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Canada •

Schoenberg, Pappenheim, and the Expression of Solitude in Erwartung,op.17

Melanie Feilotter Department of Music McGiII University •

A Thesis submitted to the Faculty ofGraduate Studies and Research in partial fultillment ofthe requirements ofthe degree of Master of Arts.

Melanie Feilotter ••• 1995 National Library Bibliothèque nationale .+. of Canada du Canada Acguisitions and Direction des acquisitions et Bibliographie Ser

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ISBN 0-612-12024-4

Canada • Preface

1wou Id like to express my sincerest thanh to my advisor, Professor Brian Cherney, for his extremely helpful ideas and suggestions, and for his patience while having to communicate with me long-distance. Many thanks 10 Susan McClary for her thoughts on the project in its early stages, and also to Carolyn Abbate, my employer in Berlin during the 1994-95 year, for her helpfulness with 10gistical malters. 1am also grateful to Rui Magone (Berlin) for his helpful language skills, and to Simon Morrison for his continued support and encouragement.

•

• • 2

Schoenberg, Pappenheim, and the Expression of Solitude in Erwurlnnl'. op.!7

Abslract

Schoenberg's monodrama Erwanung, op.l? (1909), appeared al the dawn ofearly Expn:ssionism, a movement which profoundly affected the composer's early works. This movement dealt in part with the alienation and isolation ofthe self in what many artists considered a corrupt and degenemte society. The fll'st part of this thesis examines the possible influences of the Expressionist and Symbolist traditions on Erwartuog's text and, to a lesser extent. the early history ofpsychoanalysis, ofwhich librellist Marie Pappenheim was certainly aware. Thc impact of the changes made by Schoenberg to Pappenheim's originaltext, as weil as sorne of his e1usivc stage directions are given consideration. The composer and librellist created a text which effectively obscures the boundaries between the protagonist's conscious and unconscious thoughts, hence confusing the audience's perception ofreality and illusion. Schoenberg parallels this dramatic disjunction in his music, as is discussed in the second part of the paper. Certain representational moments (for example, pitch cells and ostinali) arc presented; the musical context of these moments is radically changed in subsequent appearanccs, preventing them l'rom being audibly recognizable, and l'rom retaining a stable meaning. This • discussion refutes earlier analyses ofErwanung which stress so-called motivic and thematic connections. Severa! ilIustrative moments in Scene IV are highlighted. Although on a locallevcl, certain musical connections exist, what remains most disturbing and thus most effective in Erwanung is how the separateness of these 'climactic' moments gives the work its disjunct and temporally unpredictable quality.

• • 3 Schoenberg, Pappcnheim, et l'Expression de la Solitude dans Erwartung, op.l7

Ré5umé

Le monodrame Erwartun!: de Schoenberg, op.17 (1909), a été composé à l'aube d'Expressionisme. Deux thèmes-clés de ce mouvement artistique - qui a eu un effet profond sur les premières oeuvres de Schoenberg - étaient l'aliénation et l'isolation de l'individu dans une société considerée par be:.ucoup d'artistes comme corromtue et dégénérée. La première partie de la thèse examine, d'une part, l'influence que les traditions de l'Expressionisme et du Symbolisme ont probablement eu sur le libretto d'Erwartun!: et, d'autre part, la relation entre les débuts historiques de la psychanalyse et Marie Pappenheim, la librettiste d'Erwartllng. L'effet des modifications faites par Schoenberg sur le texte original de Pappenheim y est aussi traité et evalué. Puis on rend compte des indications de Schoenberg, malheureusement assez elliptiques, pour la mise en scène de son monodrame. Le compositeur et la librettiste, au coeur même de cette première partie, ont crée un texte qui réussit à obscurcir les confins entre la pensée consciente et inconsciente du protagoniste d'Erwartung. Il en résulte pour les spectateurs une perception qui, faute de critères précis, confond sans cesse le réel et l'imaginaire. La deuxième partie de la thèse se concentre sur la question de savoir si la disjonction clairement voulue par le libretto se reflète aussi dans la musique d'Erwartllng. Certains moments de la partition (comme par exemple les ostinati) sont mis en avant afin de montrer que le contexte • musical dont ils font respectivement partie subit des changements radicaux chaque fois que ces moments y sont mis en présence. Ainsi, ces moments de la partition ne peuvent plus, du point de Ylie de l'auditeur, être identifiés comme tels dès l'instant qu'ils s'insérent dans un contexte précis; ils n~ peuvent garder une signification stable au long de la pièce. Les conclusions de cette analyse réfutent les argumentations selon lesquelles il y aurait dans Erwartung des relations cohérentes d'ordre motivique et thématique. Cette deuxième partie s'achève par une analyse de quelques moments iIIustratifs tirés de la quatrième scène d'Erwartllng. Il y a bien sûr, de manière ponctuelle, des relations musicales qui semblent motivées, mais ce qui rend Erwartllng vraiment mquiétant et efficace du point de vue dramatique n'est rien d'autre que la façon drastique dont ces moments culminants sont separés un a l'autres. C'est précisement cet écart qui évoques les qualités principales d'Erwartllng: la disjonction syntactique et l'imprévision temporelles.

• • 4

Schoenberg, Pappenheim, and the Expression of Solitude in Erwurlllnl: Op.l7

Chapter 1

Introduction

'rile Expressionist movement in its early stages was centered primarily in Germany and Allstria.

Despite extreme variations in style and approach, Expressionist artists sharcd to SOIllC estent a

sirnilar agenda, embodying a set ofideas and attitides which were as mllch a conullentary on

society and the selfas on art itself. Common to their goal was a seareh for a new and radical

means of self-expression, achieved by the rejection ofmaterialism and a tum to the inner self. • This essential subjectivism resuIted in a complete lack of concern for things external and mmerial, and also for society itself: as Sokel notes, the ExpressionislS displayed a "basic indiffercncc to the

world in its twofold aspect as model and as audience."l Threatened by the rapid scientific and

technical advances occuning already since the 1860's, some artists held to the notion thm thc

individual was alone in a hostile, somewhat chaotic world. They considered all proccsses of

logical thought contrived and irrelevant to this inner truth which they sought to expose. Thc

philosphical views ofFriedrich Nietzsche gave voice to the l'cars of Exprcssionists thm thc

modem world defined by science was in a state ofdecline.2 His belief thalthe creative individual

lWalter Sokel, The Wri1er in Extremis: Expressjoojsm in Gennan Litemture (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1959), p.20.

2por a detailed discussion ofNietzsehe's influence on the Expressionists, see Donald Gordon, • Expressionism" Art and Idea (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1987). 5 • could tmnsfonn this destruction of society by tuming to instinct or innemess was appropriated by Expressionistthollght. As Nietzsche wrote in the preface to The Will [0 Power; Attempt al a

RcvaluatÎon of Ali values (1901):

Genius resides in instinct; goodness likewise. One acts perfectly only when one acts instinctively. Even from the viewpoint of momlity, ail conscious thinking is merely tentative, usually the reverse of morality...It could be prol'ed that ail conscious thinking would wso show a far lower standard of morality than the thinking of the same man when it is directed by his instincts. 3

It is perhaps this most important attribute, that of instinct, which links certain tum-of-the-

century artists under th", broad label ofExpressionism. 1would like to briefly look at sorne early

Expressionistliterary works in order to detennine sorne of Expressionism's identifiable

characteristics, before placing Schoenberg's Erwartllng within this contex!.

One finds Expressonisttendencies as carly as the 1880's and 1890's in the plays of

• Strindberg and Wedekind, whose works are often chamcterized by the use offree-associative

thought and depictions ofdream-states - indeed, bath effective means ofrejecting realism and

logic. The resulting fragmented, broken sentence structures and disconnected thoughts become

defining elements oflater Expressionisttexts. Strindberg himself expounded on how this dream

form acts as a free, largely unstructured vehicle for expression in his work The Dream Play (1901-

02):

In this dream play...the author has sought to reproduce the disconnected but apparently logical form ofa dream. Anything can happen; everything is possible and probable. Time and space do net exist; on a slight groundwork of reality, imagination spins and weaves new patterns made up ofmemories, experiences, unfellered

• 3Ibid., p.33. • 6 fancies, absurdities and improvisutions:

Characters are often treated as personifications through whieh the subjeelive ideas of the aUlhnr

are filtered. This process of abstraction became a means ofalienating "external realily.. .rrom the

essential self."5 A typical result of this abstraction was that eharaeters remained namcless and

hence almost faceless; for example, in Strindberg's The Dceam Play, sueh generie litles as

'Woman,' 'Daughter,' and 'Poet' are employed. Lea notes the same tendeney to make "lypes of

characters" in Strindberg's plays The Father (1887) and Miss Julie (1888).·

The battle of the sexes and themes of erotic tomlent also prevail in this body of literature.

Otto Weininger's influential and widely-read text Geschlecbt und Character (1903) essentially

• posits that woman is without morals and without soul. Paralleling tbese attitudes (although

uninfluenced by Weininger), Crawford points out that the women in works of Strindberg .md

Wedekind are often subjected to this sort of negative representation (most notably the character

ofLulu from Wedekind's 1909 play Erdgeist).7 Continuing this examination of the female psyche

and its relationship to man is Kokoschka's play Murder Hope of Women (1909). A surreal.

dream-like atmosphere prevails here, as the boundaries between man and woman. and life and

death dissolve. Schorske writes: "...a Liebestoten is proc1aimed bere: a passion in which love and

'August Strindberg, Ejgbt Expcessjonjst Plays, trans. Arvid Paulson, (New York University Press, 1972), p.343.

5Sokel, p.S3.

6Henry Lea, "Expressionist Literature and Music," in Expressjonism as an International Literary Phenomenon, ed. Ulrich Weisstein (Paris: Didier, 1973), p.142.

'Dorothy and John Crawford, Expressjonjsm jn 20lh Century Music (Indian University Press, • 1993), p.S. 7

love and murder arc indissolubly bound together. ,,"

• Arthur Schnitzler's work in Vienna also had a considerable impact on carly

Expressionism. His use of the interior monologue (for example in the 1901 story Leutnant Gustl)

cxhibits another means of turning inward to find expression. He also used his eharacters as

vehicles for social commentary; Seymour-Smith dubs him "the analyst of the deeadent culture."·

Sehnitzler's writing is of particular importance to the Expressionist movement because of his

close tics to Freud: the two cOlTesponded from 1906 onward and, according te Seymour-Smith,

were fumiliar with each other's work.

Freud's psychoanalyticaltheories were well-known in progressive Viennese circles,

largely through his founding of the Vienna Psychoanalytieal Society in 1908. Sorne of his mos:

influentiul works had appeared already by this time: Studies on Hysteria (1895, with Breuer), • and The Interpretation of Dreams (1900), for example. In the earliest of these writings, Freud's use of the teern 'instinct' (Trieb) was unre1ated to artistic thought; however he later extended his

definition ofthe word to incorporate the creative urge ofthe artist. 1O A1though it is difficultto

assess the extentto which Expressionist artists were familiar with the work of Freud and/or his

associates (including, for example, David Bach and Max Graf - both members ofthe Vienna

Psychoanulytical Society), there are certain indisputable similarities in the thoughts ofthese

artists and the psychoanalysts, demonstrated in their exploration of similar themes. One may not

"Carl E. Sehorske, Fin-de-Siècle Vienna: Polities and Culture (New York, 1980), p.335.

"Martin Seymour-Smith, Guide to Modern World Literature (London: Wolfe, 1973), p.560.

IOsee Lewis Wickes, "Schoenberg, Erwartung. and the Reception ofPsyehoanalysis in Musical Circles in Vienna until 1910/1911," Studies in Music 23 (University ofWestern Australia, • 1989), p.88-89. • to suggest that Freud had any direct influence on the Expressionist movement as a whole: however, his exploration of unconscious thought and the role of instinct. and the' literature whkh

also employs these themes, can ail be considered a product of that particular hislOl'kal moment.

when the turn to the inner self and to instinct was considered the only way of Iinding and

expressing 'truth:

Expression and Symhol in "Erwartung's" Tfxt

Erwartung's librettist, Marie Pappenheim (1882-1966) was bom in Brntislava (then part of

Austria, but now in the Czech Republic), and lived in Vienna between 1905 and 1933. In addition

to her career in medicine, she also had a broad hackground in literature. and wrote and published • her own poetry. Perhaps even more relevant to her ideas for Erwartllng are the librettist's illdirect connections to Freud and the early history ofpsychoanalysis. As a distant relative of Bertha

Pappenheim, the renowned "Anna 0:' case of Breuer and Freud. she wouId certaillly have knowll

the Studjen iiber Hysterie (1895), if not via the Anna O. case, then at 1east through her brother

and husband, bath well-known psychiatrists in Vienna. Pappenheim's professional and artistic

experiences seem to combine forces in Erwartung. She wrote the text of in the sunUller of 1909

at Schoenberg's request. The origins ofthe idea for the drama have sparked sorne debate;

whether or not Schoenberg suggested the theme to Pappenheim remains somewhat unclear.

Given, however, the artistic atmosphere of Vienna at the tum-of-the-century, it is hardly

surprising that a draIna with such strong Freudian associations should stem from the imagination

• ofeither the author or Schoenberg. Both author and composer were familial' with CllITent liternry 9

current literary and artistic trends. Kokoschka was among the firsl Exprcssionist artists known to • 11 Schoenberg in Vienna. He and Alban Berg were also familiar with, and fond of Strindberg's

plays, as noted by Lea. 12 And of course Schoenberg and Kandinsky maintained close tics, the

latter a great supporter of both Schoenberg's music and paintings.

Pappenheim gained access to Schoenberg's acquaintances through Zcmlinsky in the

summer of 1909. Prior to this however, she was already involved in Iiterary activity; in 1906

Karl Kraus published four of her poems in Die Fackel. 13 Her links to psychoanalysis have

already been diseussed; proof of Schoenberg's knowledge of the field is perhaps not as direct, but

warrants mention nonetheless. Wickes points out that three of Schoenberg's acquaintances,

David Bach, Max Graf, and Hugo Helier were members of the Vienna Psychoanalytical Society.

Graf was particular1y interested in the psychology of the creative process, and in his writings, the • fundamental role of the unconscious and of instinct is exposed yet again: Understanding the creative process implies recognizing the autonomy of unconscious inner Iife...Inspiration, whether in the forro of a musical idea or a musical vision on a 1arger scale, is not the product ofconscious processes of thought but of the unconscious, of the instincts. 14

IIJoan Allen Smith, Schoenberg and His Cirele: A Viennese Portrait (New York: Macmillan, 1986), p.28.

12Lea, p.156.

13JUrg Stenzl, "Die Apokalypse einer Liebe: Arnold Schonbergs Monodram "Erwartung" 1909." in Die Wiener Schule in der Musikgeschichte des 20. Jahrhunderts ,ed. Rudolf Stefan, Sigrid Wiesmann (Bericht über den 2. KongreB der Intemationalen Schonberg-Gesellschaft, 1986), p.64. • 14Wickes, 1'.92. 10

• ofErwaoun~'s Discussions text remain rather Iimiled to ilS depielion in music, pel'haps

because it is regarded as having little literury meril. Alan Lessem notes thalthe texl "Ims nomOl'e

prelension of literary an than its closest contempomneous counterparl in the confcssions of

patients psychoanalyzed by Sigmund Freud," yet he also recognizes that the Iitcrary importance of

such a text p,rows out of "a...general inlerest in manifestations of a near-timeless and richly

textured dimension ofexperience... "15 ln the following chapler, 1will present a discussion uf lhe

text with the intent ofbringing to light certain elements which typify the Expressionist acsthctic.

as weil as cenain elements ofthe Symbolist tradition which emerge. The presence of these

elements, the use ofthe unrepresentable unconscious as a theme, and Schoenberg's own changes

to the text ail give rise to a multi-layered, multi-dimensional work which creates an effectivcly • uncanny experience for the listener. A text about the unconscious automalically assumes a douhlc role, one located in that realm of the unknown, the imaginary, and the Olher in the alienatcd reality

ofthe audience. 1 will also address briefly Schoenberg's very deliberule, yet very scant directions

for the stage, as they also strongly affect the audience's perception ofevents.

Divided into four continuous scenes, Erwaounl: traces the path of an unnamed Woman

through a forest where she is lost and searches for her lover. The brevity of the first three scenes,

in which she wanders aimlessly. 1l:nds a sense of urgency to her search, for nOluntilthe

comparatively lengthy, cathanic final scene is il implied Ihal she emerges from the woods into a

clearing and stumbles upon her lover's corpse. Inlereslingly, Iwo versions of Pappcnheim's leXI

offervery different interpretations ofthe Woman's situation. Stenzl noIes Ihat ull of the mllhor's

15Alan Lessem, Music and Text in the WOrks of Arnold Schoenberl: (Ann Arbor: UMI • Research Press, 1979), p.68. Il • deletions in the finul munuscript serve to mystify, not clarify, the Woman's state of mind: "...die Ver'Jnderungen [sind] fast ausnahmslos von einem einzigen Prinzip bestimmt: Gestricht werden Passagen, in denen die Frau ganz konkret erzllhlt oder beschreibt..." [the changes to the text are based almost without exception on a single principle: the passages which are crossed out are those in which the Woman describes or tells of something completely concrete...].16

Perhaps somewhat pamdoxicully, Pappenheim succumbs to 'reality' ut the end of her final version,

creating a concrete explanation for the dramatic events (the Woman's guilt as her lover's murderer

is establisiled). In Pappenheim's original monologue, it is implied that her lover was having an

uffair und thut his death was related to his liaison. The resulting impression was that "the sense of

illusion or hallucination...is basically cancellcd atthis point by a perspective of underlying

reason."17 Schoenberg substituted his own ending to the final manuscript, however, one which

• leaves the Woman's situation unresolved. It remains unclear, then, if the man was killed, or if in

fact he even exists outside of the protagonist's imagination. A sense of unreality is successfu!ly

maintained to the opera's end.

Various reasons exist for Schoenberg's final changes. About five months before

EŒ.'II1.UIij:'s composition, Strauss's Elektra received its Vienna premiere. Wickes submits that

Schoenberg would have read critic David Bach's comments on Hofmannsthal's use ofFreudian

theories in Elektra:

What has been won...when this chamcter [Elektra] is reduced in her psychology to an insuperably perverse instinct, as is the case with Hofmannsthal? Such a form ofpsychoanalytical causation

16Stenzl. p.65, my translation.

17Wickes. p.97. See aise Stenzl. pp.64-5 for examples ofthe deletions made by Schoenberg to • Pappenheim's text 12

results only in a loss of tragic impulse...What remains is simply • 'instinct as a facl' in itself and Elektra without any 'possibility of shaping her own fate', her 'downfal1' merely 'a physiological utility. dM

Bach's problem resided in Hofmannsthal's direct use of Frcud's psychoanlytic theorics, thcrchy

leaving "no room for dynamic character development or processes of tragic psychological

downfal1," which ultimately "denies the work its real (ethical) function as a work of arl ... "l"

Schoenberg's proposed familiarity with Bach's critique may accollnt partly for his own

changes to Pappenheim's tex!. By exposing the reasons behind the Woman's hysteria and l'car, hy

making real a situation which otherwise would be construed as unreal, Pappenheim's original

ending risked reducing the drama to vn attempted psychoanalytic case study. Schoenberg found

the result unsatisfying; as Newlin states, upon reading this last section, Schoenberg instinctual1y

• found "something in the text that didn't seem to fit the res!. "20 Pappenheim later recognized the

effect of the changes, and perhaps a1so justified her own, more concrete, ending when she said

that "as a result ofthese cuts ..., the mystical, or, shal1 we say, hal1ucinatory aspect was

emphasized, while 1was by no means so sure that a real event was not involved."21 Despitc

Pappenheim's reservations about the revised text, Schoenberg felt the changes werc neccssary to

18David Bach, 'Elektra von Richard Strauss', in Arbeiter-Zeitung, Wien, Jg. 21, No.85; Freitag, 26 Miirz 1909, pp.l-2, as cited in Wickes, p.98. Also revealing are Freud's comments on the subject, as noted in the above article: "The art ofthe poet (as Bach very correctly stated...just a few days ago ... does not consist of finding and dealing with problems...Rather, the poet's art consists of extracting poetic effects out of such problems...", p.98.

19Ibid., p.98.

2"Dika NewIin, Schoenberg Remembered (New York: Pendragon Press, 1980), p.21 1. • 21Letter from Pappenheim to Kirchmeyer, as cited in Wickes, p.97. 13 • avoid reducing lhe Woman's slale 10 a logical, 'eonseious' one; in lhis way the drama remains on a purely unconscious levellhroughoul. This ending, by refusing 10 succumb to a definitive

conclusion, is one of lhe means by which the boundary belween real and imaginary is blurred.

The anlicipalion which drives forth lhe firsllhree scenes poises lhe audience for sorne evenlual

c1arificalion of the evenls. But expectations are thwarted: the lislener is forced 10 queslion lhe

'ITUlh' of drama, and made 10 recognize lhalthe entire drama operates on a purely psychicallevel.

Several authors have argued thal Erwartung's text falls into clearly marked sections;

Penney, for instance, imposes dramatie divisions on the monologue, breaking it into frequent

shifls belween illusion and reality.22 These divisions, however, presuppose thatthe Woman is

conscious of the events, thatthe situation is somehow real - a supposition which ignores the

author's (in this case Schoenberg's) intenl. The fragmented, erratic nature of the text rejects a • strict opposition belween reality and illusion; moments which seem realto the Woman are quickly undermined by her own hallucinatory state. Indeed, Schoenberg's statementthat "the

whole drama can be understood as a nightmare" indicates the absence of any 'reality'; rather, it

seems lhat our sense of reality was meant to be thrown into question. 23

Falck's divisions are less extreme; he perceives the text in terms of shifls between

'autologue' (or 'selbstgesprUch'), dialogue, and moments of'memory', the latter being associated

with refercnces to the garden, moon, and wall, for example. His analysis is based on a direct

22Diane Penney, Schoenberg's Janus-work "Erwartung": Ils musico-dramatic structure and relationship to the melodrama and Lied traditions (Ph.D. dissertation, University ofNorth Texas, UMI Research Press, 1989), p.340.

2JStein, p.139. Schoenberg wrote this in his directions for a 1930 performance ofErwartung • in Berlin. 14 • comparison to the symptoms exhibited by Anna O.; thus, according to him. the Woman's references to these concrete images are "memory episodes" which "represent deep-seated

experience of the kind that would need to be purged in a c1assic psychoanalytic cnre."l' While

such an analysis runs the risk ofreducing the drama to a case study rather than a piece of

liternture, the association of memory with certain concrete references provides an illleresting

means ofdetermining the role of these symbols within the dmma. Certain concrete images in the

text make reference to the outside influences which certainly helped to shape the drama (such as

the ideas ofFreud, as demonstrnted in Falck's analysis); Penney also notes, for example, that the

description of'mushrooms with large yellow eyes' which stare at the Woman relates to Freud

(albeit superficially), as Freud was fond of the 'Herrenpilze' which grew in the Vicnna woods."

Such images, however, also have their own signifieance wilhin the smaller context of the drama • and other contemperaneous literature, and il is the repetilive use of some of these images which 1 will presenùy address, before interpreting their use in the light of both Symbolist and

Expressionist traditions.

As mentioned previously, Falck associates Erwartunll's moon with the Woman's lapses

into memory (or past). More than Ihis, however, the image of the moon guides the Woman

through the darkness ofthe woods at the same time as it is established as a symbol of impending

horror. Il is thus not confined to episodes ofm;:mory, but serves to blur the past/present

dichotomy by ils association with memory together with ils immediate presence. The Woman's

24Robert Falck, "Marie Pappenheim, Schoenberg, and the Studjen Über Hysterie," in GenmlD 1jterniUre and Music: An Aesthetjc Fusion 1890-1989, ed. C. Reschke, H. Pollack (Houston German Studies: Wilhelm Fink, 1992), p.138.

• 2SPenney, p.65. 15 • fear is often expressed through her mention of the moonlight, as demonstrated in Scene 1with 11er contradictory lines: "...here at leasi it's bright... " followed immediately by "The moon was so

bright earlier." Later this horror becomes stronger: "The moon is in the dusk...the moon is full of

horror." The moon is the only lightto guide her, and these remarks reveal not only 11er feur, but

the presence ofa terror which the Woman at this point only senses. Again, with her words "And

this pale moon...this boundless death pallor," the allusion to death is made before the woman

herself realizes the presence ofdeath. It is the moonlight in the founh scene which finully

illuminates - and forces her to recognize - her lover's body. Her first words after her discovery

("That is he!") are "the moonlight...," and, when the body does not disappear as she wills it to, she

continues "the moon is malicious," equating ils presence with the presence of the corpse. The

moon becomes the symbol which brings her together with her lover, yet in forcing her to • recognize his body, it also makes her realize their separation. The moon illuminates not only this denth/life dichotomy, but also one of day and night; nt

the exact moment where the Woman faiters in her thoughts of the 'other' woman ("no, no...my

only sweetheart...not that...Oh, the moon staggers..."), the light begins to change, as does the

nature of her speech. Stenzl notes that as her 'conversation' with the man begins, the approach of

dawn threatens to eut offher contact with him, and she articulates her panic about moming's

arrivai:

Aus der verkllirten Vergangenheit, die durch die Gegenwart eines toten Geliebten brutal abgeschlossen wurde, bricht am SchluB die Frage nach dem Morgen, nach der Zukunft: "Liebster,..der Morgen kommt.•.Was soli ich alleine hier tun...?" [Out ofthe transfigured past, which was brutally severed from the present through the dead • lover, breaks in the end the question ofthe moming, ofthe future: 16 • "My love... the morning eomes...what should 1do here alone,?"lh The past is transformed, not only through her speech, but in her sudden l'car that night is ending -

with the morning, both the moon, and her lover, disappear. The moon's connection to the

presence of the body is further demonstrated in the second scene. ln complete darkness, the

Woman here thinks she has stumbled upon a body. The moon's absence here can be Iinked to the

absence of the 'real' body.

The symbolic treatment of the moon in Erwartung in sorne ways subsumes various

literary techniques cfSchoenberg's time. For example, the moon as a symbol of romance, nature.

and peace often prevailed in texts steillming l'rom the Romantic-symbolist tradition. Dehmel's

poem Verkl1irte Nacht was set to music by Schoenberg in 1899; in this poem, the moon is a

naturalistic. consistent element in the quickly-changing world of two lovers. Similarly• • Brinkmann notes that in Dehmel's poem "Erwartung" (set by Schoenberg in 1899, op.2. no.l) "Nature is portrayed as an artistic arrangement...the moon shines by means of its renection and

not directly.. .'027 ln Erwartung, op.17, the moon's romantic connotations are rather limited to the

'reunification' of the loyers in its light. However. the notion that it does not shine directly. as in

Dehmel's poern. eontributes to its ambiguous and enigmatic symbolic status. ln the stage

directions. it is indieated only that "moonlight illuminates roads and fields". but the audience

does not see the moon itself. This is probably partly because of its enigmatic character - its light

is at once a comfort to the woman and a menace. dependent on the Woman's nuctuating states of

26Stenzl. p.67. rny translation.

27Reinhold Brinkmann, "The Lyric as Paradigm: Poetry and the Foundation of Arnold • Schoenberg's New Music" in German Literature and Music.... p.98. 17 • moon is more typical ofExpressionist effects; as Penney notes, the moon as a symbol of love is, in Erwaouo!:, "twisted to one of lunacy."28 Aiso revealing is the Woman's fearful description of the

moon in the fourth scene, because it indirectly alludes to her own fear: "Because it is bloodless il

paints red blood." The strong colour imagery is typical also ofExpressionist painting, and Hans

Hollander notes the symbolic significance of colour in Expressionism:

Franz Marcs biaue, rote, und schwarze Pferde wollen nicht im realistischen Sinne verstanden sein...Die Farbe wird hier zum Symbol daflir, wie sich der Wald und das Pferd selber fühlen. [Marc's blue, red, and black horses cannot be understood in the realistic sense...the colours are here as a symbol for how the forest and the horse understand themselves.]29

Schoenberg painted his own vision of the stage of Erwaoung; eight different drawings

show a faceless figure in a wood. The path of light falls on one or the other side of the painting,

• but no moon is painted.30 The fact that the moon itself is not seen (in these paintings or onstage)

allests to ilS importance as a symbolic, rather than a concrete presence. To the audience, only the

path oflight and the Woman's words are able to evoke the moon's image.

Aiso significant are the confines ofthe garden wall (versus the openness ofthe forest),

which is another recurring image in the text ofErwartung. (Schorske infuses the image of the

garden wall with meaning by suggesting that the forest in Erwartung is a figurative extension of

2llPenney, p.65.

~ans Hollander, Die Musjk jn der Kulturgeschichte des Ig,und 20 lahrhunderts (Këln: Arnold Vo1ke, 1967), p.73, my translation. The blood-red moon as symbol of horror also appears in Berg's Wozzeck. Other strong colour symbolism in Erwartung includes references to yellow mushrooms, white walls, and red and white skin and clothing for the characters.

»rhomas Zaunschirm, ed. Arnold Schoenberg: Pajntings and Drawjngs (Klagenfurt: Ritter • Verlag, 1992), pp.308-13. 18 • the garden [representing love] in George's "Das Buch der HUngenden Glirlen")." The garden walls represent security for the Woman • within this garden she was safe with her lover. Another

dichotomy is set up, then, between the safety ofthe walls and her fear of the forest whkh lies

beyond them (as Schoenberg wrote in 1930, "It is essential for the woman to be seen always in

the forest, 50 that people realize that she is afraid of it!"3'). Her first mention of the garden OCCUI'S

in Scene 1: "Oh, our garden...the flowers forhim are surely withered." Already with these wOl'ds

we sense the notion ofdeath and decay, and thus on a larger level. the garden is not only a place

where her 'memories' reside (as suggested by Falck) but both a means of foreshadowing dealh.

and also ofcreating a past for the Woman. In the fourth scene she sings "1 keptlooking and

waiting...over the garden wall towards you." In this last scene it becomes apparent how Ihe

meaning ofthe garden wall, initially a symbol of peace for the Woman, has also changed to signify • their separation. Once a symbol of unity, now of separation, it reinforces the confusion betwccn past and present; what seemed to the Woman to be a stable image, a pleasanl memory, in the cnd

also becomes a barrier from her lover.

Such symbolic uses ofconcrete images suggests that the Symbolist literary tradition, as

weil as the Expressionists, have informed the text ofErwartung. The Expressionist movemcnl

certainly grew out ofthe former; Sokel writes that "...Expressionism descends from the "musical"

31Schorske, p.363.

3'Stein, p.139. Schoenberg's paintings also suggest the Woman's fear, and the power of the forest over her. In one particularly effective drawing, she is seen on the edge of a strip of light, but still encompassed by darkness, and her body is bending in the direction of the trees, as though • controlled by iL 19 • or "leitmotiv" symbolism of Flaubert, Ibsen, Maeterlinck, and the Symbolist poets... ,,33 and similarly, Hollander notes that "Mystizismus und Symbolismus sind im Expressionismus immer

zu Haus gcwesen ..." [Mysticism and Symbolism have always been 'at home' in Expressionism].34

Pappenheim may weil have been familiar with Schoenberg's earlier works, (for example, as

mentioned, Verkllirte Nacht opA, based on a text by Dehmel, and "Erwartung" op.2 no.I, with a

text also by Dehmel, and Pelleas und Melisande op.S, based on a text by Maeterlinck).

Grounded in the Romantic-symbolist tradition, the texts on which these works are based possess

a symbolically-charged language, one which is evocative but does not make meaning explicit. In

Symbolist poetry, characters speak and situations occur in a way which implies but does not

make concrete - meaning is made c1ear only indirectly. Kugel describes the resulting impression

on the reader as the symbolist "technique of strangeness," a technique which emerges through the • unspoken and unknown elements ofa poem, and which "Ieaves [the reader] with the feeling of having '",itnessed something mysterious and utterly strange."35 On a locallevel, it becomes

evident that certain images in the Woman's lines possess a Symbolist slant - for example, in the

use ofa 'malicious' moon which 'paints red'. Writing about Dehmel's "Erwartung" (op.2, no.l),

Brinkmann says that

the predominance ofrather powerful adjectives over nouns...is characterstic of the imagery of these verses written at the crossroads ofSymbolism and Jugendstil. These are adjectives that stress the visual, modifying their objects by putting them in a

33Sokel, pA2.

34Hollander, p.73, my translation.

35James Kugel, The Technigues of Strangeness in Svrnbolist Poetry (New Haven: Yale • University Press, 1971), p.S. 20 • precious light. 36 Although most of Erwanllni:'S language is extremely direct ,lI1d not so descriptive, tlwre

are several moments which lapse into a more descriptive, poetie style, and in so doing, stress the

visual aspect of the drama. In her 'dialogue' with her lover, the Woman occomes almost obsessed

with the colours white and red; acts of hatred and love are expressed through the symbolic

association with these colours: "the witch, the hussy...the woman with the white anns...you love

them, those white arms...as you kiss them red... I'll drag her by her white anns." The tinal

moments of the drama also appeal intensely to one's sense of the visual: "in this dremn without

limits or colours.....ali the colours of the world shone from your eyes..light will come for

everyone but me alone in my darkness" and "A thousand people pass by...lhey're ail alive, lhcir

eyes shine your kiss is like a beacon in my darkness...my lips bum and glow." Hcre, the • Woman's thoughts transcend her immediate situation - she focusses not on the corpse or her own fear but on the ideas oflight, darkness, and colour as symbols of her alienation from the outer

world. The opposition and play of light and dark, night and day, is important in Erwartuni: (as

demonstrated in the discussion of the moon's role); with each repetition they gradually assume a

symbolic significance as the drama unfolds. These repetitions are spomaneous, unconsciolls to

the Woman, and yet the repetitions indicate to the listener thatthe images are given symbolic

meaning through the Woman's voice (for example, with the horror-filled moon). ft is in part

through the symbolic repetitions which run through the text that the Woman's fate is hintcd at .

that of her ultimate realization ofdeath.

Susan Youens further clarifies the importance of symbolic repetition, as found in

• 36Brinkmann, p.99. 21 • Maeterlinck's Pelléas et Mélisande; Maeterlinck creates his heavily fatalistic atmospheres in part by means of texlualleitmotifs...As the dramatis personae echo earlier words and actions, they unwittingly demonstrate the inexorability of Destiny's designs. 37

Although few pamllels can be drawn between the two texts, Erwartunl: possesses this mood of

fatality, not only because of the outward appearance of the Woman and the stage, but also

through her texl. Because very liule is made explicitto the audience in the way of a concrete

story here, we rely on the Woman's descriptive language, and on her perceptions offear to create

our own fear; her bodily gestures and her descriptions of things not seen by us (for example, the

mocn, the wall, the other woman, shadows, the body itself) - these things, these images

necessarily become symbols for her breakdown, as they reappear inconsistently, under different

• guises, throughout the drarna.

There is, however, a significant difference between Erwartllng and the texts of the

Symbolist writers, one which roots Erwartunl: more firmly in the Expressionist tradition. Because

it is set as a monologue, Erwartung deals with the isolation and alienation ofa single being; the

Woman automatically subsumes the role ofail other characters. Her own fate, and those images

which hint at her fate must emerge through her voice alone and not through any explicit narration

or real dialogue; this dramatic internalization is a specifically Expressionistic trait. Ali the

circumstances, then, revolve around the Woman - she is central to them and driven by them, and

we are only permiued to sec the outer circumstances from her highly subjective, inner world (her

unconscious). Lukacs clarifies this notion when discussing the "essence" ofthe Expressionisl

37Susan Youens, "An Unseen Player: Destiny in Pelléas et Mélisande," in Readjng Opera, ed. • A.Groos and R.Parker, p.74. 22 • work and how it is achieved. According to him, the Impressionists and Symbolisls ...still preserved the general structure of immediate realily...they confronted the subject as an external world...The re"ersallhat expressionism seeks to effect was that of transferring the process of creation .. .into the structure of the work itself... He [the Expressionist] does this in the objective forms..by presenting only this experiential centre as relÙity, and grouping everything else around this centre, seen only from this slUndpoint.'"

Lukacs notes that the Symbolists and Expressionists shared cenain aesthetics. For inslance, both

were concemed with the effect of 'objective reality' on the subject of their drama. This is ccnainly

evident in Erwartung: the Woman can also be seen as an isolated, alienated eharacter, forccd to

withdraw from the conscious world because her hysteria, her unconscious thoughts could find no

expression there. Lukacs, however, voices the fundamental difference belwcen Symbolisls and

Expressionists, that difference which Erwanung makes clear:

...with these latter [symbolists and impressionists] (e.g. • Maeterlinck) objective relÙity actually disappears, giving way to the impression il makes on the subject, such as abstract fear, elc., whereas the expressionist dramatists place the writer himself on the stage as central character, and portrays ail the other actors only from his point ofview - exclusively as whatthey are for this central character (the expressionist 'essence').3'

Between Pappenheim and Schoenberg's changes, the text of Erwanun~ can be pcrcdved

as an amaIgam of trends which appeared around the turn-of-the-century. The unnamed Woman is

38Georg Lukacs, Essays on Realism, trans. David Fembach (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1980), p.105-06.

3"Ibid. Incidentally, this is aIse a difference which separates Erwammg from Salome, two works which are frequently compared because of the 'hysterical' woman as the central character. Unlike Salome, though, Erwartung's Woman is somehow more sympathetic: she is perceived as a victim ofcircumslances beyond her control. Crawford notes, however, that "the Symbolisl~ regarded SaIome...as a perfect incarnation ofthe fatal, man-destroying woman...", a label which • seems inappropriate for ErwaTltmg's bewildered protagonist. (Crawford, p.32). 23 • the true creation of the early generation of Expr(.ssionists who were the firstto put symbols of the unconscious, dreams, and psychoanalysis into play (the laller aspect most specifically in the works

of Schnitzler); as Crawford states, "Ihe 'inner necessily' so many expressionist anists followed is

closely relatcd to the new primacy of psychology."'o But the monodrama goes beyond a mere

representation ofa Freudian-based character by drawing also on various literary traditions. The

protagonist is given depth through a language which alternates between being merely evocative

and extremely direct. Certain images, by being repeated, are broughtlo life and given symbolic

significance through the Woman's voice; paradoxically, while she gives voice to these images,

they are also the forces which cause her fear and thus control her actions, gestures, and emotions.

Far from being a straightforward 'case study', then, Erwart!!n~'s text, by appropriating both

psychoanalytic components and various lilerary techniques, possesses man)' dimensions of • expression, ail effectively filtercd through a single voice.

• OOlbid., p.S. 24

• Chapter 2

The Pursuit of Expression: "Erwartung's" Musical Language

The music of Erwartung was written in just seventeen days, betwcen August 27 nnd Septembcr

12, 1909. Rosen considers it "one of the most effective, ensily ncccssiblc, nnd immcdintely

convincing of Schoenberg's works" while nt the same time, the "appnrently totnl freedom from

the requirements of musical form" deem it "inexplicable and incontrovertible."41 By no menns

contradictory, these remarks reveal how Erwartung on the one hand provides a degree of

comprehensibility to which the listener can relate, but on the other, a musical complexity which

defies categorization and hence, satisfactory explanntion. Its first performance in June 1924

evoked a variety ofstrong responses which often emphasized this elusive quality of the work; for

• example, the critic Paul Riesenfeld wrote:

SchOnberg protestiert so sehr gegen der Opemkitsch, daB er seine sogennante Musik auBerhalb jedes Zusammenhanges mit seelischem Leben oder szenischen Vorglingen lliBt..." [Schocuberg protests so much against opera 'kitsch' that he leaves his so-called music outside of any connections with spirituallife or dramatic events.]'2

Another critic, Erich Steinhard, was more favourably impressed:

Neu ist nur die ungeheur dichte Konzentrierung auf einen Seelenzustand und die musikalische Ausdrucksintensitlit, die die literarische Fundierung überhaupt vergessen IliBt. [New is the

41Charles Rosen, Arnold Schoenberg, (New York: Viking Press, 1975), p.39.

42Paul Riesenfeld, "Das erste Internationale Musikfest in Prag", in: Signale rur die musikalische Welt, Berlin, Juli 1924, p.l106-7, cited in Laborda, Studien zu SchOnbergs • Monodram "Erwartung" Op.17, (LaaberVerlag, 1981), p.29, my translation. "

25

tremendous density of foeus towards a spiritual condition and • expressive intensity of musie which overlooks its literary foundation.]'3

The authors of the more positive critiques consistent1y realized the importance and originality of

Schoenberg's language, one, as many contemporary writers have pointed out, which seems as

spontaneous and instinctual as the text itself. Schoenberg's own remarks on the relationship of

the instinctual drives of the unconscious to creativity shed light on his compositional process:

The creativity of the artist is instinctive. The conscious has liule influence upon il. The artist has the feeling as if,What he is doing were dictated to him. As if he were doing it only according to a force within himself. He does not know whether it is new or old, good or bad, beautiful or ugly. He feels only the instinct, which he must obey...Who would want to dare to differentiate between right and wrong in the case of instinct, in the case of the unconscious'r4

Written in 191 l, these comments correspond to the period in Schoenberg's life when he sought • new forms of musical expœssion; indeed, even in earlier works (such as Das Buch der hüngenden Gürlen op.15), the composer had already abandoned the vestiges ofconventional

harmonic language. The instinctual process of which he speaks results in music which is also

completcly frced from traditional forrns. Critics recognized the lack of musical stabiIity; such

observations in the above reviews that Schoenberg's music is unconnected to

dramatic/spirituallIiterary events (whether intended negatively or not) suggest that the music

transcends textual reprcsentation or mirroring, and exists rather on its own, somehow

ungraspable level. Vpon hearing Erwartung, the firs! impression (as arliculated by the above

43Erich Steinhard, Die Musik, XVYII, StuttgartlBerlinlLeipzig, August 1924, p.846, cited in Laborda, p.28-9. • 44Schoenberg, Harmonielehrc, Wien 191 III966, p.497, as cited in Wickes, p.88. 26 • reviews) is one of musical discontinuity; yet, onc also senses a connection between music and text which makes it immediately comprehensible. As discussed in the previous ehapter,

Schoenberg's changes to the text create a drama which appears to unfold in the realm of the

unconscious, that is, one which leaves the audience undecided about the actual reality of thc

dramatic events. Schoenberg proceeded to translate this idea into music, oftcn prevcnting thc

listener l'rom deciding on the function of various musical events. As Oliver Neighbour writes:

"He [Schoenberg] wanted to leave behind him concentration on separate feelings in unreal

isolation, along with the associated musical structures controlled by conscious logic... "4~

In the following discussion, 1will examine various aspects of Schoenberg's musical

language, including the motivic construction, orchestration, and texture. Analyses of Erwartung

have tended to isolate particular motives and focus on their repetition as a unifying device. • These motives are also frequently given literary associations as a means of drawing together the text and music. In the first part, then, 1will use sorne of these analyses with the intent of

showing how the interpretation of such motives as unifying clements is deceptive and, indeed,

opposes what is perceived by the listener. Structural clements are undoubtedly present, however

one can question whether they were intended to provide a sense of unity, or if they in fact do the

opposite: resist the notion of unity, making the listener question their function a~ signifying,

representational clements. As Rosen writes,

...in music before Schoenberg, each separate occurrence of a motif connects with the others either as part of a larger continuity or by being placed in a context that c1early recalls...its other appearances...but this continuity and similarity are both refused us

450liver Neighbour, "Erwartung" in The New Grove Dictionary of Opera, ed. Stanley Sadie • (London: Macmillan, 1992), p.75. 27

by Schoenberg. Every eighteenth-century work...is full of rising • and descending thirds, but nothing permits us to claim this as a motif until it is contextually given this status within the work, and for this there must be a confluence of rhythm, harmony, and texture lacking in Erwartung. 46

Through the writings of Dahlhaus47 and Stenzl, it becomes apparent that motivic connections

provide insights into tlie formai layout of the work, at the same time as their ambiguity does not

permit conventional interpretation. Through constantly changing orchestration, and linear and

vertical treatment of textures, the manipulation of so-called motives throws their meaning as

connective clements into confusion. l will begin by focussing on the first three scenes, showing

the impossibility of attaching specifie motives to specifie textual ideas. This discussion will

expand on Dahlhaus's notion that individuallines are separately conceived and developed; this

individuality often becomes manifest in the vocal line. l will also discuss the presence of various • ostinati in Erwartung, and their ability to provide stability on a local level and to destroy musical continuity over the course ofthe work especially when perceived in light of dramatic events.

In the last part of the chapter, l will proceed to look at several key (climactic) moments in

the fourth scene which further demonstrate how Schoenberg abandons convention. With the

discovery of the dead body, Erwartung's Woman experiences a heightened fear and lapses

continually into references to the pas!. Drawing partly on T.W. Adomo's comments, l will look

at how her erratic text becomes manifest in the music, destroying the notion of temporal

continuity.

46Rosen, pAl

47Carl Dahlhaus, "Expressive principle and orchestral polyphony in Schoenberg's Erwartung," in Schoenberg and the New Music, trans. D.Puffett, (London: Cambridge University Press, • 1987). 28

Pitches and Musical Gestures in Scenes I·III

• The first three scenes of Erwartung are generally regarded as an introduction, or n wny into the

larger, eathartic fourth seene:

Diese drei Eingangsszenen zeigen drei Stationen auf dem Gnng dureh den Wald, dem Gnng nueh zum Zentrum des Werkes... [These three opening seenes aet as three stations on the path through the woods, the path also to the center of the workV"

By examining sorne of the motivie links in the firstthree seenes, we sec how these connections

create elements of coherence in the work, but also how their constant transformation blurs their

clear function as motives. While able to provide unity on one level, connective elenlents also

show a disparity between vocal and orehestrallines; form here is achieved by this stress on the

difference, not the similarities, among the various voiees. The listener often experiences

• foremost the individuality ofthe voices (most often that ofthe singer) in Erwartung. What seems

to bind the work, rather than motivic relations, is the instinctive immediacy of the voice and

instruments. We hear musical discontinuity, since the sounds which arc in the foreground are

seemingly disjointed and formless, and the images in the text demand this sort of disunified

musical surface. Cnly doser musical analysis reveals how musical events serve at once to unify

through the repetition of certain gestures, and to destroy unity by forcing together opposing

compositional processes (a point to which 1wil1later retum). Dahlhaus suggests that the

polyphonie writing does not eonsist only ofa series of motives which draw together the voices,

but that it becomes a form-building expressive device: "Vocalline, instrumental Hauptstimmc,

Nebenstimme and accompaniment - to use a crude classification - form a hierarchy and are

• 48Stenzl, p.66, my translation. 29 • distinguished from one another aecording to the differing importance of their role in the polyphonic discourse..." Centralto the work's construction, then, is "th~ idea of an

expressiveness unfolded polyphonically."49

Motives refer to the presence of self-contained melodic ideas which recur throughout a

work, retaining their identity largely through intervallic content and contour.lO Although certain

collections of pitch cells do recur frequently throughoutthe work, 1will argue that their function

as creators of unity and continuity is shallered by their recurrences in radically different musical

contexts; for examplc changes in texture, register, and instrumentation. The presence ofthese

pitch cells is also often overshadowed by musical ideas which resemble more strongly motives

(or figures) rather than cells by retaining an identifiable shape and contour without necessarily

containing the same pitch and/or intervallic content with each appearance. • Both Lessemll and Buchananl2 identify several key pitch cells which appear to constitute the main part of the work's thematic material. The cells are discussed in terms of their Iinear

arrangement and their recurrences in both instrumental and vocal parts. Through such analysis,

both authors intend to show Erwartung's structural coherence, by stressing the repetition ofthese

pitches within each section. Such analyses ignore the ability ofthese figures to inform the

49Dahlhaus, p.I53-54.

lOAccording to William Drabkin, the term motive is "most often thought ofin rnelodic terms, and it is this aspect of motive that is connoted by the term figure." "Motive" in The New Grove Dictionarv of Music and Musicians (London: MacMillan Press, 1981), p.648.

l'Alan Lessem, Music and Text in the Works of Arnold Schoenberg, (UMI Research Press, 1979). For Lessem's analysis ofErwartung, see pp.76-95.

'2Herbert Buchanan, "A Key to Schoenberg's Erwartung Op. 17," Journal ofthe American • Musicological Society 20 (1967), p.434-49. 30 • structure and changing expressiveness of the work through their difference in each appearance. 1 have chosen one cell (identified by both Buchanan and Lessem) which seems particularly

prevalent in order to demonstmte Schoenberg's polyphonic technique. 1will first examine

several places where this cell recurs to discuss how it can be interpreted other than as a technique

which creates continuity.

Lessem's cells a' and a1which he calls 'motivic cells') correspond to what Buchanan

derives from the transitional material of Schoenberg's Op.6 no.6 song"Am Wegrand" which is,

of course, quoted in the fourth scene of Erwartung (1 will use cell a as an example for the

following discussion, simply calling it 'a').

6'11::. 1

• ~1~/;j"I"~'Ji .. ~ , c.el/'a.,'

Cell 'a', in Lessem's analysis, occurs at mm. 1-2 (oboe), mm.6-7 (oboe and hom), mm.l5-16

(voice), mm. 19-20 (bass and voice), and mm.24-26 (flutes). In the first scene, the linear

connections made from this cell stem fonu the initial measures ofthe work. This does not,

however, account for the sudden shifts in texture and in vertical/horizontal writing which later

include this pitch cell. By asserting that the opening measures contain "the opera's full motivic

substance"SJ Lessem implies that all material which follows derives solely from this cell and that • SJLessem, p.79. 31 • the work is granted continuity by building systematically on il. For instance, Lessem's example Il uses three occt:rrences ofcell 'a' (mm.6-7, mm.lS-16, mm. 19-20). 1would argue that, given

the reappearance of this ccli within extremely different textural contexts, (as weil as its

differences on a smaller level with each appearance) it can no longer be identified as a 'unifying'

factor. That this cell exists here is indisputable (the recurrence of these same pitches here is

certainly not coincidenta1); however, the different contexts of their appearances serves to obscure

their connections from view, thereby confusing our sense ofcontinuity.

In mm.6-7, for example, cell 'a' occurs overlapping from the oboe to the horn (that is, d

and c# sound in the oboe, m.6, and b flat as the last note of the horn in m.7). •

The significance of these two measures, however, goes beyond the mere presence ofthese three

pitches as heard in the oboe and horn. What is audibly perceptible here is not tbis cell, but rather

the spacing, shape, and rhythm of the two Hauptstimme voices wbich contain its pitches. Instead

of restricting the analysis of mm.6-7 to their pitch content, 1would suggest that the shape ofthe

oboe and horn !ines create a musical gesture wbich is not dependent on any specific pitches.

Measure 6 alone presents tbis gesture (marked 'sehr zan'), the vertical space of which is then

• widened in the horn in m.7, while the basic shape and rhythm are retained. As both instruments 32 • are designated 'Hauptstimme,' what we hear, rather than the pitches of 'a' divided among the two voices, is an immediate repetition of a four-note gesture. In Ught of the Woman's text. the

gesture pennits a semantic interpretation: the tendemess of the oboe (over her words of fcar 'dic

Stamme schimmem...wic Birken!') seem~ to anticipate her ensuing words of wistful

remembrance ('oh unser Garten...'). Dahlhaus suggests that "one means of imposing unity on

sharp contrasts is to interlock the end of one section with the beginning of the next. ,,54 The

Woman's words in m.6 are the completion of her thoughts in the present tense; contrast ensues

with her sudden collapse into the past. The end of tbis sectiop. of text is interlocked with the

presentation of the tender instrumental gesture in both measures.

Similarly, 'a' appears at m.16 in the voice (see Ex.3 below). The presence of these

pitches occurs in a very different context here when compared with mm.6-7. however. since the • pitches d. c#, and a# all occur in the same part (the vocal line); the presence of these pitches is aIso obscured by a rising figure in the viaUn, and by the onset of an ostinato in the harp and

celesta. The intervening pitches b and c# (on the word "frUher") also interrupt the immediate

completion of the cell. N.. 110 fx,3 de

; • '" ., 1 hi.M hl...ri 'k • I!H. ; T' l /' allll ...t •••der, l'''Mal, th'hl '.r Ih:8 '1.' .. - '5 ;~,;, , ~ "'Ë::' l , RI •. der.Xond•'OutrillSor_ .....0u::hU•• ..".. r '~î) Bach oaSI'1i I.1UJ1Io ''''D. , • S4Dahlhaus. p.152. Dahlhaus offers a similar musicalltexuai interpretation of mm.241-42. 33 • Again, as suggested earlier, 1wou Id submit thatthe vocalline in these measures is audibly notable, not for the presence of these particular pitchcs, but for the shape of the line which

envelopes them. The contour of the voice part is comparable to the gestures heard in mm.6-7

(the accompanying violin line is also marked 'zart', creating a similar affect as heard in the earlier

measures), although the vertical space is in m.16 considerably narrowed. Also, aside from the

shape of the !ine, the pitch succession d-c#-b in m.16 repeats the pitches of the oboe in m.6.

When compared to mm.! 9-20, the exp!icitness of the cell is cast further into doubt. Here,

the voice sings two of its pitches (a# and c#); Lessem submits that the 'd'in the bass completes

the presence of the cell (it should also be noted, though, that the voice continues to an 'a' natural,

also completing the cell in itself). Perhaps more striking in this passage, however, are the various

linear figures which are clearly derived from the oboelhom !ines in mm.6-7. For instance, the • vocalline at mm. 19-20 is a variant of the oboe and horn figures, as is the solo viola figure (contracted in time). Both contain an upward leap of a seventh, followed by a descent in thirds

(this descent is clear in the horn at n1."n.7-8).

Ex.lf

• 34 • Also noteworthy is the momentary disguising of these lineur connections through a striking change in the texture occurring at m.l9. The group of vertically construcied chords (m.l9 in the

strings) followed by sudden stillness in the orchestra momentarily draws ~lttention away from the

voice part (see EX.5 below). Here is an instance of the individuality among the various voiccs of

which Dahlhaus spoke, where heterogeneous processes are forced togethcr. Laborda notes thm

in m.l9, the polyphonic Hallptstimme in the violas is pulled into the vertical construction of

chords in the strings, creating a hannonic and rhythmic integration of horizontal and vertical

structures:

Die horizontale Dimension der Melodik in der Hauptstimme Hillt sich in die Vertikale der Begleitung zur Bildung vieltoniger Kliinge integrieren. Daraus resultiert eine hannonische Integration beider Dimensionen. (The horizontal dimension of the music in the 'Hauptstimme' is integrated in the vertical construction of the chords. From this results a hannonic integration ofboth • dimensions.55 bX . .5

1Ja. IIIIr41. Gril· • 1... lIlil i1H'1Il Li.. . bu. lied .. ~.I 4., U.l.O.....lI,t.I

• SSLaborda. p.204. 35 • The sudden presence of these chords, logether with the sudden cessation of motion in m.20 are other means by which Schoenberg abandons convention, momentarily pulling attention away

from the horizontal connections. Ail else ceases to exist in the Woman's eerie moment ofdesire

('nicht sprechen...es ist so stiG bei dir').

My intent in examining these measures has been to show how the function of cell 'a' as a

unifying clement remains unclear: much of its importance lies in its ambiguity and malleability,

and ils ability, as Dahlhaus suggests, to convey dynamic and expressive contrast. Regarded in

isolated places, where changes in texture and instrumentation provide this contrast, the repetition

ofspecific pitches, as weil as less-defined gestures give strength to Adomo's argument that the

work exhibits no conti nuity or development.S6 On a locallevel, the cells do function

structuraIly, however their position within the larger structural framework is unclear. Continuity • ean therefore not be understood in the eonventional sense. If these cells are regarded only as eonnecting threads, this ignores their differenee in expressive funetion, and the individuality of

instrumentallines.

1would like to further demonstrate, b)' :~,,~ing the opening pitehes ofthe voiee part, how

a motivic figure (composite of its contour and intervallic structure) can be more important as an

audibly unifying element than a pitch cell. The opening notes ofthe voice (c#-b-e) could be

regarded as the origin of a motive which becomes prevalent throughout the piece. Instead of

being defined as a recurring pitch cell, this motive (as partially traced in Ex.6) is defined by ils

contour and shape: largely composed ofa descending minor third followed by an ascending

S~.W. Adorno, Philosophy ofModem Music, trans. A. Mitchell and W. Blornster. (New • York: Seabury, 1973), pA2. 36 • minor second, fx,G,

. f>4., ~M, oj.,. ... T ,." ~. "'" '" - ...: . '7 Hl'fI ~,;" elA ...... Wu? I,,~ /OJ ! ...

~,l1. ta ~M,1-!:'~M 1 ~+~ .. - ~.- • 0(' 11 ..- ~ - ->If , 1 ,.- - L N,'t.J..t- Sr'f. .'..•. u...... IJ I,.la _ ",,',l .. #t,,_ c.J1 ki(1 "",.;.~

"'. z.'t 1\, 1'\. ~l" ,... r'\ - { 1 l2

;l,'(~ .J )-l-.,.,. .... "'" $0 j.,J,. "'k':'et'... Nw 14'" • - 0 .

The above example presents sorne of the more striking similarities of this vocal gesture in the

first two scenes. According to Lessem, it is pitch cell'a' (first seen in the oboe - c#-a#-d at

mm. 1-2) on which much of the work's pitch strucuter is built. It is questionable though. whether

the importance of 'a' lies in its pitch content or rather in the overall shape of the vocal gestures

which grow out of the vocal part. Instead of the domination of a single, identifiable motive, 1

believe there to be a complex ofmusical gestures. The pitches contained within these gestures

are perhaps less audibly memorable than their shape and contour, which become the points of

• reference for the listener. Similar gestures to those found in Ex.6 appear aIso in instrumental 37 • parts; their presen~e is often most striking and recognizable to the Iistener. though, in the voice. 1would argue thalthe frequent reappearance of the gesture as shown in Ex.6 calls into

question the status of 'a' as a pitch cciI. The importance of the gesture is furthered by a semantic

intcrpretation. At mm.3-4. we sense the Woman's confusion with the tentative question 'Hier

hinein'l'. As discussed earlier. the orchestra abandons its accompanimental function at the end of

m.19. in her reminiscence 'nicht sprechen·. At mm.24 and 29. we again sense her loneliness and

frustration with the words 'so stirb doch hier' and 'ich allein.' This is not to suggest, however, that

this gesture can be consistently associated with dramatic meaning. On the contrary. its

expressive function in the second and tliird scenes changes radically, as l will now show.

By restricting his discussion to pitch cells. Lessem is able to connect these cells with

specific dramatic events. For example. he associate~ cell 'a' with the Woman's memories and • anticipation of love.~7 As suggested earlier, though, l would maintain that the intervals in this cell are included within gestures audibly connected to the motive presented in Ex.6. Frequently,

the ordering of intervals changes (as seen in both examples 6 and 7); this grouping of intervais no

longer qualifies as ccll 'a.' Yet the intervais of the ccll in these examples become a component of

the motivic fabric. When the music is perceived in terms of motives defined by their contour,

mther than in terms of specific pitch ceUs, such a strict connection between music and text (as

made by Lessem) is no longer possible. Sorne of the most noticeable appeannces of the minor­

thirdlminor-sccond motive coincide with the Woman's expression of fear a.,d vulnerability in the

second and third scenes.

• ~7Lessem, p.78. • 38

Here these gestures are disguised so as ta lose their original meaning. Most apparent is the sharp • contrast in register when compared ta the first scene. where they are confined mostly ta the octave between middle c and c~ As shawn in the above example, the Woman's increasing fear

transfonns the gesture. moving it into higher registers and widening the intervals (for example, in

m.80 and m.l13, the minor 2nd hecomes a major 7th). The Woman's voice now extcnds

noticeably beyond any definitive range - her expression of rear cannot he contained within any

registral boundaries.

1 have chosen only a few ofthe instances when~ th~s gesture appears. mostly wilh the

shape of a descending minor third fol1owed by an aseending minor second. Because of the

perv'lSiveness c,: these interv..i~ ~which also exhibit rhythmic similarities) in the music, not only

do ~hey not signify texturai eVI~nts, but their stalUS as conventional motives (or specifie pitch

• cells) is called into question. Adorno criticized the presence of such gestural repetition, saying 39

that "the music still draws inner form from the text, anel, in adapting itsclf to it, is foreed to repeat

• eontinually the same gestures and configurations. "58 Stenzl notes, h,Jwever, that these gestures,

while offering eontinuity on a mierostrueturallevel, arc foreed togeth~r with isolated, expressive

moments on a macrostructural level, thereby breaking musical continuity. We are forced to hear

these isolated points as moments where reference to order is always abandoned, and where

gestural repetition (and unity) thereby loses its meaning:

Wesentlieh ist es fUr dieses Werk, daB sieh intervallisehe Kohilrenz, und damit Kontinuitllt einerseits, und motiviseh­ thematisch-expressive Isolation, und damit Diskontinuitlit andererseits, schroff entgegenstehen. [It is essential for this work that its intervallic coherence (and with that, continuity on the one hand) and motivic-thematic-expressive isolation (and with that, discontinuity on the other) are abruptly opposed to each other).59

Although the gesture can be traced throughout these scenes, its changing expressive function is • what both alienates the Woman's voice and further stresses the disparity ofdifferent Iines. In this way, the gesture never retains a stable meaning; ils changing expressions react to the dramatic

events. However, its presence as a gesture, rather than a strict ccII, gives it a flexibility which

evades any conventional function. Analyses which attempt to trace seemingly connected motives

throughout the work are based on the premise that conventional definitions are applicable in the

case of Erwartung. Such a premise is incorrect, however; Maegaard points out that "...to analyze

the development of one type of motif throughout the work would be an analysis without a point

58Adumo, Prisms, trans. Samuel and Shierry Weber, (Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1990), p.l63.

• 59Stenzl, p.70. my translation. 40 • of reference... ""o This is not to say, howevcr, that certain collections of pilches do not prevail in Erwartung.

1have stressed the notion of the 'gesture' and overall contours of the individual voices for the

purpose of identifying the clements of the music which are more c1early perceived (and perhaps

more tangible) lo the Iistener. At the same time, the overriding importance of certain pitches

cannot be ignored (as demonstrated with the various examples of pilCh ccII 'a'). Lcssem,

however, tries to make the case for a hidden tonal structure in Erwartung, based on the recurring

pitch 'd'. And Mauser notes that many authors have placed Erwartung as a direct forerunner to

later works constructed with pitch-c1ass sets and to twelve-tone compositions."1 Such

discussions of the work, however, assume a compositional procedure which does not correspond

with either the subject matter ofthe drama or with Schoenberg's aesthetic outlook at this time. • For example, Anthony Payne writes (about Das Buch der hlingenden Garten, also composed in 1908-09) that "obsessional reviewing of a limited set of pitches is an ideal embodiment of the

imprisoned thoughts ofExpressionism..."62 Schoenberg himselfstressed his desire 10 abandon

any predictable means ofcomposition in this letter to Kandinsky from January 1911:

...every act of forming, every conscious forming plays in sorne way with mathematics, or geometry, with the golden section and the

6OMaegaard, Jan, Studien zur Entwicklung des dodekaphonen Satzes bei Arnold Schonberg, (Copenhagen: Wilhelm Hansen, 1972), p.318, as quoted and translated by Rosen, p.39.

61Siegfried Mauser, Das expressionistische Musiktheater der Wiener Schule (Regensburg: Gustav Bosse, 1982), p.SI. One such example is Allen Forte's article, "Schoenberg's Creative Evolution: The Path to Atonality" in Musical Ouarterly 64 (April 1978): 133-76, in which he argues that Schoenberg was conscious of pitch-c1ass sets and their operations as early as the Op.6 songs.

• 62Anthony Payne, Arnold Schoenberg (London: Oxford University Press, 1968), p.29. 41

like. But the unconscious fonning, which sets the equivalent 'fonn = form of appearance,' that aione really creates fonn; that alone • brings forth such models which are copied by the unoriginal to eventually become 'fonnulas.' He however who has an ear for himself, who is able to perceive and understand his own instincts, ...has no need for such crutches.63

The constant and unpredictable changes ofErwartung's music, then, as dictated by instinct,

ensure that the compositional procedures themselves (Le. the various pitch sets) are given the

freedom to serve expressive purposes. The pitch cells provide coherence at one level, but are

malleable enough to play an expressive role through constant cha'lges in their physiognomy in a

variety of musical contexts. As Payne suggested, any frequent repetitions of pitch move beyond

the realm of the structural, and assume an obsessional, fixational, and unpredictable quality,

paralleled dramatically by the Woman's frenetic search.

• The Dramatic Function ofthe Ostinati In using gestures such as these continuously under different guises, Schoenberg has effectively

broken the convention of motivic unifonnity. Another way in which Schoenberg abandons

convention is through his treatment of ostinato figures. The ostinati have traditionally been

regarded as areas ofstability (even in Erwartung); for example, Penney writes that "Schoenberg

exploits the 'cadential' possibilities ofthe ostinato to articulate divisions within the work. ,,64

Maegaard, in the summary of his analysis ofOp.17 states a1so that "Szenenüberglinge zum Teil

durch satztechnische Merkmale (statisches Ostinato) markiert." ["Passages into the scenes are

63Schonberg-Kandinsky: Briefe. Bilder und Dokumente einer auBergewohnIichen Bewegung, cd. Jelena Hahl-Koch, (Salzburg/Wien, 1980), p.21, as quoted in Wickes, p.94.

• 64Penney, p.245. 42 • marked partly through static ostinati"].6l When seen in this light, the ostinati assume a stable function, a means of punctuating the

entries into different scenes. Their dramatic effect, however, is not one of stabilizlIlion; the

ostinati have an expressive function, especially in their frequent contrast with sections which are

less rhythmically stable. The juxtaposition of these elements -those of stasis and motion (the

latter residing in the rhythmic drive and more regular sense of pulse provided by the ostinuto)­

defies convention; the appearance of the ostinato as a stable feature is often subverted by ils

subsequent breakdown. The ability of the ostinato to evoke an atmosphere of fear ulso prevents

it from being merely a place of stability.

The first ostinato in m.9 presents the first instance of brief rhythmic drive and motion in

the work; its strong statement is suddenly dissolved in the ensuing measure - a similar situation • (as noted earlier) as in mm.16-l8, where the chords of m.l9 disappear into silence in mm.20-21. Perhaps the most effective use of the ostinato occurs in between scenes. In the transition

to the second scene, an ostinato originates at m.30 where the c1arinet, contra-bassoon, harp, and

viola share the same abrupt, fragmented rhythmic figure. At the same time the Hauptstimme (A

c1arinet) (whose part here includes the 'a' cell with its original pitches d-c#-a#) and second violins

play a series of intertwining thirds. Il is perhaps somewhat ironie that, prior to the transition, the

Woman sings 'ich will singen...dann hërt er mich', with 'renewed courage' ('Mut fassend'). The

ostinato suggests an element of fear here with its insistent relletition and especially through the

figure (m.33) in the 2nd violin (pizzicato) and f1ute. This is perhaps one of the means mentioned

by Dahlhaus of interlocking sections; the fear initiated by the ostinato, which contradicts the

• 65Maegaard, p.454. 43 • Woman's 'courageous' words, develops in the following scene into her spoken fear. This is further emphasized in the brief cessation of orchestral motion in m.38; here the trompet plays a

variant ofcell'a' (pianissimo), before the Woman's unexpected outbreak with a similarly shaped

gcsture at mAO (containing a minor, rather than a major third). This suggests a dramatic role for

this ccli: the quiet presentation in the trompet is overtaken and overshadowed by the vocaIline at

mm.38-39, which, aside from containing the pitches d-c#-a#, continues downward in minor

thirds, reminisccnt of the motive traced earlier in Ex.6. ~x. 8

II. Scene (TI.hl•• D..hl, ...... Wor. hu, 41 ••" B...... 51.1.."1 ..",Ortl) ( (••dllll.....' d.,. s.....) ! ("üd" ddl, min mll d•• HiRdln,NrnbrtllftlU• 1 Frll.u IoldullO.b.d, •• "fo,7,. Hlorlol .....- ~on, l W"7IaU..o/.,] rit. ... 14]l wiede f 1 h HlIl,"O •• _ wfeder etwa.s langsllmer 00111 0 r v e rase er o ~, • IC!lIP ft (Do".lmftl ['Gge.

• II.O~. rdiç.tJAQ''1't'tu. ',.,tl.,. H": Br. ,,,, , -.

1.

JT

In the transition to the third scene, another ostinato takes over, climaxing with the

Woman's false discovery of a body ('ein Korper...nein, Nur ein Stamm'), before aIso dissolving.

The Woman experiences an instant of musical solitude as she sings 'da kommt ein Licht' over

sustained pitches in m.90; the fear and anticipation oftrus approaching light (Schoenberg's

• instructions here are 'wieder halb angstlich') are captured one measure later (m.91) by the eerie 44 • harp ostinato. Her words oscillate between fright and self·reassurance ('ach! Nur der Mond..wie gut..Dort tanzt etwas Sehwarzes'). This demonstrales anolher means by which the ostinulo is

destabilized; a moment of seeming musicul clarity (the ostinuto) contrasls with the ambiguily of

the text, reflecting the Woman's fluctuating states of mind. The sudden cessation of the ostinuto

in m.96 coincides with her reulizution that she sees only shudows, before she lupses into

reminiscences. As her feur rises uguin, u more intense ostinato (as it is doubled in the first violin

and cella Hallptstimme) sets in (m. 106), and climuxes with her exclumalion of fear ('Kein

Tier...').

Schoenberg generates tension with these ostinati in their graduai texturul thickening, und

also through changes in rhythmic value. For example, the sixteenth·note harp ostinulo in mm.91­

S ereates the secondary voice (Nebenstimme), while the ostinato in the strings ut m.106 forms the • Hallptstimme and moves in ascending-descending thirty-second notes. The entire string section and the clarinets reinforce and extend the ostinuto at the climax (m. 111). Yet this obvious

increase in tension coincides with a truly illusory image for the Woman, for she is unable lU

identify what she sees. It is somewhat paradoxical that the most dense section in the music (for

the ostinato unifies many of the orchestral voices here) coincides with moments of the Woman's

total breakdown, when she can no longer distinguish between reality and illusion. By using the

ostinato, a technique to which the listener immediately relates, in these illusory moments, the

meaning of the ostinato becomes as unclear - and obsessional- as the Woman's thoughts. It

provides on the one hand a sense of momentary stability, or rhythmic drive, but on the other,

loses its sense of direction and pulse by inexplicably either breaking off or dwindling away. The • ostinati are cut off at crucial moments, as is the case in m.1 12. At this point the Woman, 45 • abandoncd by the orchestra, expresses her fear ('ieh habe solche Angst'); the absence of the ostinato is emphasized in the descending glissandi of the cellos, Danuser submits that with her

first utlerance of the word 'fear,' (m.112) this emotion becomes a permanent state in the work,

indicated by the revived ostinato in m.113.

Bei der Verwandlung von der éritten zur vierten Szene (T.l14f.), unmittelbar nachdem die "Frau" zum ersten Mal das Wort "Angst" ausgesprochen hat, erhebt ein Wechsel der Kompositionsmittel die Angst auf eine hohere Stufe...erst jetzt kann Angst zur Dauer werden. [In the transition from the third to the fourth scene (m.l14t), immediately after the Woman speaks the word 'fear' alcJUd for the first time, a change in the orchestral accompaniment lifts the fear onto a higher level...only now can fear become permanent).66

This permanency of fear arises out of the heavy orchestral ostinato from m.114 and

following; Schoenberg emphasizes its abruptness at mm.118-19 with his directions for the strings • to get softer ('nehmen sie rasch ab'), before ail voices trickle away ('verrinnend') towards the end of the scene. Perhaps part of the 'change in orchestral accompaniment' ofthe fourth scene to

which Danuser refers is in the increasing use of ostinato figures which, in their frequent

altemation with Jess rhythmically stable sections, serve to intensify the Woman's fear.

The ensuing ostinato at m.151 presents a musical situation analogous to that of m.lll. In

the former, the ostinato builds in the orchestra, but cuts off abruptly after the Woman's vocal

climax (m.112 corresponds in this way to m.154); the shock of both moments seerns to drive the

Woman into silence, before the ostinato resumes (m.113) and then builds up further in m.155.

The fact that the musical climax at m.l50 and following recalls that of the previous scene (in

66Herrnann Danuser, Musikalische Prosa, (Regensburg: Gustav Bosse, 1975), p.135-36, my • translation. 46 • terms of dramatic events) further calls into question the 'truthfulness' of the Woman's findings. Again, fear becomes manifest with the increased intensity of the ostinato in Scene 4 lInd with the

sudden chllnge in texture at m.159, followed by another, eerily quiet ostinllto (in the flutes.

lIccomplinied by li pedal in the ce1estll. mm. 160-64, marked pianissimo and triple pianissilIIo

respectively); yet the body's presence is never mllde explicit.67 The Woman's text after the

1engthy, climactic ostinato also seems to deny the body its existence; in her confusion she sllYs

'da ist der schreckliche KopLdas Gespenst...wenn es nur cndlich verschwlinde.. .' (lhcre is the

dreadfu1 head..the ghost..lf it would only disappear at last). The ambiguity of the situation is

further compounded by her words 'Es zergeht sicher..wie das im Wald' (surely it will

disappear..like that in the forest), as she refers to her mistaken identification of the body in the

previous scene. The important difference in the musical setting, however, is that at m.16B there • is no ostinato, and thus nothing to dissolve; her expectations ofencountering her lover (or his body) are again thwarted. This moment is also accompanied by a descending glissalldo in the

ceno (c#-d - Hallptstimme) which is reminiscent of the glissalldo (d-c# at m.112) after the

dissolutior of the ostinato.

67Schoenberg's stage directions add to the ambiguity of the situation; the presence ofa body remains unclear as he writes only 'stosst mit dem Fuss an etwas' [strikes with her foot against something] at m.145. This 'something' becomes the body for the Woman, however, the fact that there is no physicai body onstage ofcourse succeeds in making the viewer question whether it is • meant to he there, or only in the Woman's mind. 47

J ,01..,~./(,~ Gx.; 1.k1. FI. '''". 1.2.3. gr. Ft1 --- • ". D·X]ar. . ~.= , t-111'\ il.. 1JOar.(B) .111- 1. , BII!Xlar.(B1 , ...... ", ___J I.F".. w 1. Hr.(F) "" •• Dpr. B... •• Dpr.·r" Hr!. , Talll~. ..Ii 'JJ,. 1 Frau mohl hJ",WI..NlohI4~~hollloft... Eo ....;u.l Ikher"l

II.Oge. Ill.Dpr. ,- . Br. IlI.Dpr. .11. v.. ,·~ Slt tr-,;:..;.: • ~1: Vell. " llI.Dpr. .,trI/1I1. Xtrbll. "\ . -

The Woman continues in confusion, shedding further doubt on the existence ofthe body:

• 'ich muss ihn finden...es ist nicht mehr da..Ich wusste..'. This passage again parallels that at

m.125 where, after the cessation of the ostinato from m.113-23, she realizes it was 'not the body

with the words 'er ist auch nicht da.' In the ensuio.g measures, however, the ostinato in the harp

again assumes an exp~ssive purpose, building up fear. with the oboes repeating the same

rhythmic interjections in m.175-76 (not an ostinato here) as heard in the flutes at m.161-63. Here

bis physical presence becomes real for the f!!st time ('Es ist noch da..Es ist lebendig..Es hat

Haut..Augen..Haar'). The climactic high register in the voice and the slowing ofthe overall

rhythm after the abrupt stop ofthe thirty-second note ostinato are both strong musical indicators

ofher recognition of the body. • 48 • tx. (0 y Rrt. 111" ..or ... • "'! ...... 1Itl t'rIt, •• 1 1 ,.- ,.. ,.-. y. ;. --y Xyl. ~ p r. ~-. ~ .... Fra.ll - "~.l .•1. nuMun4. Du du ~~ ~~ ~e~ê _~h LOge. " •• !lpr. p ~Ê D.Gge. II" ..... I=-~ ~~ "Dpr. . Br. r 1.. "Dpr. 1., 11 li" Il -. •••••••••••••••••••••••••• 1 T Il

To this point the ostinati have reflected her fear as weil as prevented her (and the Iistener) from

deciding if there really is a body (or at least if this is what she really sees). The more • conventional, consistent orchestral accompaniment from m.l?? (see above example) allows the Woman to finally become convinced of her lover's presence. The 'realness' of the moment is

further marked by her words; from m.l?3, the body remains an object which she fears but does

not yet recognize; her speech towards the abject is at first detached ('es ist noch da..es ist

lebendig..es hat augen'), until, in her graduaI recognition, 'Ît' becornes 'him' ('seine Augen..seinen

Mund. Du..du').

It is significant that at this moment (m.l??) the aceompaniment is a slower sixteenth-note

pattern (from thirty-second notes in the prevÎous measure) and that il no longer possesses the

same sort ofinsistent, continuous drive. Instead. the interjections are more fragmented and the

pitches are altered - it does not have the same harmonie consistency of the previous ostinati. In

• the earlier climactic points, the abrupt end of the ostinati left the Woman's voice exposed in a 49 • high rcgister (cg. m.112 and m.154); with hs cessation at m.iSO (before the viola begins another pulsating figure at m.ISI) the Woman's Hne descends, reversing the intervals from the previous

cHmaxes, and bringing her voice into a less extreme range. Her text here aIso indicates that she

has finally connected in her rnind the abstract 'object' (it) with her lover: 'Du_du_bist du

es... ich habe dich so Jang gesueht.'

•

As generators offear, it might aIso be suggested that the ostinati (similar to the repetitive

pitches as discussed earHer) net as symbols of the Woman's fixation on her lover - an idea carried

further by Berg in Wozzeck. 68 But whether representative ofobsession or creators of illusion (or

perhaps both), Schoenberg's use ofostinati serve at once to generate and dissolve tension.

Rosen notes that

By their contrast with the ostinato, the sections with no repeating figures can give an impression...ofalmost complete calm, a sense

68 As Douglas Jarman notes in The Music of Alban Berg (London: Faber and Faber, 1979), p. 163, the main rhythmic figure which appears after the murder scene becomes a symbol of • Marie's murder: "Its obsessive repetition represents Wozzeck's memory ofthe crime." 50 • of c1ear resolution after the tension of the ostinato." Rather than a sense of resolution. though. 1wou Id argue thatthe lack of pulse IInd feeling of

motionlessness following many of the ostinati create Il sense of disintegration. of brcllkdown -

tension dissolved, rather than resolved.

Scene IV and the Encounter with Death

The Expressionist aesthetic: music's expression of the inner self

The notion of moving beyond musical representation stems somewhat from the Expressionist

artists' altitude towards music as an intangible, abstract mode ofcommunication, one which is

incapable of signifying anything concrete. One finds this aesthetic view in the writings of such

artists/critics as Bekker, Kandinsky, and Adorno. The common thread running through thcir • texts is the emphasis on music as an abstract, non-represcntational art; as Hailey writes. "Bckker feltthat music's avant-garde, by speaking again in terms of music and not ideas, could wean

Iisteners from their over-intellectualised need to understand music and teach them once again

how to hear and fcel it naively. "70 With a similar intent, Kandinsky looked to music as a model

for painting, since music stands free from any inherent signification of meaning:

...music has been the art which has devoted itself...to the expression of the artist's soul and to the creation of an autonomous Iife of musical sound...A painter who finds no satisfaction in mere representation...in his desire to express his inner Iife, cannot but envy the ease with which music, the most nonmaterial of today's

69Rosen, pA7.

7oChristopher Hailey, "Musical Expressionism: the Search for Autonomy," in Expressionism • Reassessc:d. eù. Behr, Fanning, et al. (Manchester University Press, 1993), p.106-7. SI • art forms, achicves Ihis end. 71 Hailey goes on 10 argue thatlhe paradox of Expressionism arises through the factthatthe desire

for the spiritual over the material must be achieved through concrete, or material means. 72

Despile Ihis puradox, however, much of Schoenberg's success with Erwartung lies in his

deliberate breakdown of conventional constructs (as demonstrated in the previous section),

thereby seeming to move uway from the malerial. 73 This conceptualization of music as

inherently abslracl also permils Adorno 10 comment that Ihe Woman in Erwartung

is consigned 10 music in the very same way as a patient is to analysis. The admission of hatred and desire, jealousy and forgiveness, and - beyond allthis - the entire syrnbolism of the unconscious is wrung from her...74

These comments suggeslthat Schoenberg's music reacts to the Woman's experience, almost

existing on a leveI of its own. and therefore goes beyond simply heightening the effect of the

• words. Erwartun..g's subject matter is wonderfully suited to this Expressionist aesthetic: the

unconscious mind, as something abstract and intangible, deems itself as 'unrepresentable' and

undefinable as music.

ln Ihe following section, 1would like to discuss the rneans used by Schoenberg to create

this effective, instinctual musical language, focussing on several specific moments in the fourth

71Wassily Kandinsky, Concerning the Spiritual in Art, trans. F.Golffing et al. (New York: George Willenborn, 1947), p.24.

72Hailey, p.109.

73Schoenberg's own artistic aesthetic. (as quoted previously in this paper, p.37) also opposes materialism: he argues that any constructs which arise in bis music do so through instinctive, unconscious. and not material needs. • 74Adorno. Philosophy, p.42. 52 • scene. A brief look atthe symbolic importance of the dramutic events which give rise to thesc musicul 'climaxes' is first ncccssury in order to draw certuin purallcls bctwccn thc tcxt und music.

The Encounter with Death

The first atonal works of Schoenberg arc described by Adorno us ";:usc studics in thc

scnse of psychoanalytic dream case studies. "7l The text of Erwartung. as discussed prcviously,

can also be regarded as a product of this particular historical momcnt, when artistic und scicnti fic

imerests, ir.:: :ated in part by Freud's research, focuGsed oftcn on the role of the unconscious

mind.76 Other typical Expressionist modes of communication, as mentioned in the previous

chapter, include the de;)iction ofdream-states, the use of stream-of-consciousness writing, and an

IJverall concem with the ,dil.'nation and co~fusion of the individual. Erwartung provides an • excellent example of such interests in its literary and musical portrayal ofdcath and femlile hysteria. Perhaps most interestir.g b !I}e fourth scene are the moments where the Woman not

only discovers her lover, but also wren other references to death, and even her own death, appear

in th'l text.

Robert Detweiler notes that texls which deal with a character's death are dealing with a

7lIbid., p.39.

76Lewis Wickes argues convincingly that a general awareness of Freud's theorics (even if only through his associates, such as Max Graf) existed among the artisls in Schoenberg's circle. As noted earlier, for example. Schnitzler and Freud corresponded and read each other's work. Of the plays ofWerfel and Hasenclever. and the poetry of Heym, Henry Lea notes in Expressionism as an International Literary Phenomenon, p.147, that "a Freudian atmosphere hovers over these • strangely ambivalent works." 53 • moment of radieal instability, "touching thc boundaries of being and non-bcing.,m Atthis moment, the author dcstroys the conscious world of a living being; in the case of Erwartung. this

destruction ofconsciousness is relayed through the eyes of the Woman. The traumatic effect of

finding her lover's body forces the Woman to face her supposed repressed memory, but more

Ihan this. the unexpecled confrontation with death in effect distorts her own sense of self·

consciousness - she begins now 10 hallucinate more wildly, and even more importantly. tries in

vain to revive her lover ("Wach doch auf...nur nichttot sein...") before finally succumbing to the

certainty of his death. Such instanees are crucial as they indicate a sort of breakdown ofthe

woman's consciousness. and thus an erasure ofthe borders between her conscious and

unconscious sides. Kristeva speaks of the encounter with a corpse as something which is 'abject:'

...corpses show me what 1permanently thrust aside in art'- , live... The corpse...is death infecting life...It is somethinr r. ;J from which one does not part, from which one does not pl~,ect • oneself as from an object. Imaginary uncanniness and realthreat, it beckons to us and ends up engulfing us.7•

ln Erwartung. then. the act ofdiscovering the body effectively causes the Woman to lose control

of her own senses, and we can sense in her hysteria that she is 'engulfed' by this unconscious,

other side. After his death is certain in her mind, the border between her conscious and

unconscious collapses as she !lirts with the notion ofher own death (indicated in her lines "Ich

will es küssen...mit dem letzten Atem" [I want to kiss it...with my last breath] and "Nun küB ich

mich an dir zu Tode" [Now in kissing you 1kiss myself to death]). Stenzl notes that with this

nRobert Dctweiler, "The Moment ofDcath in Modem Fiction," Contemporary Literature 13/3 (Summer 1972), p.269.

7·Julia Kristeva, Powers of Horror: Essays on Abjection (New York: Columbia University • Press, 1988), p.3-4. 54

final scene the Woman experienees an 'apocalypse of love', or love at its Ulmosl intensity.

• Calling Erwarlung a drama of 'breakdown,' [Zusammenbruchl. he states more specificlllly llmt

wilh the confrontation of the body "...die Frau erfahrl diese Wuhrheit uls Dissoziulion des

Individuums..." [the Womun experiences this truth us the dissociution of the individuall.7•

The moments of the Womun's crises. then. crystallize both musicully und drumuticully

around the body. Adorno's brief remarks on the 'symbolism of her unconscious' indicate his

recognition of this notion of rupture in Erwartung's Womun - but he goes further lhun uny other

writer on the subject of this piece by pointing out specifically those momenls where such

ruptures occur. How. then. does Schoenberg relate these textual events to his music? The ideas

of Adorno offer much insight into this question; 1will use his comments as a means ofopening • the musical discussion of the fourth scene. Schoenberg's 'Revolution of Expression:' music in Scene IV

In his discussion ofSchoenberg's Expressionist period, Adorno lays out a dialectical relationship

between the universal and particular levels on which. according to him. music operates.

Conventional interpretations ofmusical materials and forms exisl on a universal, or general,

level; on the particular level, these materials are broken down, deconstructed. thereby redefining

the universallevel in terms of the particular. Adorno writes that

[Schoenberg's] music officially denies the daim that the universal and the speeific have been reconciled. Regardless of the indebtedness of the music in its origins to parallel principles exhibited in nature, and regardless of the similarity of its formai irregularities to organic forms - in no way does it present an

• 79Stenzl, p.68, my translation. 55 • organic totality.Ho ln Adorno's vicw, Schocnberg's music is successful because of the tension between universal and

specific, and the resulting deslruction of convention. 'Truth' in music is achieved through the

connict between the disinlegration of musical material and the need for formaI coherence: "...the

'form' of the inlegrated work, to be 'authentic' (that is, lrue to the demands of its material), must

now incorporate its apparent opposite - disinlegration, fragmentation, chaos,"81 When referring

10 Erwartung (and more specifically, to Schoenberg's self-quotation from "Am Wegrand"),

Adorno speaks of a dialeclic of loneliness, where the extreme inwardness and solitude of the

subject are alienaled by being externalized and objectified. Paddison aptly summarizes Adorno's

words:

Schoenberg's music makes concrete the a1ienation of the Subject through its determination to preserve the Subject by extending its control to every corner of the material. At the same time, however, • it is a dead end: total stasis...the expression ofsuffering becomes frozen and timeless. "82

The illea ofexpression through stasis carries over into the musical language, given voice through

the Woman's various reactions to the body.

Adorno's remark (as cited earlier) about the 'woman being consigned to music as a patient

to analysis' is interesling in the context of musical events surrounding her discovery of the body.

A lengthy ostinalo precedes the fourth scene, and the accompaniment from m.124 becomes

strangely stallc, allowing the Woman to continue her monologue. Sustained pitehes ensue,

80Adorno, Philosophy. pAO.

81Max Paddison, Adomo's Aesthetics of Music, (Cambridge University Press, 1993), p.275. • 82Ibid.. p.267. 56 • giving way to short, abrupt figurations (the first occurring in m.133, lst violin), followed by more frequent articulations of chords from m.132 in the strings. Gradually, these violent

figurations become more prevalent, and also begin to resemble short ostinato-type figures with

their repetitive rhythm (for example, see the oscillations of the bass clarinet and bassoons at

mm.l43-44, and the 2nd and 3rd clarinets at m.148). These instances prepare for the ostinato

which accompanies the Woman's recognition of the body: what is interesting about the material

leading up to this moment is the shape of the phrases of the instruments and the voice. Both

retain an overall downward motion from the beginning of the scene: as a consistent gesture this

seems to suggest an ~,lement of control, especially in the voice. almost as though trying to

swallow her fear in the face of the inevitable (see Ex.12 below). ~~9Enoi#~~~t,,~s~"

• jI\. 13(, ~ ~"' fIl.Nr, ..... "',.. .. -,.:~E~# _D.,.t1 ... " ~ IJr Jl ",uJ.. cr .... _, f'AUO· ...... , .... v tuye .. f<,.c ~ .,./S; !jt C " 1,J,. L-. ....<.lA . Severa! times. this control threatens to slip out ofthe Woman's grasp (for example. at m.141. as

she moves into a higher range. compared to her previous pitches. and at m.lsO. again as her lines

suddenly ascend): in each case, she manages to regain 'control', despite the surrounding agitated

• instrumental figures. It is interesting that these instrumental figures seem to strengthen or 57 • become more prominent in moments where the Woman begins to doubt herself, for instance at m.143 and m.151. In the laller example, the sudden upward motion of the winds seem to drive

her onward, despite her words "/ch kann nicht." Later, at m.153, her line finally ascends, in

startling contrast to allthat has pl'eviously occurrcd, breaking the consistency of the downward-

moving lines, and also suggesting her ultimate loss ofcontrol (see Ex.13). The silence which

follows this dramatic climax (m.158) ilIustrates one of those moments of 'stasis' which prompted

Adorno's often-cited remark that

Musical language is polarized according to its extremes: towards gestures ofshock resembling bodily convulsions on the one hand, and on the other towards a crystalline standstill of a human being whom anxiety causes to freeze in her tracks.83

A similar, but more extreme, instance is found at mm.215-16; at this point the Woman

• has broken out her reminiscences of the past, and begins to recallthe presence ofdeath ("Was

soli ich nun tun, daB el' jetzt aufwacht?" [What should 1do so that he awakes now?] and "Deine

liebe Hand...so kalt?" [Your loving hand...so cold]). (Hel' slow realization is also indicaled in the

librello; shortly after this moment (at m.233) Pappenheim wrote "sieht ihn an, erwachend" [She

looks at him, beginning to realize]). This leads to an extended section (up to m.270) of increased

desperation, as it occurs largely in the 'present'- as opposed to her recollections of the past in the

prior section. Here, that very immediacy of the moment is captured in the inexorable rhythmic

drive of various instrumental figurations. There is literally no l'est from these rhythmically

forceful, repctilive figures, which very frequently (at times with each new measure) change

instrumentation and pitches (see Ex.14).

• 83Adorno, Philosophy, pA2. Gx.. [3

• •

~ - ~---

... .. --f:~= . ---"c::'-

JT

~ 1 .... S8

1':J~l1nCrol.76 .;'~~ 1 1.2.3.1'1" FI. . -~-- • k·),JO .. E.!!.

(wh~nllJch langstlJner} poco rit.•. . "T;\ ~.~ - ". ~. l 11--. &.~!:~È.t~~ ~· ! • ... .;.. ... I=.~_.. 1 J."!=,. ! !=". ""'.22$ - - -.---_ •• ~ l ~; ~. pp. -' 1 IlJ' ~, . --, ..-;1 ..1 u J- / JII'1I,l ~ ,.--ra. ~~ p.J:'" -1 .aT.iJ.I.. • 1 ~~ -1 "= l:"e. .-- 1 Pl 1 1 oIJJ ~-,. 1 -"J The 'conversation' with her lover occurs at times:lS though he were alive. The ostinati here

bccome eerie reminders of their tirst appearances in the earlier scenes. where they suggested fear

without being supported by any concrete dramatic event. At the same time. because the past use

of ostinati is recalled. thcir appearance here seems to indicate sorne sort ofbuild·up towards

greater shock for the Woman (and listener).

The release from this instrumental build-up cornes at m.269 - a key moment. both

rnusically and dramatically. Adorno writes of these moments as revolutionary, because ofthe

• formai innovations which accompany them: 59

The actual rcvolutionary moment for [Schoenberg) is the change in • function of musical expression...The scars of this revolution of expression, however, are the blotches which have become fixed in his music as well as in his pictures, as the he..alds ofthe id against the compositional will."

He then goes on to footnote, almost arbitrarily, mm.1 0, 269, and 382 as "examples of such

blotches."84 Similar to the moment of her discovery of the body, we can speak here of an

instance of psychological rupture for the Woman: her words indicate the loss of self-identity and

consciousness which occur with her sudden awareness of death: "Nun kül3 ich mich an dir zu

Tode." Musically, the impact of the chord at m.269 virtually obliterates allthe material

preceeding il. (This moment is also connected musically and textually to m.263; atthis point,

sustained pitches in the hom, c1arinets, English hom, cellos and basses accompany the words

"Ich will es küssen mit dem letzten Atem..", the first moment ofcomplete musical stillness after • the long passage of incessant motion). This stasis is exaggerated further at mm.269-70; its dramatic power almost overrides that of her initial discovery of the body because the cessation of

motion is so lengthy (sustained pitches prevail in the texture from mm.263-72).

A similar climactic moment occurs earlier at m.154 (in that there is a dynamic and

instrumental build-up, leading to a sudden held chord). Lessem notes that the same 'augmented

triad' is heard here (specifically, he isolates the pitches B-D-F#-A# at m.154 and G-B-D# at

84Ibid., p.39. Adorno in fact criticizes these 'blotches' (Le. moments ofclimax or crisis in the music) as being traces of a compositional process which is more 'conscious' and calculated, as opposed to more instincitive composition Ccompositional will') which negates accepted musical convention (the latter point being an aspect ofSchoenberg's composition admired by Adorno). In this way, Adorno sees the moments which he cites as breakdowns in Schoenberg's 'destructive: • instinctive compositional process. 60 • m.269).'1 While these two moments have audible similarities. 1believe it is not beeause of their piteh content, but rather because of texturaI and dynamic similarities. The measures preceding

and following m.154 retain a certain uniformity: each section uf instruments play similar

figurations, and the full orchestra builds dynamically towards the fortissimo at m.l54. The most

prominent pitches of this measure, B-O-F# (with a high, prominent C# in the flutes) are

presented in a single blow (refer again to Ex.13).

ln contrast, the climax at m.269 is approached and 'resolved' very differently. As

mentioned above, sustained chords set in already at m.263, slowing the overall motion and

creating a more static texture; various individual, linear figurations also sound (for example in

the trumpet and violin at m.267), as opposed to the repeated rhythmic figures which precede

m.154. There are also subtle texturai shifts, as various instruments exchange pitches between • mm.267-70. At m.269, the texture is considerably more dense and filled in; the pitches G-B-O# sound, but are only part of an aggregate of seven other pitches. The range used at this point is

also narrower and less extreme, thus making it more difficult to distinguish pitches (see Ex.l5).

The 'revolution ofexpression' lies, 1believe, in Sehoenberg's ability to use similar deviees (i.e.

dissolving the orchestral motion into 'nothingness') at different points without falling into a

clearly repetitive pattern. These moments of stasis stand out with each subsequent appearance

without ever imitating each other.

The final place cited by Adorno (m.382) is perhaps a less obvious example ofsuch

dranmtic power. At 01.380 we experience a decrease in rhythmic activity (comparable to that

heard al m.263); this leads to absolute stillness again at m.382. This presents another of the • KSLessem, p.88. • fx. (5 . m Il' l.tl PI. - - """ -~ ~-,ca=:l~

l - =-~ ~~ , ~ Ifr.pt U = ~_.l'2 "- . I~_/::-

lOb. .. - ",., -

1;.11. 1 EIi=--- m .- 1,,: [). " p.llar. ===::E ".,

3.llar.lAl -{ J. '"le p1---r.rj ". " l'v = 1 ;; 3 ~~~.. ~~ ~ ,[5~, - .n u. .. - Pr· .J-

1 Ilr.·r, ·l " .....,t. • 12.1Ir-" ) &o...... , . •.~,r.:,.... L ". I.~.œ ) ",,' IO.Ilpt. - ...."., 12­ IOJlI;F."'"­ 3.4.u. BII,T~ •. !lp'. , "rt:-.. I ....." ...:DI",. -r- . Cel. r ., X,I. , .~ -~ 11.11" , ....., ...., t&...... ,...I.....L, MtU"') Frall

d.~IM'. ~.~:h AIL•• Udul; ...... J.a .. A. . pfl -. • " tdrw'teMU...... 1â iIJd .. .. !If•• n' k • ..a....'" III re.J... Ii.!i?"e I~ ~ ~,,,. rmJ I.Solo.Gro ~ •.Opt. .. <~ - j .. ~,. lZ r.- - ~ - _o' .. - - "., .. llfI· Br. • Dpl. m .. ,. .... V.D. - - .. Opt. =-- • " "., " 61 • 'interlocking' scctions of which Dahlhaus spoke; in this case, the cessation of motion, followed by a more rhythmically active section (mm.385-88), on a larger level parallels the two previous

examples in that they signify moments of profound realization for the Woman - the first in her

discovery of the body, the other in her realization of and desire for her own death. M.382 is yet

another endpoint for her thoughts; the lengthy 'dialogue' with her lover is framed by her words of

comfor! and resignation: "..dein Mitleid machte mich glücklich...Ich glaubte...war im Glück." ln

the ensuing final section of the work, her words indicate a renewed awareness of her

surroundings ('Liebster..der Morgen kommt') and also of the boundaries of her own self ('denn

meine Grenze war der Ort, an dem du warst'), and a complete break with the events ofthe pas!.

The music at m.382 presents us with the sustained pitches heard in the two previous

examples - the last instance of such stillness in the piece (the common pitches sounding at • mm.269 and 382 are: f, f#, b, c#, d#, d (voice), a#, c, and g). Lessem views the presence ofthe pitch 'd' in m.383 (contra-bassoon) as a sort of 'tonal' resolution.86 He overlooks the 'c#' (cello)

which also sounds against the 'd'in the same measure; 1would argue, therefore, that tbis is not a

resolution, but a return, or reiteration of 'd'and 'c#' (perhaps the most prominent pitcbes in the

work, as discussed previously). In this way, mm.383-4 is a means ofc10sing this section by

grounding the final sustained chord with these pitches, as tbey both occur in bass voices (by

comparison, in m. 154, d and c# are heard in a high register, and at m.269, only the c# appears in

the bass - although not ~ the lowest voice in the texture - and the low d in the third clarine!. The

importance of these pitcbes at m.383 is at the same lime a means of opening the last seclion of

the work, where these pitches allain yet a new significance, as 1will now discuss. • 86Ibid., p.92. 62 • In the final section (m.389 to the end), 'd'and 'c#' arc sung by the Woman most noticcably on the repeated word 'Grenze', when she speaks of the borderless nature of her wandering

thoughts, and of the border of her self as defined by the dead body (mm.395 und 397). ('D'und

'e#' ure also featured ut the beginning of op.6 no.6, und form registrul boundaries in that song as

well). These pitches are stressed again at mA03 as they occur on the word 'Nacht', immediately

followed by a brief silence. Schoenberg's self-quotati"n of the Op.6, no.6 song"Am Wegrund"

(which was first discussed by Adorno) acts almost iike a hidden reference to the Wom:m's

alienation; as Adorno suggests, "the Expressionist reveals loneliness as universal."'7 Both

Buchanan and Lessem again make the case for a hidden tonal reference through this quotation;

Buchanan states "That tonal material from "Am Wegrand" appears in Erwartung without

disturbance to the stylistic consistency of the work suggests that Erwartung is more tonal than • heretofore believed..... In an article about the notion of 'das Unheimliche' in music, Michael Cherlin counter-argues that "Schoenberg undennines tonality as quickly a~ it begins to rise to the

surface." He goes on to state that the feeling of the uncanny arises in this passage because, (and

here he quotes Joseph Schelling from Freud's essay on the subject): ..... it ought to have

remained...hidden and secret and has become visible...8. More than this, however, the passage

does create an aura ofthe uncanny because for one moment, Schoenberg's earlier compositional

voice emerges, and, as Adorno notes, "the quotation represents authority." He later argues that

'7Adorno, Philosophy, p.47.

"Buchanan, p.434.

8'Michael Cherlin, "Schoenberg and Das Unheimliche: Spectres ofTonality," Journal of • Musicology 1113 (Summer 1993), p.362. 63 • even the "geslures of shock" in Erwartung become somewhal formulaic. since "as soon as lhey have made their lirst reuppeanmce - [they] give contour to the form which encompasses

them..."'" 1would submit. though. thatlhe quotation from "Am Wegrand" subjects the listener to

anolher 'geslure of shock'. or breakthrough unlike those previously discussed. since here

Schoenberg openly aligns himsclf with the lonely position of Erwartung's protagonist.

Schoenberg's self-reference ulso creutes a moment of breakthrough by infusing Erwartung's text.

which to this point 'belonged' to the Woman, with another layer (,f meaning in light of the text of

"Am Wegrand." For example. the lastline of the Op.6. no.6 song 'My tired eyes close' suggests a

certain resignation. withdrawal, or surrcnder, an inability to carry on - not dissimilar to

Erwartung's ending, where the Woman is also unuble to lind what she seeks ('Ich suchte...').

Schoenberg here subjectively communicates his own position and thus authority, not only that of • the Woman. In this way too, the music is again not permitted to fall inta a pattern; the sudden contmsts between motion and stasis no longer play a role in this linal, /luid section. Instead,

Schoenberg creates another instance of breakthrough with this reference to the self. Musically,

we hear this through the suddelllyricism of the sung line (compared to the more abrupt,

rccitative-like style from m.410). As Cherlin noted, any 'tonal' reference (for the section

containing lhe quolation does rcfer to 'D'as a C';ntral pilCh) is ullim~.tely denied us, for the work

drifts off with a completely ungrounded chromatic passage. The end of Erwartung literally fades

out - thcre is seemingly no end. only a rush ofascending and descending motion which is

suddenly severcd.

ln terms of musical structure, the music around the quotation certainly lixates on certain • ""Adorno, Philosophy, p.48-9. 64 • pitchcs, bll! n{:i solcly, as othcrs hav.: suggcstcd, as a mcalts of refcrring to lonality. Instcud, it secms the rcpctitiOl' of pitches (again, cspccially of 'd'and 'c#') rc-contcxtualizcs the carHer

rcliance on these pitchcs in terms of the quotation. Aside l'rom the moment of direct quotation,

the oscillation of the vocalist around c#-d-d# gives the sung tine a similar contour to tlmt round

in moments of "Am Wegrand," wherc therc is much chromatic motion around 'd' - in Erwnrlung

suggesting. but never confirming il as a central pitch (see Ex.16),

~ . L . .~î . 1 • Yor.~1- !±f=-- /11. j·A"". S-c, . -l'"•• 1 , ,. -';;' ~ q' -r ,. ",.. ClIO ' -.+" 1""''''. 2Z.-' . 1/' - , " ... " .,. - . t'R.'" 12 1,/'1\ 11'\, 2.'t - S riOJ'O) r.". ; 1 . , . /TL , ,...... al ~ 1 1 1 , " lf" • .- 1 .. ' #+ -r t+ 1- /'ft.'t"-" ~. -y,..-l

1 , r 1 ."., . . If' , ... . 11+..,;1-"" + -

It is aIso significant that there is no feeling ofgrounding in this final section - constant motion

among the various voices prevails. The brier referer.cc ta 'd'as a stabilizing pitch at mAli (as

• heard in the bass and bassoons) is obst:ured by the contrdry motion of the different 'Haupt~limme' 65 • parts - the ascending bassoon line againstthe ehromatically descending winds.

Erwartunl!, then, is charaeterized in part by several iIIustrative moments which give rise

to these 'gestures of shock.' Despite the similarity in their effect, eaeh of th"~e moments retains,

citl1er through changing orchestration and texture, its own specifie funetion whieh separates it

from other moments preceding and following. (On a more local level, certain, often enigmatie

connections exist; their role as signifying clements can always be called into question, however,

when placed in the context of the work's overall 'structure'). The result is a musical experienee in

whieh temporal conti nuity is completely disrupted; musical shifts (especially in terms of motion

verses stasis) oceur as frequently as the Woman's psyehologieal shifts from seeming calm to

hysteria, past to present, and reality to illusion. We thus experienee a series of instances which • arc placed in the foreground • an abrupt passage from one 'climax' to the next, with no sense of telcological dlwelopment. This was undoubtedly a revolutionary musical and theatrical

expericncc for the Iistener of Schoenberg's time; as Payne notes, "...a musical illusion is created

of presenting in an imôlant of time the experience which previous ages had seen as an unfolding

process."'" This thought cchoes Schoenberg's own intentions about how Erwartung would he

perceived, since he wrote about the work as a "slow-motion representation of a single second of

maximum spiritual stress..."·z

The notion of musical time, then, is ofcourse very much connected to the disjointed

mann..r in which .Erwartung's Woman experiences time. Douglas Jarman, writing about the

·'Payne, p.29. • .zMalcolm MacDonald, Schoenberg (London: J.M. Dent and Sons, 1976), p.184. 66 • difficulty of comprchending the work. stutes thut "Schoenberg evidenlly fcltthut [Erwurtllng 1. with ils sense of continuous impiovisution. wus un lInrcpeulllb\e experiment. From now on

conventionu\ structuru\ deviccs relum to his music with even greuter frequency."O.1 Erwartung

seems less un experiment. though. thun u deliberute utlempt to creute u musicul unulogy for the

unrepresentuble world of the unconscious: lhe Iislener. Iike the Womun. is deprived of uny

notion of stability. In ilS resistance to conventionul upproaehes. Erwurtung permits the Iislener Il

degree of instinctuul understanding. while stillleaving us undeeided about the ullinmte l'ale of

both theatrical and n;:.!~ical evenls. •

• 9lJarman. p.20S. 67 • Bihliography Adorno, Theodor, W. Philosophy of Modern Music. Translated by Anne G.Mitchell and Wesley V. Blomster. New York: Seabury, 1973.

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Arnold Schoenberg Lelters. Edited by Erwin Stein. Translated by E. Wilkins and E. Kaiser. London: Faber and Faber, 1964.

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