When the French/Polish painter Balthus was asked to write an introduction to an exhibit catalog, he responded: “Balthus is an artist about whom nothing is known. Now let’s look at the paintings.”
The same may be said about Austrian composer Anton Bruckner (1824-1896), whose Symphony No. 4 (“Romantic”) will be performed by the Portland Symphony Orchestra on Tuesday.
Bruckner began his career as a poorly paid and abused teacher’s assistant and was always (at least in public) deferential to other composers, including Brahms, Wagner and Wagner promoter Franz Liszt, having one foot in each of the opposing camps.
Brahms and Bruckner both lived in Vienna, but the arch-rivals seem to have met only once, in 1893, when Brahms applauded a performance of Bruckner’s Mass in F Minor.
Shortly after completing his first symphony, which was poorly received, the composer suffered a nervous breakdown and was committed to an asylum, where he was diagnosed with what today is called obsessive-compulsive disorder. It seems to have been complicated by a severe inferiority complex.
After a brief confinement, he returned to his teaching and composing career, but evidence of his disorder is apparent in his work: constant revision and the attempt to control every aspect of the music, primarily through metrical notations, counting tic.
The composer had other quirks, which can’t be mentioned in a family newspaper but which seem to have stemmed from a rigidly Catholic upbringing in conflict with an extremely strong libido.
Bruckner was attracted to teenage girls because of their perceived purity but never “sinned.” He often proposed marriage to them but was relieved to be turned down.
Near the age of 70, he was accepted by a 17-year-old chambermaid, but in the end she refused to convert to Catholicism.
Bruckner’s first major success was his Symphony No. 4 in E Flat Major, composed in 1874. Its public acclaim came only after major revisions in 1878, including a new scherzo and finale. The finale was rewritten again in 1881, and the symphony premiered the same year under noted conductor Hans Richter. Bruckner made more revisions to the score from 1886 to 1888.
After one successful rehearsal, Bruckner gave Richter a coin as a tip, saying: “Have a beer on me.” The conductor accepted with thanks and always carried the coin as a souvenir.
All of Bruckner’s symphonies are monumental, suffering from what American critic and composer Vergil Thomson called “the masterpiece cult” of hugeness and supposed profundity. The last one was dedicated to God.
They are roughly based on the form of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, but that bottle can’t contain Bruckner’s new wine, its wandering key signatures or its Wagnerian harmonies.
Mahler was one of Bruckner’s most vehement supporters, calling him “a titan at war with the gods.”
He maintained that Bruckner’s lack of intelligence was his major drawback. “From this stems the formlessness of his works. … Bruckner wrestles bravely with the idea but hasn’t the courage to place it foremost and thus to write with a clear consciousness. Thus he wavers, half in Beethoven, half in the new discoveries. … Nevertheless I do not hesitate to designate the symphonies of Bruckner as the most significant symphonic creations that have been written since Beethoven.”
Christopher Hyde is a writer and musician who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at:
classbeat@netscape.net
Send questions/comments to the editors.
