An Underlying Affinity Schoenberg—Bartók—Crumb
Har r y Haskell
At first glance, the three iconic 20th-century works on tonight’s program might seem to have little in common. Arnold Schoenberg’s urgent, densely packed Chamber Symphony Op. 9 (1906) stands at several stylistic removes from Béla Bartók’s bravura, folk-inspired Contrasts (1938) and the ethereal, richly evocative sound world of George Crumb’s Ancient Voices of Children (1970). Yet this apparent dissimilarity masks an underlying affinity among the three composers. In the first decade of the century, Bartók and Schoenberg approached atonality on parallel tracks, even if their paths ultimately diverged. Although Schoenberg didn’t share Bartók’s fascination with folksong and nature, he nonetheless counted the Hungarian among his closest musical soulmates. Bartók, for his part, admired Schoenberg’s harmonic innovations but couldn’t resist a gentle dig: “His complete alienation to Nature, which of course I do not regard as a blemish, is no doubt the reason why many find his work so difficult.” Crumb drew sustenance from both of his predecessors: his poetic imagery and atmospheric “night music” owe a debt to Bartók, while his penchant for concision and subtly nuanced timbres and dynamics reflects the influence of Schoenberg’s pupil Anton Webern. Bridging the Old and New Worlds The late 1930s were a heady and productive period for Bartók. Relieved of his onerous teaching duties at the Budapest Academy of Music, he was finally free to immerse himself in the study of
13
