At moments they impress one as
nothing more than abstractions from the idiosyncrasies and mannerisms of
the works of Schoenberg's second period made in the hope of arriving at
definiteness of style and intensity of speech. They smell of the
synagogue as much as they do of the laboratory. Beside the Doctor of
Music there stands the Talmudic Jew, the man all intellect and no
feeling, who subtilizes over musical art as though it were the Law.
The compositions of this period constitute an artistic retrogression
rather than an advance. They are not "modern music" for all their
apparent stylistic kinship to the music of Strawinsky and Scriabine and
Ornstein. Nor are they "music of the past." They belong rather more to
the sort of music that has no more relation with yesteryear than it has
with this or next. They belong to the sort that never has youth and
vigor, is old the moment it is produced. Their essential
inexpressiveness makes almost virtueless the characteristics which
Schoenberg has carried into them from out his fecund period. The
severity and boldness of contour, so biting in the quartet, becomes
almost without significance in them. If there is such a thing as
rhythmless music, would not the stagnant orchestra of the "Five
Orchestral Pieces" exemplify it? The alternately rich and acidulous
color is faded; an icy green predominates.
Pages:
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247