.
U.E. 9446 (1929; as Band IV of the HOlderlin-
Lieder).

Stflcke fur Violine und Klavier. Dedicated to

 

Prof. Gottesmann. December, 1925. K.

Stncke fur Streichquartett (Fourth String

 

Quartet). Otto Breuer. K.

Vierte Suite fur Orchester. Dedicated to Dr.

 

Emil Klein. January, 1926. K.

Lateinische Messe. For mixed choir, organ,

 

flute, oboe, clarinet, horn, trumpet, trombone,
and string quartet. Lost.

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

56

57

58

194

Ffinfte Suite fur Orchester.
chhert. Ms. Lost.

Dedicated to Wolfgang

 

Lateinsche Messe.
Schiffmann, Vienna.

(Unfinished) Stephanie

 

Sechste Suite fur Orchester.(Sixth String
Quartet). Dedicated to Gottfried KOchert.
U.E. 8686/8687 (1926).

 

Dedicated to
U.E. 9429 (1928).

Siebente Suite fur Orchester.
Erwin Lang. September, 1926.

 

Symphonische Stficke.
piano and harmonium.

For string orchestra,
December, 1926. B.H.

 

Sinfonietta: Symphonische Stficke fur grosses

 

Orchester. Dedicated to Frau Elly Kleinschmidt.

 

1927. U.E. 9759 (1929).

Musikfilm, eine Folge von 21 charakteristischen

 

Klavierstucken mit Uberschriften. Dedicated to
Frau Gertrud KOchert. April 30, 1927. K.

 

Achte Suite fur Orchester. Dedicated to Hermann

 

Scherchen. April, 1927. B.H.

"Wandlungen:" kammeroratorium fur Buhne oder
Konzert. On words by Friedrich HOlderlin. For

 

six solo voices, mixed choir and orchestra.

December 5, 1927. U.E. 9705 (1929).

Violinkonzert in einem Satz. March 9 - April 6,

 

1928. B.H.

Klavierkonzert mit Orchester. April 13 - May 8,

 

1928. B.H.

Sieben Charakterstucke mit fiberschriften far

 

Violine allein. May, 1928. D. 16.642.

 

"Vom Leben:" eine poetische Lesung mit Musik

 

nach Worten von Friedrich HOlderlin (oratorisches
"H6rspie1"). For reader, small mixed choir and

 

 

small orchestra. September, 1928. B.H.

"Emilie vor ihrem Brauttaq." Cantata on words
by Friederich Halderlin for alto solo and
orchestra. November 8 - 21, 1928. B.H.

 

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

59

60

61

62

63

64

65

66

67

68

69

195

Vier Charakterstucke fflr Violoncello allein.
The Amar-Quartett. D. 14.627

 

Salambo. An opera in seven pictures after the
novel by Gustav Flaubert. May 19 - August 3,
1929.

Divertimento fur kleines Orchester in einem
Satz. Dedicated to Othmar Steinbauer. May 5,
1930. B.H.

 

 

"Die schwarze Spinne:" deutsches Singspiel nach
der Erzahlung von Jeremias Gotthelf. Arranged
for the stage by Hans Schlesinger. July 27, 1932.
K.

 

 

Konzertstuck fur Orchester. Conceived as a.
prelude to the second part of Die Schwarze

 

 

Spinne. August 10, 1932. K.
"Diablo:" Walzer fur Kammerorchester. Hermann

 

Scherchen. K.

Erste und Zweite Tanzphantasie. For soprano,
alto, tenor, bass and large orchestra. December
28, 1932 and January 23, 1933. K.

 

Dritte, Vierte, Fanfte, Sechste und Siebente

 

Tanzphantasie. Dritte: November 21, 1933;

 

Vierte: December 6, 1933; Funfte: December 17,

1933. K.

"Der Menschen Weg." First version: "Cantata

 

in Seven Parts for Solo Voices, Chorus, and
Orchestra on Words by Friedrich H61derlin."'
Second version: "Cantata in Five Parts for
Four Solo Voices, Mixed Choir and Orchestra on
Words by Friedrich Hdlderlin." 1952. U.E.
12159 (1953).

1934.

"Empedokleslfl dramatische Gesange in zwei Teilen.
For solo voices, men's choir and orchestra.
June - September, 1935. K.

For violin, viola, cello, contrabass
Fall, 1935.

Quintett.
and piano.

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus
Opus

Opus

Opus
Opus
Opus

Opus

70

71

72

73

74

75

76

77
78
79

80
81
82

83

196

 

Erste Tanzsuite fur neun Soloinstrumente. For
flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, two violins,
viola, cello and piano. May, 1936. B.H.
Zweite Tanzsuite fur neun Soloinstrumente. For

 

flute, oboe, bass clarinet, bassoon, two violins,
viola, cello and piano. Dedicated to "my son
Bruno." October - November, 1936. K.

Dritte Tanzsuite fur neun Soloinstrumente. For
flute, oboe, bass clarinet, bassoon, two violins,

 

 

viola, cello and piano. 1937. K.

Vierte Tanzsuite far neun Soloinstrumente. 1937.
K.

delftonmusik fur Orchester. October 19, 1937.

 

K.

Zwletonmusik far Orchester. Dedicated to the

 

intellectual nobility of all people. February
15, 1938. K.
1. Rezitativ fur Baritone und Klavier. Based

_—

on "Die Eichbaume" of Holderlin. March, 1938.

2. "Frflhling." On words of Holderlin. For
mixed choir, violins and cellos. March, 1938.
3. Quintett. For two violins, viola, cello

and piano. March, 1938.

4. ZwOlftonmusik fur Orchester. April, 1938.
All works are in the possession of the Kochert
family.

 

Zwblftonmusik fur Orchester. K.

 

Zwblftonmusik fur Orchester. K.

 

Zwblftonmusik fur Orchester. October - November,

 

 

 

 

1938. K.

Zwblftonmusik fur Orchester. December, 1938. K.
Zwblftonmusik fur Orchester. January, 1939. K.
Zwblftonmusik fur Orchester. May, 1939. K.
Zwblftonmusik fur Orchester. June, 1939. K.

 

Opus

Opus

Opus
Opus
Opus

Opus

Opus
Opus
Opus
Opus
Opus

Opus

Opus

Opus

II.

84

85

86
87
88

89

90
91
92

II

III

IV

V

197

delftonmusik far Orchester. September, 1939.
K.

 

delftonmusik fur Orchester. September, 1939.
K.

 

No composition assigned to this number.
No composition assigned to this number.

EwOlftonmusik far Orchester. August, 1939. K.

 

delftonmusik far Orchester. Dedicated to "my
friend Hans Muschik." August 4, 1939. (The Ms.
is in twelve-tone notation.) Prof. Johann
Muschik.

 

ZwOlftonmusik far Orchester. October 8, 1939.

 

Zwo1ftonmusik fur Orchester. Juen 29, 1940.

 

ZwOlftonmusik fur Orchester. August 19, 1940.

 

The same as Op. 53
The same as Op. 67.

Labyrinthischer Tranz. For piano four hands.

 

November 16, 1952. U.E. 12166 (1953).
Chinesisches Streichquartett. 1953.

Langsamer Walzer far Orchester. 1953.

Works without opus numbers.

Praludium fur Celesta. September, 1921, F.V.
972 (1974).

 

Praludium fur Celesta, May 9, 1922.

"Traurigkeit der Abendglocken." For mixed choir
and piano. On a poem by L. Rochowanski. Pos-
sibly 1946. B.H.

"Meine geliebten Tale lacheln mich an." For
female voiCe on wordsgby Friedrich Hdlderlin.
1949. F.V. 854 (1974).

198

Halderlin-Rezitationen. For female voice and
piano. Dedicated to Grete Kammerlander. April
30, 1949. Dr. Wolfgang Kammerlander.

Hausmusik, For two violins and piano. April 6,
1955. B.H.

 

Kaleidoskop. For orchestra. August 20, 1956.
B.H.

 

Streichquartett. August 27, 1956. B.H.

Klavierquintett. September 17, 1956. B.H.

 

Musik fur Schule und Haus. For two violins and
piano. September 22, 1956. B.H.

Musik fur Schule and Hans. For violin, viola and
piano. September 22, 1956. B.H.

Langsamer Walzer. For two violins, two Violas
and piano four hands. October 8, 1956. B.H.

 

Langsamer Walzer. For orchestra. November 27,
1956. B.H.

 

Langsamer Walzer. For orchestra. January 10,
1957. B.H.

 

Langsamer Walzer. For orchestra. January 19,
1957. B.H.

 

Kammermusik. For four woodwinds, four strings
and piano four hands. January 24, 1957. B.H.

 

Langsamer Walzer. For orchestra. February 9,
1957. B.H.

 

Sakraler Tanz. For orchestra. March 2, 1957.
B.H.

 

Tanz. For piano four hands. May 26, 1958.

Tanz in langsamen 3/4-Takt. For two violins,
two Violas and piano. June, 1958. F.V. 607
(1958).

Tanz in langsamen 4/4-Takt. For two violins,
two Violas and piano. August, 1958. F.V. 607
(1958).

 

199

Hausmusik. For piano four hands. September,
1958. F.V. 608 (1958).

 

Tanz. For violin, viola and piano four hands.
September 6, 1958. B.H.

III. Twelve-Tone Games.

(A)

With date of composition.

1940
delftonespiel I. For orchestra. August. K.

 

delftonespiel II. For orchestra. September.
K. '

 

delftonespiel III. For orchestra. September -
November. K.

 

Zwolftbnespiel IV. For orchestra. Twelve-tone
row taken from Salambo. K.

 

1942

delftanespiel I. For orchestra. With a twelve-
tone row which is found in six different tropes.
February. B.H.

 

delfthnespiel II. For orchestra. With a twelve-
tone row which is found in six different tropes.
Late fall. B.H.

 

Note. All of the compositions which follow are
titled Zwblftonspiel (twelve-tone game) and,
therefore, instead of repeating this one-word
title for every entry, the information for each
work will begin with the date and continue with
the instrumentation and the name of the publisher
and the catalog number (if any) or the name of
the possessor of the manuscript (see above for
abbreviations). In some cases there will be
other information included which would help to
indentify the work (that it was built on a
particular row, etc.). In still others, there
will be a Roman numeral which Hauer applied to
these works in a rather irregular fashion. Some
entries have no date but there is reason enough
to believe that the work in question was written
in the year under which it is listed.

 

200

1943

May-June. Foruorchestra. Dedicated to Mattias
Winkelmayer. Osterreichen Musikzeitschrift.

May-June. For orchestra. V.S.

1945
March 26. XIX. For orchestra. V.S.

. XXII. For piano quintet. B.H.

 

July 16. XXII. For orchestra (first setting).
B.H.

August 7. XXII. For orchestra (second setting).
B.H.

September 19. XXIV. For orchestra. B.H.
September 19. XXIV. For piano. B.H.
1946

February 1. XXIV. Setting for string and
wind quintet. B.H.

. XXII. For piano. U.E. 12046
(1951; in an album for piano).

 

. For piano quintet. Bibliothek des
Internationalen Musikinstituts, Darmstadt.

 

March 11. XXVII. For string quartet and harp-
sichord. On a row by Victor Sokolowski. V.S.

July 24. For orchestra. On a row by Victor
Seroff. B.H.

November 29. For orchestra. On a row by
Victor Sokolowski. V.S.

Christmas. For piano. F.V. 711 (1965).

Christmas. For violin and clarinet. Dedicated
to Friedrich Wildgans.

. XXXII. For violin, two Violas and
piano. B.H.

 

 

201

1947

. For clarinet, violin, viola and
piano. On a twelve-tone row by Friedrich
Wildgans. B.H.

 

New Year's. For piano four hands. On a twelve-
tone row by Ernst Hartmann. Ernst Hartmann,
Mddling.

New Year's. For piano. F.V. 700 (1962).
January. Three delftonspiele for two violins,

viola and cello. On a twelveitone row by Ernst
Hartmann. Ernst Hartmann, Mddling.

 

January 16. For two violins, viola, cello and
piano. On a twelve-tone row by Ernst Hartmann.
Ernst Hartmann, Madling.

January 21. For orchestra. On a twelve-tone
row by Ernst Hartmann. Ernst Hartmann, MOdling.

March 16. For clarinet, two violins, viola and
cello. V.S.

April 24. For cembalo and viola. V.S.

Easter. For small choir and piano. On a twelve-
tone row by Ernst Hartmann with words dealing with
ancient Chinese traditions: "In eine verlogene
heucherische Welt." Dedicated to Ferdinand
Grossmann. B.H.

May 9. For zither and guitar. On a twelve-tone
row by Franz Lemp. V.S.

May 17. For clarinet and piano. Dedicated to
Friedrich Wildgans. Friedrich Wildgans, Vienna.

July 3. For four strings and piano. B.H.

July 30. For two female and two male voices and
piano. With the subtitle: "Oh, diese Ideologen."
V.S.

Christmas. For clarinet, violin, viola, cello
and piano. On a twelve-tone row by Friedrich
Wildgans. Friedrich Wildgans, Vienna.

202

1948
January. For two violins, viola and cello. B.H.

January. For two violins, viola and cello. K.

July 22. For harpSichord and violin. On a
twelve-tone row by Marie Panzer-Spetlich. V.S.

August 26. For violin and harpsichord. D.
14.844 (1975).

August 28. For violin and harpsichord. D.
14.845 (1975).

August 31. For violin (flute) and harpsichord.
D. 14.843 (1975).

September 17. For string quartet. B.H.

1949
October. For five violins. Dedicated to Frau
Gertrud chhert on her birthday. K.

1950

May. For five violins. Dedicated to Herrn
Burgermeister Theodore KOrner. Wiener
Stadtbibliothek.

May 24. For five violins. Prof. Leo Walter
Reichl, Vienna.

June 10. For orchestra. Prof. Leo Walter Reichl,
Vienna.

1951
August. For five instruments. Dedicated to
Victor Sokolowski.

November 28. For string quartet and piano four
hands. B.H.

1952

March 21. For piano four hands. Dedicated to
Dr. Wilhelm Waldstein. Dr. Wilhelm Waldstein,
Vienna.

203

April - May. For piano four hands. Dedicated
to Kulturreferenten Wiens, Stadtrat Hans Mandl.
Wiener Stadtbibliothek.

June 24. For piano four hands. Dedicated to

the memory of Kathe Waldstein. Dr. Wilhelm
Waldstein.

June 28. For piano four hands. With a poem

by Else Lasker-Schfller: "Ein alter Tibetteppich."
Dedicated to Laetitia Glass-Lilienberg. V.S.

July 10. For piano four hands. Prof. Leo
Walter Reichl, Vienna.

July 16. For four-hand piano and harmonium.
Prof. Leo Walter Reichl, Vienna.

July 28. For piano four hands. B.H.
July. For piano. B.H.

July 31. For four-hand piano and harmonium.
Wiener Stadtbibliothek.

August 4. For piano four hands. B.H.

September 27. For piano and harmonium. Prof.
Leo Walter Reichl, Vienna.

November 2. For Harpsichord. V.S.
1953
March. For piano. F.V. 712.

June 15. For mixed choir and piano. Words by
Schiller and Goethe ("Ehret die Frauen"). B.H.

July 31. For two violins, viola and cello. B.H.

October 13. For orchestra. B.H.

1955

February 25.. For "Hausorchester" (four-hand
piano, violin, cello and accordion). Dedicated
to the Burgermeister der Stadt Wien, Franz Jonas.
Wiener Stadtbibliothek.

 

204

February. For two violins and harpsichord.

March. For "Hausorchester" (four-hand piano
and accordion).

 

March 29. For harpsichord. V.S.

April. For piano four hands. Dedicated to Leo
Walter Reichl and Victor Sokolowski.

May. For piano four hands. F.V. 485

June 2. For piano. F.V. 712.

June 5. For harpsichord. B.H.

June 11. For harpsichord (piano). Dedicated to

Victor Sokolowski. F.V. 713 (1963).

Jzigary 13. For four-hand piano. Dedicated to
Bruno Hauer. B.H.

February 14. For four-hand piano. B.H.

April. For four-hand piano. D. 9268 (1956).
April 13. For four-hand piano. B.H.

May 20. For flute, oboe, bass clarinet, bassoon,

two violins, viola, cello and four-hand piano.
B.H.

May 24. For four woodwinds, four strings and
four-hand piano. B.H.

July 10. For piano four hands. F.V. 532 (1956).
July 24. For flute, oboe, bass clarinet, bas-
soon, two violins, viola, cello and four-hand
piano. B.H.

July 25. For piano four hands. B.H.

August 6. For two violins, viola, cello and
piano four hands. B.H.

 

205

August 9. For piano four hands. B.H.
August 23. For twelve-tone orchestra. B.H.

September 2. For violin and piano. F.V. 851
(1974).

September 8. For String orchestra and piano.
("In kristallischer Bindung im vierfachen
Kontrapunkt." "Tanz tibetanischer Manche im
langsamen 3/4-Takt.") B.H.

September 13. For violin, cello and piano four
hands. B.H.

September. For piano. F.V. 540 (1956).
October. For piano four hands. F.V. 549 (1957).
October 2. For piano four hands. B.H.

October 11. For two violins and two Violas.

("In kristallischer Bindung in vierfachen
Kontrapunkt.") B.H.

1957
January 30. For two violins, viola and cello.
F.V. 556 (1957).

April 7. For two violins, viola, cello and
piano four hands. F.V. 565 (1957).

June 15. For four woodwinds, four strings and
piano four hands. B.H.

July 8. For piano, four hands. F.V. 567 (1957).

July 26. For four woodwinds and four strings.
B.H.

August 3. For violin, cello and piano four
hands. B.H.

August 9. For orchestra. B.H.

206

August 13. For violin, cello and piano four
hands. B.H.

August 17. For two violins and piano four hands.
B.H.

September. For orchestra. B.H.
September. For violin, viola and piano. B.H.
September 5. For violin, viola and piano. B.H.

September 9. For four solo voices, violin,
viola and piano (or harpsichord). B.H.

September 22. For orchestra. D. 14.862 (1974).

September 11. For flute, clarinet, bassoon and
four strings. B.H.

October. For "Heimorchester" (Violin, cello,
accordion and piano four hands). F.V. 572
(1957) .

October 10. For two violins and piano. B.H.
1958

January. For flute, bassoon (bass clarinet) and
string quartet. F.V. 584 (1958).

March. For chamber orchestra. F.V. 595 (1958).

April 16. For two violins, viola, cello and
piano four hands, B.H.

April 26. For two violins, viola, cello and
piano four hands. B.H.

May 3. For string sextet (two violins, two
Violas and two cellos). B.H.

May 22. For two violins, viola, cello and piano
four hands. B.H. ’

May. For string sextet (two violins, two Violas
and two cellos). F.V. 596 (1958).

June. For two violins, viola, cello and piano.
B.H.

 

(B)

207

Without date of composition.

XVII. For flute, oboe, two clarinets, bassoon,
horn, trumpet, trombone, harp and strings.

XXIV. For flute, oboe, two clarinets, bassoon,
horn, trumpet, trombone, harp and strings.

For string or wind instruments.

For flute, oboe, bassoon, piano and strings.
Ars-viva-Verlag, Mainz (1954).

For piano four hands and harmonium. Published
by Hauer (facsimile).

For piano. Published by Hauer (facsimile).

For orchestra. Bibliothek des Internationalen
Musikinstituts, Darmstadt.

For orchestra. Bibliothek des Internationalen
Musikinstituts, Darmstadt.

XXV. For orchestra (sextuple string quartet and
harp). V.S.

XXVIII. For string quartet and piano. With a
twelve-tone row which exists in six different
tropes. V.S. -

For organ. With a twelve-tone row from Victor
Sokolowski. V.S.

For clarinet, violin, viola, cello and piano.

With a twelve-tone row by Ernst Hartmann. For
Prof. Friedrich Wildgans. Friedrich Wildgans.

For two violins, viola, and cello. With a twelve-
tone row by Prof. Friedrich Wildgans. Friedrich
Wildgans.

For Quintet. Dedicated to Karl Schwarz.

XXIX. (Possibly 1946.)

XXX. (Possibly 1946.)

For four violins. Wiener Stadtbibliothek.

IV.

208

Theoretical writings.

fiber‘die Klangfarbe, Op. 13. Dedicated to
Dr. R.v. Bauer. Printed privately by Hauer in
Vienna. 1918.

 

VOm Wesen des Musikalischen.
First edition by Waldheim-Eberle in Leipzig
and Vienna in 1920.
Second edition (with the subtitle: ‘Ein
Lehrbuch‘der atOnalen Musik) by Schlesinger
in Berlin and Vienna in 1923.
New edition (edited by Victor Sokolowski) by
Robert Lienau of Berlin-Lichterfelde in 1966.

 

 

Deutung des Melos: Eine Frage an;die Kfinstler
und Denker unserer Zeit. Volume 7 of Neue
Musikbficher. E.P. Tal, Leipzig, Vienna and
Zfirich, 1923.

 

 

 

 

VOm Melos zur Pauke: Eine Einffihrung'in die
Zw51ftonmusik} Dedicated'to ArnoldVSchEnberg.
Volume 1 of Theoretische Schriften. U.E. 8395
(1925).

 

 

 

ZWOlftOntechnik: Die Lehre Von den Tropen.
Dedicated to Hermann Heiss. Volume 2 of Theore-
tische Schriften. U.E. 8438 (1926).

 

 

 

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BIBLIOGRAPHY

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