Nationalism, Chauvinism and Racism as Reflected in European Musical Thought and in Compositions from the Interwar Period
This book concerns the ways in which many different types of nationalism, chauvinism and racism penetrated into musical thought in the interwar period, and how the leading artistic personalities of that period reacted to these ideologies. The concept of "nationalism" is understood broadly in this book and covers the entire spectrum of its positive and negative aspects. The topics listed in the book’s title have been discussed on the example of selected four countries, significant with respect to population and territory and representing different social-political systems: Germany (mostly after 1933), Italy, Poland (after 1926) and Great Britain. This selection is also representative of the main ethnic groups in Europe: Anglo-Saxon, Germanic, Latin-Romance and Slavic.
VIII. Postscript: The Decline of Racism and Chauvinism, “Crypto-Nationalism” and the Demythologisation of Nationalist Concepts of Tradition after World War II
To recall Einstein’s metaphor once again, it seems that the apocalypse of World War II and the horrors of the holocaust finally began to cure humanity of its ‘childhood diseases’, though admittedly not the whole of humankind was cured, and not completely. The change was most evident among the inhabitants of Europe, who were probably the first to draw conclusions from these experiences. The memory of Auschwitz and other extermination camps undoubtedly put an end to aggressive biological racism and contributed to compromising other forms of racial doctrine, such as ‘pragmatic’ racism of the colonial type, though struggles with the latter continued after 1945, since segregation based on skin colour was practised even in the United States, that mainstay of democracy and freedom. Antisemitism in its various forms did survive the war, but was more frequently toned down and became more cultural-political than racist. It was a paradox of history that in the last years of his life, Stalin also gave ear to the theory of ‘a global Jewish conspiracy’, as though time had stopped for him in the 1930s. Hannah Arendt ironically commented on this change in the dictator’s views, writing of brazen imitation of the most obvious symbol of Nazism worldwide, and referring to Stalin’s hunt for the Jews as paying his last compliments to his now dead colleague and rival in the struggle for global domination, with whom, to his great frustration, he had been unable to reach a lasting agreement450. There is much truth in this commentary, but also some exaggeration, because Stalin in his paranoid mistrust smelled conspiracies literally in every environment, and does not seem to have planned a ‘final solution’ of the Nazi type. It is, however, also a paradox that late in his life the “great driver of the train of history” managed to combine such seemingly contradictory ideologies as nationalism and Marxism-Leninism, which is reflected in his famous directive to create a socialist art for the Soviet empire that would be socialist in content and national in form (whatever this was supposed to mean)451. Polish composers in the postwar period ←215 | 216→also had to cope somehow with this paradox, which led (as researchers have frequently pointed out) to a huge number of folklore stylisations before 1956 and an equally massive rejection of this trend after the political thaw. Another wave of ostentatious manifestations of the national sentiment in Polish music under communism came in 1975, as part of the aesthetic of “New Romanticism”. It was sometimes signalled by such titles as Krzysztof Meyer’s Polish Symphony and Krzysztof Penderecki’s A Polish Requiem. One could say, by analogy to Maciej Gołąb’s concept of the fluctuations of modernism, that – at least in postwar Poland – we have had something like “fluctuations of nationalism”, whose social-cultural role was similar as under the earlier Partitions of Poland. Just as 19th-century nationalism in both its Romantic and National-Democratic forms was an important integrating factor for the Polish nation divided by the Partitions of the country, so its modernised version also effectively integrated all social classes in the 1980s. In the past, Polish nationalism was a response to the imperialism of states that occupied Polish territories. Later, in communist Poland, it became an efficient ideological weapon against Soviet imperialism, and a confirmation of the thesis presented back in 1912 by Zygmunt Balicki that “nationalism as a national and social trend appears wherever national interests are not (sufficiently) secured by the state…”452 The pontificate of Pope John Paul II led to an unprecedented revival of Polish religious art and to another paradox resulting from Dmowski’s stereotype of “a Pole means a Catholic,” which strove to combine nationalism with this (apparently) most universalist Christian confession. The Catholic religion, as before, played a vital role in the preservation of the nation’s unity (an important historical precedent), while under communism it became an effective antidote for the ‘dialectic materialism’ officially preached by the state, but also for the cynical opportunism and moral relativism of the ruling classes.
Generally speaking, however, the Polish nationalism of the ‘Solidarity’ period (apart from evident historical references to its Romantic counterpart, including the very idea of solidarity as a way of building relations within and outside the country) was much more ‘discreet’ in its manifestations than in the interwar period. Representatives of Polish culture, such as writers, composers and filmmakers, manifested their Polishness more through (consciously or not) references to selected elements of the national tradition than through open ←216 | 217→ideological declarations. This resulted partly from obvious limitations of censorship, since the only then acceptable way of thinking about Poland’s political aspirations was ‘the Polish way to socialism’. All the same, an attentive audience capable of reading “between the lines” (which was necessary with reference to all texts published under “real socialism”) was aware of the obvious parallels between the manifesto of “New Romanticism” in Stanisław Barańczak’s Trusting Distrust453 and Maurycy Mochnacki’s appeals (from before the November Uprising of 1830–31) that opposed Romantic ethos of struggle to Classicist conformism. These parallels led to comparisons between communist Poland and the old Congress Poland454 (under Russian rule, after 1815), while the obvious conclusion was that both these protectorates of the Russian empire proved incapable of satisfying the Polish nation’s aspirations for freedom.
This type of ‘cryptic nationalism’ was not always presented in opposition to the regime. Sometimes it was used as a way of demonstrating the national ←217 | 218→foundations of the ruling ideology. This was the case with one of most likely the last normative theories of socialist realism in music, formulated as late as 1979 (!) by Walther Siegmund-Schulze455. For obvious reasons, the author makes numerous references to the writings of Lenin, Gorky and Sholokhov, but the obvious majority are quotations from Marx, Engels, Eisler and Brecht, while musical examples were selected mostly from the works of the most ‘progressive’ German masters, including classics of socialist East Germany (such as Hans Eisler’s Lenin-Kantate)456.
Various concealed nationalist motivations, not always fully realised and not necessarily political or ideological, were also to be found on the other side of the ‘iron curtain’. One of these were the distinct repertoire preferences evident in the concert life of different European countries, as well as the tendency found in some musicological publications to select subjects for analyses and form value judgments based on a nationalist bias. This tendency was part of a wider phenomenon of ‘cryptic nationalism’ in aesthetic views, sometimes referred to as ‘national musicology’. This is a phenomenon that I will discuss in some more detail.
The impact of tradition and nationality on the choice of research subjects in musicology is probably obvious. In the Polish context, this phenomenon has been described by Maria Trochimczyk as ‘national musicology’457, but to a lesser or greater extent it may be observable in any culture. Though the international canon of musical masterpieces is researched by enthusiasts and researchers all over the world, we take for granted that the majority of studies dedicated to individual composers are (or should be) taken up in the countries which those artists themselves considered as their proper homelands. The case may be a little ←218 | 219→more complicated with eminent émigrés, who are claimed as ‘theirs’ by both their countries of origin and those of their permanent residence458. Also in the international research environment, representatives of various national cultures are expected to be especially competent with regard to music and works by a composer in their own respective cultures.
Usually the very choice of subject for analysis is tantamount to a positive assessment of its artistic value. Sometimes, however, the values of a given tradition determine a negative choice, and the scholar takes up the study of such elements of technique and composition which he or she considers as aesthetically inferior. As I have already written elsewhere459, this was for instance the case with Carl Dahlhaus’s risky ‘analytic stunts’ aiming to prove his aprioristic thesis that the Andante from Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5 is kitschy460. This led the researcher to rather comic pedantry (such as looking for ‘banality’ in the dominant seventh chords containing a suspended fourth that appears in the first four measures) as well as to vague accusations such as that “Tchaikovsky’s cantilena smacks of kitsch because it is used for something more than emphasis.” The author’s conclusion suggests that he dislikes the “theatrical bathos” that attempts “to reach some ideal heights.” In is naturally impossible to demonstrate analytically what the purpose and meaning of Tchaikovsky’s cantilena might be and how it is related to some “ideal heights.” We may only guess that all this reasoning was an attempt at rationalising Dahlhaus’s personal negative feelings concerning Tchaikovsky’s style, and the analysis was an attempt to demonstrate which categories of the composer’s technique translated into the author’s negative aesthetic experience. But in another of Dahlhaus’s texts we find the suggestion that kitsch essentially concerns the sphere of expression, and not of technique, because “kitsch may be ←219 | 220→technically irreproachable.”461 If this is true, then how can one prove analytically that, apart from the author’s subjective feeling, for instance the instrumentation of the main theme of a given movement or the relationship between harmony-melody and articulation-volume can be considered as inferior and classified as kitschy?
As evident from the above example, such argumentation has more to do with music criticism than with analysis. The tone of Dahlhaus’s charges against Tchaikovsky shows that they consider exaggerated emotional expression, the bathos typical of this composer, which Dahlhaus considers as ‘intrusive’, and emotional effusiveness, which he finds ‘garrulous’. But these are ways of expressing emotional characteristics, not just of Tchaikovsky’s style but of all Russian culture, found in speech intonation, acting, and music performance style (the famous string vibrato), even in the visual arts. In terms of Elizabeth Tolbert’s anthropology, these qualities are the socio-emotional essence of Russian culture, a kind of unofficial social contract which defines the verbal and non-verbal ways of expressing emotions462. One could just as well see kitsch in the art of the Russian Orthodox Church, since their aesthetics are different from the one that prevails in Prussian Berlin. The anthropological category I refer to determines the forms of music’s functioning and reception. It would therefore be reasonable to accept the warning found in another Dahlhaus’s text that “it is a mistake to make judgments concerning one manner of existence [of music – note by AT] using the norms of another.”463
Our claim that Dahlhaus judged the products of one culture using the norms of another may seem exaggerated. After all, his criticism of kitsch concerned one specific work, not the entirety of Russian music. Nevertheless, a closer reading of his Idea of Absolute Music and Studien zur Trivialmusik im 19. Jahrhundert does confirm our suspicions. The Berlin scholar usually discovers kitsch in music from the Slavs, less commonly – the Latin-Romance cultural sphere, and he selects his examples without justifying his choice. He could easily discover melodic and ←220 | 221→harmonic banality in German music as well, to mention only Schubert’s piano pieces or Beethoven’s famous ‘hit’ Für Elise. But he may have considered this as blasphemy, as evident from Dahlhaus’s reaction to Hans Georg Naegeli’s claims concerning the banality of some harmonic progressions in Mozart’s Symphony No. 41 in C Major ‘Jupiter’, which Dahlhaus rejected as “narrow-minded” because they focus on details disregarding the context.464. His own ‘expert opinion’ concerning the qualities of Tchaikovsky’s work could well be rejected on the same grounds.
The only arbitrator in this ‘debate of authorities’ – Tchaikovsky and Dahlhaus – can be the international community of competent listeners (artists-performers, critics, composers and musicologists). But life itself, in the form of global concert repertoires, can solve this conflict. Can we accuse world class conductors and orchestras (not only from a Slavic cultural background) who perform this composition of being deluded by the easy charm of kitsch? Is their artistic taste really less reliable than the sophisticated taste of the Berlin scholar?
As we come to the end of the 20th century in our study, cases of ‘negative selection’ of subjects for analysis motivated by national sentiments become rare, which may be the fruit of gradual globalisation. Also the typical repertoire preferences and prejudices of early 20th-century audiences and critics, as exemplified by Artur Rubinstein’s report of the French audience’s dislike of Brahms and by the German academic music circles’ dislike of Debussy – began to disappear. Another sign of progressive international integration is the universal acceptance and application of such theories and composition techniques that originally derived from specific national traditions, and whose authors sometimes represented extreme nationalistic views. The universalisation of those theories and techniques is accompanied by their ‘transplantation’ into other cultural contexts, the ‘acculturation’ of their ideological contexts and the demythologisation of the understanding of music traditions that was represented by their creators before World War II.
One typical example of this process is the spectacular career of two Viennese theories from the early 20th century, which, owing to the industry and effectiveness of émigrés from this cultural environment dominated theoretical thought and analytic practice in the most important (English-speaking) musicological ←221 | 222→centres of the contemporary world. These two theories – Schenkerism and (slightly overshadowed by the former) Reti’s evolutionism – were distinct from each other but complementary, and essentially based on the same ideological assumptions of looking for a hidden unity behind the apparent multiplicity and diversity of specific manifestations. How is that law of nature that reflects the divine unity of being reflected in music, in which it is a sign of genius? As we know, Schenker saw this unifying principle in the archetypal Ursatz which constituted the harmonic-contrapuntal ‘skeleton’ of the organisation of the musical work in the period when the tonal system reigned supreme. Reti, on the other hand, focused on cyclic instrumental forms, looking for the unifying combinations of fundamental intervallic cells hidden behind the ‘façade’ of sound. He shared with Schenker a fascination with musical genius, while the final version of his theory (as frequently stressed in literature of the subject) was largely influenced by another eminent Viennese artist, Arnold Schönberg, and his composition technique based on an evolutionary development of musical discourse by transforming an original idea composed of several simple intervallic cells. The metaphysical foundation of this concept was the dichotomy of unity and multiplicity, the Schönbergian ‘unity of musical space’. Serial procedures, writes Marcin Trzęsiok, symbolise the illusory “spatial and temporal” dimensions of reality. “Behind the apparent multiplicity, there is a unity that an ordinary human mind cannot grasp. Each ‘point’ in time and space already contains the whole in itself.”465
Though the theoretical thought of the above-mentioned Viennese thinkers and Schönberg’s composition technique became universal values, they are deeply rooted in the German musical tradition and intellectual reflection, as confirmed by Eero Tarasti’s well-known statement concerning speculative German 18th/19th-century philosophy, usually discussed in terms of universal values, which was, nevertheless, a typical product of German intellectual culture of that time: “all this tradition claims to be universal. But we all know that it is essentially German.”466←222 | 223→
According to Joseph Kerman, the strong position of Shenkerian thought in English-speaking countries, especially in the United States, results from the domination of musical life in those countries by the great German musical tradition. Such domination is not observed in Romance countries, which focus on their own traditions467. Schenker’s frequently quoted pantheon of musical geniuses consists almost entirely of Germans468, and his theories were undoubtedly inspired by Hegel and Goethe, which makes Schenkerism a system based on German traditions and analytically confirming those traditions. Does this pantheon prove, however, that Schenker himself was motivated by nationalism? Not more, it seems, than time and place could have influenced his thinking. It was a common view during that period that nature divides talents among races and nations as it does among individuals – unequally. The obvious conclusion was that some nations are more musically gifted than others. Fascinated with the phenomenon of musical genius, Schenker strove to consider the largest possible collection of techniques and strategies of composition found in pieces of music which were then commonly (not only in German culture) considered as works of genius. All the civilised world sought universal values in the music of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven. It seemed, therefore, that the expansion of German music was something natural and that its greatest masters discovered some secret laws that were the key to immortal artistic value, globally and quite above the considerations of historical development. As Pierre Bourdieu observed many years later, each culture demonstrates a socially determined tendency to view its arbitrary forms of order, developed into a canon, as products of the laws of nature469. The Schenkerian ‘Teutonism’ (if I may be allowed to draw again on Maciej Gołąb’s terminology) was therefore a spin-off and result of what then seemed as an indisputable fact in Vienna and Berlin – namely, that German music was superior to, and so won the competition with any other music, even in its own territory.←223 | 224→
Schönberg not only saw his own music compositions and theoretical thought as rooted in German musical heritage, but also drew directly on nationalist doctrines popular in the interwar period. Let me refer once again to the statement he made in his essay Nationale Musik (1931): “Remarkably, nobody has yet appreciated that my music, produced on German soil, without foreign influences, is a living example of an art able most effectively to oppose Latin and Slav hopes of hegemony and derived through and through from the traditions of German music…”470. Richard Taruskin observes that Schönberg reels off here in one go the names of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, Wagner, Strauss, Reger and Mahler, listing the elements of technique that he owes to them, and then adds – disarmingly and highly characteristically: “I shut myself off from no one.”471 Schönberg’s quoted statement contains echoes of Volkist and Blut und Boden ideology, and represents a typically nationalist view of one’s own culture as a separate universe, which, naturally, is as legitimate a view for an artist to hold as any other. Webern, on the other hand, came close to chauvinism in his exalted praise of Teutonic music. “If we wish to understand philosophy,” he taught his students in the 1930s, “we must turn to the ancient Greeks. To know and understand music, we must turn to Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and other masters of the Austro-German tradition. […] The music of the greatest composers from other countries is but a faint reflection of the creations of German masters. Berlioz is a French Beethoven, Tchaikovsky – a Russian Schumann, and Elgar – an English Mendelssohn.”472
Today it is obvious that this vision of tradition conceived as an unbroken line of evolution of sound language from Bach to Schönberg is a myth, just like Schenker’s ‘epoch of geniuses’ – a concept so suggestive that 30 years ago Maria Piotrowska still defended it in “Ruch Muzyczny” magazine in a polemic with Tadeusz Zieliński473. It has been proved many ←224 | 225→times474 that the German tradition from which Bach and Handel were born ended with them, and the Viennese classics had more in common musically with the Italian opera buffa than with Bach. This tradition was formed more by the community of verbal than musical language, and therefore the myth in question can be counted among Gellner’s475 cases of ‘inventing tradition’ to justify historiosophic theses, which in turn sanctioned the nationalist point of view.
It is a great paradox of history and the irony of fate that after 1933 all the above-mentioned eminent representatives of the Second Viennese School were pushed outside the margins of the culture that they identified with, that they glorified and described in terms of absolute value. Schenker and Schönberg, as we mentioned before, were banned as ‘non-Aryans’, accused of the Verfalschung and Vergiftung of the great German tradition, while Webern and Berg were condemned as their Aryan ‘passive tools’, copying destructive ideas that came from an alien cultural space and so leading their own culture to inevitable degeneration.
The adaptation of Schenker and Schönberg’s theoretical thought in the Anglo-American world seems to have taken the form – again in Jim Samson’s terms476 - of a ‘transplantation’ of key theoretical ideas accompanied by gradual ‘acculturation’ that got rid of their original ideological context. Other famous theories also derived from the same cultural context, such as Freud’s psychoanalysis, underwent a similar process. The transformation of Freud’s theories on the other side of the ocean, as analysed by Danuta Danek477, took a similar and parallel course as the process of ‘Americanising Schenkerism’478 described by William Rothstein. In both cases, ideological concessions were made to technocracy, academic scientism and pragmatism. In the case of Schenker’s theory, this process had two stages:
1. A departure from metaphysics, from axiological subtexts and dogmatic subjectivism of argument in favour of specifying the vague elements of the theory and details of ←225 | 226→analytic procedure479. One of the leading advocates of Schenkerism (and the translator of Schenker’s works into English) John Rothgeb, wrote that, though Schenker may have considered his teachings as an integral part of his worldview, it was not logically dependent on his extra-musical speculations480. A similar opinion was expressed by the other eminent advocate of the ‘Schenkerisation’ of America and of ‘Americanising’ Schenker – Allen Forte481.
2. An even more distinct concession to ‘typically Anglo-American’ pragmatism, consisting in freeing Schenkerism from the dogma of Ursatz and in a fundamental transformations of his theoretical-analytic procedures, whereby his methodology lost its speculative-deductive character in favour of empirical-inductive techniques. In this way, the primacy of musical works from the “epoch of geniuses” was rejected, and the speculations concerning the Ursatz, which in the orthodox version of Schenker’s theory determined the direction of all analyses, were replaced by an empirically derived network of linear-vertical nods of sound organisation, considered as the ‘structural backbone’ of a given piece of music. As we know, this is the direction that post-Schenkerian ‘revisionist’ methodology was to take.
A similar departure from nationalistically-minded metaphysics and speculations in favour of sober empiricism can be observed in the reception of the ideas of Schönberg and Reti, as exemplified by Alan Walker’s empirical studies in which he attempted to prove the truth of the main theses of the evolutionist concept of ‘unity-in-multiplicity’482. Walker studied perception on the example of representative groups of professional musicians in order to prove the key role of subconsciously perceived ‘organic unity’ in forming value judgments.←227 | 228→←228 | 229→
450 H. Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism, p. 356.
451 Włodzimierz Sokorski in his book Sztuka w walce o socjalizm [Art’s Place in the Struggle for Socialism], Warszawa 1950, pp. 47–48) stressed that the “agony of capitalism” does not mean that nations would melt and disappear. Quite the opposite, it leads to their flourishing in a new, “non-antagonistic” form.
452 Balicki, Nacjonalizm, p. 414.
453 Stanisław Barańczak, Nieufni i zadufani. Romantyzm i klasycyzm w młodej poezji lat sześćdziesiątych [Trusting Distrust. Romanticism and Classicism in the Young Poetry of the 1960s], (Wrocław: Ossolineum, 1971), cf. also: Paweł Strzelecki, “Nowy romantyzm” w twórczości kompozytorów polskich po roku 1975 [The “New Romanticism” in the Works of Polish Composers after 1975], (Kraków: Musica Iagellonica, 2006), pp. 494–495.
454 The Congress Kingdom of Poland (also known as “Congress Poland”) was created at the Vienna Congress in 1815 on the initiative of Russian Emperor Alexander I. This was a semi-autonomous state with its own parliament, government, army, constitution (then one of the most liberal constitutions in the world) and currency, it encompassed the largest portion of the territory of the former Polish-Lituanian Commonwealth. Politically and military it was controlled by Russia by means of personal union and command over the Polish Army by Russian Governor in Warsaw. This agreement worked reasonably well till the rather mysterious death of Alexander I (probably the most liberal and most pro-Polish Russian Tsar in the history). Unfortunately Alexander’s successor – Nicolai I – announced that he would not continue the liberal experiments of his predecessor, whereupon a hardline course towards Poland was taken which ultimately led to dramatic November Uprising and open Polish-Russian war (1830–1831).In spite of some initial local military successes the Polish Army was crashed by the overwhelming forces of the Imperial Russian Army which was supported by the second partitioner of Poland – Prussia. As it was widely believed that the Uprising saved France and Belgium from the danger of Russian invasion, the November Uprising enjoyed considerable support and sympathy in both countries. As a result, a large number of Polish soldiers, political activists, scientists and artists emigrated to Paris thus making the French metropolis de facto a Polish “spiritual capitol” for the entire 19th century.
455 Walther Siegmund-Schultze, “Theorie und Methode des sozialistischen Realismus in der Music”, in: Siegfried Bimberg, Handbuch der Musikaesthetik, (Leipzig: Deutscher Verlag für Musik, 1979), pp. 160–183.
456 Manipulated ideological references to authentic or invented national traditions can be found in socialist realist discourse of all the countries of the then Soviet bloc. Cf.: Sławomir Wieczorek, Na froncie muzyki. Socrealistyczny dyskurs o musyce w Polsce w latach 1948–1955 [At the Music Front. Socialist realist Discourse on Music in Poland, 1948–1955], (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo UWr, 2014).
457 Maja Trochimczyk, “W stronę muzykologii narodowej: muzykolodzy wobec muzyki polskiej” [Toward a National Musicology: Musicologists Write about Polish Music], “Muzyka” 47, Nos. 3–4, pp. 129–143.
458 This concerns mainly those émigré composers whose greatest achievements took place before they left their countries of origin. A classic example is the career of Sergey Rachmaninov, who in the interwar period was one of the greatest authorities of music life in the USA, as Artur Rubinstein also confirms. The Soviet Russia of that period banned Rachmaninov’s music and person completely from its public space for political reasons, but after World War II this ban was lifted, and henceforth the authority of this last of great virtuoso-composers and conductors constantly grew in his fatherland. Presently many Russian musicians and musicologists are convinced that Rachmaninov’s music best embodies “the depths of the Russian soul.”
459 Andrzej Tuchowski, “Music Analysis in the Light of National Traditions”, in: Analiza dzieła muzycznego [Analysis of the Music Work], ed. Anna Granat-Janki, (Wrocław: Akademia Muzyczna im. K Lipińskiego, 2014), pp. 169–185.
460 Carl Dahlhaus, “Über musikalischen Kitsch”, in: Dahlhaus (ed.) Studien zur Trivialmusik im 19. Jahrhundert (Regensurg: Gustav Bosse, 1972), pp. 63–67.
461 Dahlhaus, “Uber die ‘mittlere Musik’ des 19. Jahrhunderts”, in: Helga de la Motte-Haber (ed.) Das Triviale in Literatur, Musik und Bildender Kunst, (Frankfurt am Main: Klostermann, 1972) p. 134, Polish edition: Idea muzyki absolutnej, Kraków: PWM, 1978., p. 474.
462 Elisabeth Tolbert, “Music and Meaning: An Evolutionary Story”, Psychology of Music, 2001, Vol. 29, No. 1, pp. 84–94.
463 C. Dahlhaus, “Trivial Music and Aesthetic Judgment”, in: Christopher Washbourne and Maiken Dermo, Bad Music: The Music We love to Hate, (New York-London: Routledge, 2004) p. 345.
464 Dahlhaus, “Trivial Music and Aesthetic Judgment”, p. 342.
465 Marcin Trzęsiok, “Narodziny dodekafonii z ducha teozofii – Schönberg, Swedenborg i metempsychoza” [The Birth of Dodecaphony from the Spirit of Theosophy – Schönberg, Swedenborg and metempsychosis], in: Ewa Zając and Marta Szoka (ed.), Kompozytor i jego swiat [The Composer and His World] – Bronisław Przybylski in memoriam, (Łódź:Akademia Muzyczna im. G.K. Bacewiczów, 2012), by p. 43.
466 EeroTarasti, “Portrait of a European Scholar: Eero Tarasti interviewed by Lina Navickaite”, Res facta nova, No. 10, PTPN 2008, p. 12.
467 Joseph Kerman: “How We Got into Analysis, and How to Get out”, Critical Inquiry 1980, Vol. 7, pp. 311–331.
468 The exceptions were Scarlatti and Chopin, but the latter, as German authors frequently emphasise, was educated under the guidance of a Polonised German (Elsner), whose models were mainly Bach and Mozart.
469 Pierre Bourdieu, Outline of a Theory of Practice, transl. by Richard Nice, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), p. 164. See also: Bourdieu, Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste, transl. by Richard Nice, (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard Univeristy Press:1984).
470 A. Schönberg, “National Music (2) 1931”, p. 173.
471 Richard Taruskin, “‘Alte Musik’ or ‘Early Music’?” Twentieth-Century Music, Cambridge Univeristy Press, Vol. 8, No. 1, 2011, pp. 3–28.
472 Quoted after: Taruskin, “‘Alte Musik’?”, p. 17.
473 The author herself did not refer to Schenker’s theory in her text, but from the context of her argument it transpires that she considered that Geniezeit as coinciding with the period of the supremacy of functional harmony, and especially with its heyday in the era of Classicism. Zieliński polemically pointed out that talents and geniuses have emerged in different periods of history and in many different places worldwide. Cf. Maria Piotrowska “Harmonika według Zielińskiego” [Harmony According to Zieliński], Ruch Muzyczny, No. 5, 1985, pp. 24–26, Tadeusz A. Zieliński “Geniusze i modele” [Geniuses and Models], Ruch Muzyczny No. 12, 1985, pp. 3–4.
474 Cf.: D. Heartz, Approaching a History of 18th-Century Music, “Current Musicology” 9, 1969, pp. 92–95; Cf. Taruskin, “‘Alte Musik’?”, pp. 17–18.
475 Gellner, Nations and nationalism, p. 72.
476 Jim Samson, “Little Stories from the Balkans”, in: Florian Scheding, Eric Levi (eds) Music and Displacement, (Toronto: Lansham, 2010), pp. 181–194.
477 Danuta Danek, Introduction to Gustaw Bychowski’s treatise Słowacki i jego dusza. Studium psychoanalityczne [Słowacki and His Soul. A Psychoanalytic Study] Warsaw 1930, reprinted by: Universitas, Kraków, 2002, p. VI.
478 William Rothstein, “The Americanization of Heinrich Schenker”, in: Hedi Siegel (ed.) Schenker Studies, Cambridge University Press, 1990, pp. 193–203.
479 Rothstein lists the verbal oppositions that illustrate the differences between Shenker’s rhetoric in its original, Viennese form and its American version. I quote this list below:
|claim to truth||scholarly|
Quoted after: Rothstein, “The Americanization ”op. cit., p. 198.
480 Robert Snarrenberg, “Competing Myths: The American Abandonment of Schenker’s Organicism”, in: Theory, Analysis and Meaning in Music, ed. Anthony Pople, (Cambridge: Cambridge Univeristy Press, 1994), pp. 29–57.
481 David C. Berry notes that elements of Schenker’s theory were introduced into the syllabuses of systematic courses of harmony as early as 1925 by a New York theory teacher, George A. Wedle, lecturing at the Institute of Musical Art. Cf. David C. Berry, “Schenker’s First ‘Americanization’: G. Wedle, the Institute of Musical Art. and the ‘Appreciation Racket’”, Gamut Online Journal of the Music Theory Society of the Mid-Atlantic, 2011, Vol. 4, No. 1, http://trace.tennessee.edu/gamut/vol4/iss1/ accessed: 12.10. 2014.
482 Alan Walker, A Study in Musical Analysis, London: Barrie and Rockliff, 1962.