The Operas of Alban Berg: Volume 2 Lulu [Reprint 2020 ed.] 9780520343016

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T H E O P E R A S OF A L B A N B E R G /

LULU

Frontispiece. Alban and Helene Berg.

, alban berg

THE O P E R A S OF

VOLUME TWO

/

LULU

GEORGE PERLE

U N I V E R S I T Y OF C A L I F O R N I A

BERKELEY

j

LOS

ANGELES

j

PRESS

LONDON

University of California Press, Berkeley and Los Angeles, California University of California Press, Ltd., London, England ©1985 by The Regents of the University of California Printed in the United States of America ISBN 0 - 5 2 0 - 0 4 5 0 2 - 5

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Perle, George, 1 9 1 5 The operas of Alban Berg. Bibliography: v. 1, p. 223-226; v. 2, p. Includes index. Contents: v. 1. Wozzeck — v. 2. Lulu. 1. Berg, Alban, 1885-1935. 2. Berg, Alban, 1885-1935. Wozzeck. 3. Berg, Alban, 1885-1935. Lulu. I. Title. ML410.B47.P48

782.i'o92'4

ISBN 0-520-03440-6 (v. 1)

76-52033

ISBN 0-520-04502-5 (v. 2)

Illustration credits: Frontispiece and Number 2, Dr. Volker Scherliess. Numbers 1 and 17, Universal Edition, Vienna. Numbers 3, 7, 8, 9 , 1 2 , and 13, Musiksammlung der Österreichische Nationalbibliothek and Universal Edition, Vienna. Number 4, Dorothea Robetin. Number 5, Wiener Stadt- und Landesbibliothek. Number 6, The New York Public Library. Number 10, The Library of Congress, Lawrence Schoenberg, and Helene Berg. Number 1 1 , George Perle. Number 14, Zürcher Stadttheater. Number 15, Texaco Inc. Number 16, Dr. Friedrich Cerha. Numbers 18 and 19, Charles Patterson Van Pelt Library of the University of Pennsylvania and the Österreichische Musikzeitschrift. Numbers 20, 24, and 27, Herbert Reichner Verlag. Number 2 i , Erich Alban Berg. Number 22, Musiksammlung der Österreichische Nationalbibliothek. Numbers 23, 25, and 26, Louis Krasner.

CONTENTS

List of Illustrations More Acknowledgments

vii ix

ONE.

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

TWO.

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto

33

The Formal Design

68

The Musical Language of Lulu

85

THREE. FOUR. FIVE.

six.

1

The Last Years

237

"Eins nach dem Andern"

260

Bibliography

297

General Index

303

Index of Examples

313

v

ILLUSTRATIONS

Frontispiece. Alban and Helene Berg. ì. Alban Berg. Frontispiece in the score of the Lyric Suite (1927). 2. Helene Berg. 3. A page of the manuscript draft of the De Profundis setting in the Lyric Suite. 4. Hanna Fuchs-Robettin. 5. The seating-plan for Kraus's private presentation of Pandora's Box in Vienna on May 29, 1905. 6. Frank Wedekind. 7. The film-scenario insert in the Lulu Particeli. 8. A page of the Film Music in the Particeli. 9. The last completed page of Berg's full score of Lulu. 10. Berg's letter to Schoenberg containing his master array, July 27,1920. 1 1 . A quotation from Lulu affirming the composer's lifetime contract with Universal Edition. 12. First page of Berg's typescript of the libretto of Lulu. 13. A page of the last scene, in Berg's typescript of the libretto. 14. Program of the world première of Lulu, Zurich, June 2 , 1 9 3 7 .

vii

Illustrations

vili

15. Advertisement in the New York Times, December 19, 1980, announcing the Lulu telecast. 16. Dr. Friedrich Cerha. 17. The Waldhaus. 18-19. A letter from Helene Berg to Alma Mahler Werfel, informing her of Berg's composition of the Violin Concerto in memory of her daughter, Manon Gropius. 20. Manon Gropius. 21. Albine, Alban Berg's daughter. 22. The young Berg's acknowledgment of his paternity of Albine. 23. A picture-postcard of the house in which Alban Berg was born, inscribed by the composer. 24. Alban Berg's deathmask. 25. Louis Krasner and Helene Berg in Barcelona for the première of the Violin Concerto. 26. Berg's study in the apartment at Trauttmansdorffgasse 27 in Vienna. 27. Alban Berg. The last photo.

MORE ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The list of acknowledgments in the preceding volume was intended to be a comprehensive one, and included expressions of appreciation for assistance in my work on Berg's second opera, as well as his first. But now that the second volume is finally ready for publication some addenda are in order. First of all, a regrettable oversight must be corrected: the original list should have included my thanks to Stanley Sadie, editor of The New Grove, for permission to include excerpts from my article on Berg. Universal Edition, A-G, Vienna, the exclusive publisher of Berg's music, whom I have already thanked for permission to include copyrighted material in my musical examples, was most prompt and helpful in response to my various inquiries. Above all, I am grateful to U.E. and its American representative, Ronald Freed of European-American Music, for their extended loan of Friedrich Cerha's completed full score of the third act of Lulu. I am deeply indebted to Dorothea Robetin for allowing me to examine the annotations that Berg inserted into the copy of the published score of the Lyric Suite that he gave to her mother, Hanna Fuchs-Robettin, and for showing me Berg's letters to her mother. Dr. Günter Brosche, Director of the Music Department of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek in Vienna, and Dr. Rosemary Hilmar, custodian of its Berg collection, were most hospitable and helpful during my work at the library in October 1981. Professor Elisabeth Lafite graciously permitted me to quote extensive excerpts from articles that originally appeared in her distinguished journal, the Österreichische Musikzeitschrift. Professor Joan Smith of the University of California at Santa Barbara was kind enough to read the completed typescript of Volume Two and to assist me in proofreading the musical examples. In the reading of galley and page proofs I had the generous assistance of David Pitt. Significant material assis-

ix

More Acknowledgments x

tance was rendered by the City University of New York (Queens College), through whose kind offices I received a grant to cover the cost of preparing the musical examples for publication. Specific instances of assistance by other individuals are acknowledged in footnote and bibliographical references in the following pages. Special thanks go to Henry and Patti Ziegler, whose wedding gift to me and my wife Shirley, a summer's loan of their lovely house in West Goshen, Connecticut, provided the haven I needed to complete my most difficult chapter, on the musical language of Lulu. And finally, there is Shirley, who knows what I have to thank her for.

F R O M WOZZECK

1 TO

LULU

Between Wozzeck and Lulu Berg's musical language was transformed. A radical departure in style and technique was already evident when he took up his pen again after the completion of the first opera. From a letter to his wife we can surmise that he began his next work, the Chamber Concerto for Piano and Violin and Thirteen Wind Instruments, within a few weeks after the private publication of the vocal score of Wozzeck in January 1923. 1 In Berg's ceuvre the Chamber Concerto represents—as do the Serenade and the Suite for Piano in Schoenberg's and the String Trio in Webern's—a turn toward a more objective, more "classical" style, consistent with the aim that motivated Schoenberg's formulation of the twelvetone system: "[to lay] the foundations for a new procedure in musical construction which [seems] fitted to replace those structural differentiations provided formerly by tonal harmonies." 2 Berg's continuing preoccupation with systematic compositional statements of the totality of pitch classes can be traced all the way back to the last song of Opus 2, where a white-key glissando in the left hand of the piano part occurs simultaneously with a black-key glissando in the right, a twelve-tone aggregate that anticipated by about twenty years the white-key and black-key clusters of the Acrobat's Leitmotiv in Lulu. Other non-serial twelve-tone collections are found in the Altenberg Lieder, the Three Pieces for Orchestra, and Wozzeck. One of the principal themes of the Altenberg Lieder is the earliest example we have of an ordered twelve-tone set, and in the Chamber Concerto Berg returns to this concept of the twelve-tone series as theme, the melodic identity of which is preserved through its more or less fixed linear contour. To be sure, the Chamber Concerto is still far 1 Berg 65, p. 493.

2 Schoenberg 75, p. 218.

1

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

2

from the twelve-tone system, the fundamental premises of which were unfolded for the first time in Schoenberg's compositions between 1921 and 1923. Schoenberg was eager to discuss these newest developments with Berg, as we learn from the latter's letter of April 1 , 1923, to Helene: "Schoenberg himself was very nice and very friendly to me again. Unfortunately however, at the expense of other friends, whom he attacked. Above all Webern and Polnauer, who always say, 'Oh, yes, I've already also done thus and so,' whenever he speaks to them of his theoretical discoveries. Since he doesn't get this from me, he wants to show me all the secrets of his latest works." 3 The Chamber Concerto shows the influence of Schoenberg's new technical procedures in its consistent use of the basic transformation operations of the twelve-tone system—prime, inversion, retrograde-inversion, and retrograde— and in the implied hierarchical equivalence of these operations. 4 Berg, however, employs them in a manner, and within a context, that has nothing to do with Schoenberg's twelve-tone system. The Schoenbergian tone row is an abstract intervallic pattern that remains invariant as a unitary structure regardless of its aspect (i.e., transformation) and transpositional level, and that presumably determines all the pitch-class relations of a given musical complex. In the Chamber Concerto, both ordered and unordered twelve-tone collections occur merely as some among many components of any given section of the work, and the literal transformation operations are employed primarily as formal procedures. In this latter respect the Chamber Concerto recalls the non-dodecaphonic first movement of Schoenberg's Serenade, Op. 24, in the exposition of which "periodicity, dependent in tonal music upon functional harmonic relations, results from the contrapuntal manipulation of a total musical complex rather than of a melodic subject. Thus the whole section comprising bars 1 - 8 is literally inverted at bars 17-24, and is exactly repeated (except for occasional octave displacements) against new material at bars 9-16, that section being in turn inverted as a totality at bars 25-32, repeated at bars 33-40, and again inverted at bars 41-48." 5 In the Chamber Concerto, however, the operations affect larger divisions of the formal design, all four transformations are employed, and the transformations are consistently literal only in respect to pitch-class elements, not in respect to register, rhythm, doublings, etc. The thirty-measure "theme" of the first movement occurs in turn in each of its aspects in the succeeding "variations": Var. 1 , prime; Var. 2, retrograde; Var. 3, inversion; Var. 4, retrograde-inversion; Var. 5, prime. In the second movement a large A B A design is repeated in retrograde, and since at its initial return the thirty-measure A section is inverted, in the second half of the movement it returns first in the retrograde-inversion and then in the retrograde. The third movement may be divided into six sections, each of which simultaneously paraphrases both formal divisions that occupy the same relative position in the two preceding movements. The design of the whole may be seen in the accompanying diagram. 6 3 Berg 65, p. 498. 4 Perle 81a, Chapter One. 5 Ibid., pp. 31f. 6 Though the formal divisions indicated in the diagram do not always coincide with those

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

Diagram

1

Motto

I. Thema scherzoso con Variazioni Theme: 1-30

Var. 1: 31-60 (prime)

II. Adagio

for piano and wind ensemble Var. 2: 61-120 (retrograde)

Var. 3:121-150 Var. 4:151-180 Var. 5:181-240 (retrograde(inversion) (prime) inversion)

for violin and wind ensemble -prime

retrograde

A: 241-270 (prime)

B: 283-313

z: 322-330

A:361-390 (inversion)

x: 271-282

y: 314-321

A: 331-360 (inversion)

z: 391-399

B: 408-438

x: 439-450

A: 451-480 (prime)

y: 400-407 III. Rondo ritmico con Introduzione 481-534

535-576

for piano, violin, and wind ensemble 577-629

630

631-670

671-709

710-785

If this plan seems schematic and contrived, so, eventually, does the composition itself, in spite of the remarkable scoring, the clarity and consistency of the harmonic material, and the attractiveness of m a n y of the thematic ideas. The paraphrase technique that governs the formal design is inflexible in its constant reproduction of the same relative formal dimensions, and this lack of variety in the shape of the w o r k is emphasized by the static character of the tonal language. Berg borrows from the twelve-tone system the concept of literal transformation but not the equally valid concept of transposition; thus, w h e r e a given section is paraphrased in its original or retrograde aspect there is never a change in pitch level, and w h e r e it is paraphrased in the inversion or retrograde-inversion there is never a change in the axis of symmetry that determines the complementary pitch relations. T h o u g h in his curious dedicatory letter to Schoenberg Berg refers to "passages that correspond to the laws set u p b y y o u for 'composition w i t h twelve notes related only to one another,' " 7 it is obvious that at the time he understood nothing at all about the implications of these " l a w s . " The establishment in II/i of Wozzeck of harmonic areas differentiated hierarchically through the employment of variously transposed basic cells and aggregates of basic cells, and in III/4 through a variously transposed vertical set, w a s illustrated in Volume I, Chapter Five. Such referential collections are differentiable in terms of their pitch content, since, in general, transposition of a collection of fewer than twelve pitch classes will revise the pitch content. A pitch-class collec-

indicated in Berg's own "tabular survey" (Reich 65, p. 146; Redlich 57b, pp. 124f.), they are consistent with his use of double bars to indicate formal divisions in the score. 7 Reich 65, pp. 143ff.

From Wozzeck to Lulu tion that consists of all twelve elements, however, cannot be differentiated from any other such collection except by segmentation of the twelve-tone collection into subsets of different content or through a linear ordering of the twelve elements. Criteria for the association of different forms of a twelve-tone set were already demonstrated in Schoenberg's Suite for Piano, Op. 25, composed between 1921 and 1923. Though Schoenberg explained the concept of the tone row as originating in an attempt to establish the equivalence of all twelve pitch classes,8 this supposed purpose had already been displaced by others in this, his first work wholly based on the twelve-tone system. In the Musette, for example, the priority of certain pitches over others is emphatically asserted through the employment of g-d\> as a pedal. The special role assigned to these notes has its source in the structure of the row itself: g-d\> is an invariant adjacency in the limited group of set forms on which the work is based (Ex. 1).9 Other invariant relations established through the composer's choice of set forms are also significantly exploited for their structural implications. The first two and last two elements of Example 1

8 Schoenberg 75, p. 219. 9 The following symbols will be employed to represent set forms: P, R, I, RI, for the respective transformations—prime, retrograde, inversion, retrograde-inversion; T (transposition) numbers 0 to 11 to denote the specific pitch-level of a given transformation of the row, these numbers being assigned with reference to the initial pitch class of P or I and the final pitch class of R or RI, with 0 always representing c, 1 always representing cH/d\>, etc. The consistent representation of c by the integer 0 is a departure from the traditional practice of representing the initial element of a referential prune setform by pitch class number 0, whatever the letter name of that initial element may be. The principal advantage of the new terminology is that it makes possible consistent identification of the axis of symmetry of inversionally related set-forms by the sum of transposition numbers of any pair of inversionally complementary forms of any set (cf. pp. 167ff., below). Secondary advantages are that it eliminates the necessity of an advance and usually arbitrary determination of the set form to be regarded as "referential," and that it facilitates identification of cyclically permuted set-forms. This last advantage is particularly relevant to Berg's twelve-tone practice; in Example 6, for instance, we can infer that the set form designated as "2-P 5 " is cyclically permuted to commence on a\>, the seventh element of its "normal" ordering, which would commence on/, pitch class no. 5. (In the musical illustrations of tone rows the accidental refers only to the note that it immediately precedes. Precautionary natural signs are, however, occasionally employed.)

From Wozzeck to Lulu P4 are respectively identical, in order and in pitch, with the corresponding elements of RI 10 , and the remaining equivalently paired forms, R 10 and I 4 , P10 and RI 4 , R 4 and I 10 , are, consequently, similarly related. The row is consistently partitioned into three four-note segments, one of which is equivalent to its own retrograde-inversion, in consequence of which the same melodic cell occurs at four different pitch levels, though each transformation of the row occurs at only two (Ex. 2). The resulting ambiguity is exploited in the composition. Example 2

RI 10

10

«•=fe

HI,

Such criteria of twelve-tone set-structure and association do not yet appear in the Chamber Concerto. The Chamber Concerto nevertheless represents a very large first step in the evolution of the Klangideal and twelve-tone language of Lulu. It is the first work in which Berg attempts, in his own way, to establish a more or less continuous and consistent circulation of the totality of pitch classes. In the opening bars of the first movement, the segment of the "motto" that is derived from the German pitch-class names contained in the name Arnold Schonberg is prefixed by the "missing" notes of the semitonal scale to form a thematic twelvetone row (Ex. 3). (The two remaining segments of the "motto" are similarly derived from Anton Webern and Alban Berg.) Incidental linear details also frequently tend to unfold the total chromatic—for example, the first passage assigned to the bassoon, where the first four and last two notes of Example 3 recur, joined to the beginning of the third segment of the "motto" and prefixed by the four "missing" notes which will convert the whole into a twelve-tone formation (Ex. 4). At mm. 8ff. a contrasting melodic idea is assigned to the clarinet: this again employs the totality of pitch classes, though not in the form of a "row," since repetitions occur. The bass line simultaneously begins a twelve-tone series consisting of the four mutually exclusive augmented triads. In mm. 16-20 the bass Example 3

Js-

Example 4

5

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

6

line unfolds the complete series of descending perfect fourths against a Hauptstimme based on increasingly extensive minor-third patterns that culminate in a tone row consisting of the three mutually exclusive diminished 7th chords. 1 0 Twelve-tone rows are more explicitly employed as basic thematic material in the A sections of the second movement, w h i c h commences with a threefold statement of a tone row in the solo violin, followed by a twofold statement of a second tone row in oboe followed b y trumpet. 1 1 The next section opens with a theme of eleven different pitch classes in the violin, with the missing element, a\>, sustained throughout this theme in the bassoon. The second tone row returns in free augmentation to form the bass line of mm. 270-279. There are occasional hints of harmonic procedures f o u n d in Berg's mature twelve-tone works, as in Example 5, w h e r e the concluding three-note segment of a twelve-tone theme is anticipated as an ostinato accompaniment of this theme, and in mm. 1 - 4 of the first movement, w h e r e the harmonic background is freely derived from segments of the thematic row. Example 5 mm. 3 2 2 f f .

i j

i

iJ

i

y

ti

j

i

'i

N o n e of these details is carried through far e n o u g h to make of the C h a m b e r Concerto, or even any section of the Chamber Concerto, an example of anything that can reasonably be called "twelve-tone composition." Remote from Berg's subsequent work as the Chamber Concerto thus is in important technical respects, there are nevertheless numerous explicit features that point to the music of Lulu: the paraphrased restatements of large formal divisions; the e m p l o y m e n t of a special rhythmic motive w i t h an important structural role; the presence of a literal palindrome at the midpoint of each work (mm. f355~366f of the C h a m b e r Concerto and the Interlude b e t w e e n the two scenes of A c t II of Lulu); the association of independent twelve-tone sets and the use of non-serial as well as serial sets; the characterization of each series by a specific linear contour that has priority over all others assigned to the given series; the presence of a pervasive harmonic atmosphere that has priority over any given set. T h o u g h Lulu is a twelve-tone work and the Chamber Concerto is not, in some respects this distinction reflects only a difference in the degree to w h i c h twelve-tone elements play a role, rather than fundamental differences in the technical character of the two w o r k s — w h i c h is not to dispute the existence and significance of these differences. 10 Jarman 79, Ex. 102. 11 This second tone row is accompanied in strict parallel motion with itself by a series of diminished 7th chords. The four additional pitch-levels at which the row occurs are simply doublings of the Hauptstimme and cannot be construed as transposed set forms. Cf. p. 3, above.

From Wozzeck to Lulu Writing to Webern on October 12,1925, almost twelve weeks after completing the score of the Chamber Concerto,12 Berg mentions his "first attempt at strict twelve-tone serial composition/' a new setting of "Schliesse mir die Augen beide," a poem by Theodor Storm which he had already provided with a tonal setting in 1907.13 In this new technique, he tells Webern, "I am, unfortunately, not yet as advanced as you are." In fact, these twenty bars show far more awareness of the structural implications of a twelve-tone set than anything that Webern had achieved by this time. Berg's choice of a set, the symmetrical all-interval series discovered by his pupil, F. H. Klein,14 is in itself significant in this respect. By employing this set both in its original ordering and in a cyclical permutation that interchanges the relative position of the two hexachords, the composer is able to exploit the boundary elements of each hexachord as invariants that provide a basis for the association of different set-forms (Ex. 6).15 The sets are unfolded in a manner that provides a structural basis for the binary formal design. The permuted Ig form (2-Ig) is introduced at the beginning of the second of the two sections in a statement, assigned to the piano, that echoes the statement of P5 assigned to the voice in the opening bars (Ex. 7). The vocal line is entirely syllabic and its phrase patterns are strictly consistent with the natural prosody of the text. As a consequence, each set-statement in the vocal part is interrupted by a caesura at a different point, with the five statements exactly divided by the formal break that separates the two quatrains of the text. Thus there are two and one-half statements in each section, so that the vocal line of the second section commences with the same Example

r2-

p

6

s

2-i0 -l-Io

12 The date that stands at the end of the score—July 23, 1925—presumably refers to the completion of the orchestration. The dedicatory letter to Schoenberg is dated February 9 and describes the composition as having been "completed only today, on my fortieth birthday." A composer has certain options in selecting the date to mark the completion of a work: this may refer to the short score, a rough or a fair copy of the full score, or various revisions of one or another "completed" version. Berg usually managed to find a date that had some special significance for him, preferably one that coincided in number with his supposedly fateful "23." 13 The letter to Webern is quoted in Redlich 55. In regard to the date of the earlier song, see Volume I, p. 3. 14 F. H. Klein 25, M. 15 The T-number of each set form will be determined with reference to the stemmed notes in the example, representing the initial pitch class of 1-P or 1-1 or the final pitch class of 1-R or 1-RI. (Cf. note 9, above.) An interchange of the two hexachords produces a "secondary set" (cf. Perle 81a, p. 100), here indicated by the prefix "2."

F r o m Wozzeck t o Lulu

Example 7

cyclical p e r m u t a t i o n of P s that is a s s i g n e d to t h e p i a n o at t h e b e g i n n i n g of t h e p i e c e (2-P5/ EX. 6). T h e v o c a l setting of the initial pair of v e r s e s is s h o w n in E x a m p l e 8. T h e t w o p h r a s e s t o g e t h e r f o r m a c l o s e d g r o u p t h r o u g h t h e r e t u r n to t h e three initial p i t c h classes. T h e initial a n d c l o s i n g f o u r - n o t e collections ( " x " a n d " y " ) are a s s i g n e d a basic structural f u n c t i o n . A reiterated s t a t e m e n t of "y" in t h e p i a n o (Ex. 8) m a r k s the m i d p o i n t of t h e first section of the piece. It a p p e a r s first in the c o n t i n u a t i o n of 2-P 5 a n d t h e n as the initial s e g m e n t of a cyclically p e r m u t e d s t a t e m e n t of R 5 . In t h e last f i v e b a r s this p r o g r e s s i o n of " x " to "y" is r e v e r s e d (Ex. 9).

Example 8

Example 9

f

mm. 16ff.

itft 1 J'7 J7

P :

, k

L

]

v-

3

3 —

i f P ^ y

5

u

X

—

4

'j- = ^

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

Berg's characteristic practice of combining unordered and partially ordered pitch collections with serially ordered sets—a practice that significantly distinguishes his twelve-tone technique from Schoenberg's and Webern's—is already found in this "first attempt at strict twelve-tone serial composition." In the first half of the second section, mm. 11-15, strict linear statements of P5 in the voice and I8 in the uppermost line of the piano are accompanied by harmonic material that is apparently freely derived from P10. The new set form is partitioned as shown in Example 10, with each segment serving as an unordered pitch collection and the order of the segments relative to one another revised as indicated by the letter-names that identify them in the example. (The dyad at " a " and " e " is combined with two pitches taken from the I8 series, g and b\>, to form a four-note collection. Notes in parentheses in the example show points at which P10 coincides with P5 or I g in the compositional statements of these set forms.) The employment of a set form and a procedure that do not occur elsewhere differentiates these five bars from the remainder of the piece, clarifying the binary design and giving emphasis to the recapitulatory function of the five bars that follow. 16 Example 10

A s in the Altenberg Lieder, the Three Pieces for Orchestra, and Wozzeck, in this setting of "Schliesse mir die A u g e n beide" there are simultaneities consisting of all twelve pitch classes. The eleven different intervals of the row are set forth in the registral distribution of the notes: reading Example 11a from top to bottom, w e have i-P 5 as a twelve-tone chord marking the conclusion of the first section; reading Example 11b from bottom to top, w e have 2-I8 as a twelve-tone chord marking the conclusion of the second section. The former is linearly generated (with the aid of the sustained damper pedal) by two overlapping cyclically permuted statements of P5, the latter by the unfolding of the " x " collection as illustrated in the last two bars of Example 9 simultaneously with an I 8 form from which that collection has been deleted. In Example 8 the vocal setting of the opening pair of lines is shown. The setting of the closing pair (Ex. 12) is recapitulatory both in that it restores the original contour of P5 and in its approximate restatement, in the very last phrase, of the initial rhythmic pattern assigned to the voice. The twelve-tone version of "Schliesse mir die A u g e n beide" can hardly be 16 The seven pitch classes in the piano part of m. 14, at the same time that they unfold segments "b" and "c" of P10 (Ex. 10), include the total content of the initial hexachord of 1-P5/ although none of the dyads formed by adjacencies in P10 occurs in P5 or in any of the other set forms employed. This intersection of pitch-class content may explain the special role assigned to PI0.

9

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

10

Example

11

$ Example 12

5 Jh 1 1 P J rLIT It, lb,T J J

P 1P -/ r =

¡,, \,F—1—j^-,

i—

regarded as more than a compositional exercise. It nevertheless demonstrates, in a piece whose brevity and simplicity have permitted us to give a complete description of the relation between its formal design and the structural implications of the set, certain characteristic features of Berg's personal twelve-tone language. One of these is the use of cyclic permutations and other variant versions of the set. The criteria that determine the choice of aspect and pitch level become vastly more sophisticated and complex, but the basic approach is already implied in the song. The unfolding of a primary harmonic progression derived from the set, as illustrated in Examples 8-9, is assigned a similar structural function on a macrocosmic scale in Lulu. More directly, "Schliesse mir die A u g e n beide" w a s a preparatory study for the Lyric Suite. In the same letter in which Berg tells Webern of the completed song, he reports that he is working on a projected "suite for string quartet" that is to consist of "6 rather short movements of a lyrical rather than symphonic character." 17 The first movement employs the same all-interval series. This, however, is only the principal one of three twelve-tone configurations that play a significant structural role in the movement. Thus, from the very beginning of his adoption of the twelve-tone system, Berg departs from Schoenberg's principle that a twelvetone work should be based on a single series. 18 If, however, w e define the set of the first movement in terms of its hexachordal content rather than in terms of a specific ordering assigned to that content, w e find that every twelve-tone configuration in the movement is in fact a representation of the same source set or trope.19 17 Redlich 57a, pp. 177f. 18 Cf. Rufer 54, pp. 106ff. 19 A trope is a segmented twelve-tone set that is characterized not by order but by the pitchclass content of its segments. The term was introduced by Josef Hauer to designate the type of twelvetone set on which he based his system of twelve-tone composition. Differently ordered tone rows of identical segmental content may be said to belong to the same trope or to be derived from the same source set, a term introduced by Milton Babbitt. Cf. Perle 81a, pp. 5ff. and 129.

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

Example 13 illustrates (a) the primary serial ordering; (b) an auxiliary series in which the same hexachordal content is ordered as a segment of the cycle of perfect fifths; and (c) a version in which each hexachord is arranged as a scale, the last occurring in a variety of modes, i.e., cyclic permutations of the hexachordal scale. Example 1 3 a

i *

II'

»

Sets employed in other movements are related to the principal series of the first movement and to each other through invariant linear details rather than through common segmental content. The fourth and tenth notes of Example 13a are interchanged to produce the series on which the outer sections of the third movement are based (Ex. 14). The series with which the final movement begins combines the initial four-note segments of the principal series of the first and third movements (Ex. 15). The manner in which a second series is derived from the first in the finale (Ex. 16) is typical of the referential function assigned to fixed registral relationships in Berg's twelve-tone language. The only movements of the Lyric Suite that are consistently twelve-tone are the first, third (exclusive of the Trio), and sixth. Twelve-tone configurations are included among the chief themes of the intervening non-serial movements: in the Andante amoroso, the Hauptstimme, mm. 1 - 3 ; in the Adagio appassionato, viola, mm. Example 1 4

,t

-

*

tfm

f

Example 1 5

(Cf. E x . 14)

(Cf. E x . 13a)

11

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

12

Example 16 A-P c

5

B-P-

T—r

U

w

f 5 i f f . , a chromatic analogue of the principal series of the first movement (the alternate notes progress along diverging cycles of semitones, just as they progress along diverging cycles of perfect fifths in the series of the first movement); in the Presto delirando, the first twelve notes. The series of the twelve-tone sections of the third movement (Ex. 14) is anticipated in the second at mm. 24-32 and 94-100, and, more ambiguously, at mm. 56-59 and 77-78; the principal series of the sixth movement (Ex. 16) is anticipated in the fifth, where it is the sole basis of pitchclass relations in the Trio (tenebroso), and where it also occurs in combination with non-dodecaphonic elements in the two reprises of the principal section (mm. 1 3 3 147, second violin and viola; mm. 380-383, viola and cello; mm. 402-406, first violin and cello). The series on which the first movement is based returns in a nonserial context as the theme of the second section of the Andante (mm. 16-23, where the first violin is given the last five notes of the series in P8 followed by the complete series in I 2 ). In the analytical notes that he prepared for Rudolf Kolisch, leader of the quartet that gave the first performance of the work on January 8, 1927, Berg discussed the significance of these serial interrelations among the movements: 20 The row of the first movement is changed in the course of the [second, third, fifth, and sixth] through the displacement of several notes. (This change is immaterial with respect to the line, but significant with respect to its character—"subjection to fate.") . . . Connections between the individual movements are achieved—apart from th). The composer calls Hanna's attention "to our numbers, 10 and 23," by showing these as factors of the numbers of bars comprised in each movement and in sections of movements. The musical cross-references and quotations are identified. The suppressed texts of the quotation from Zemlinsky and of the finale are restored and carefully laid out so that the implied vocal setting of each syllable is unmistakable. Only in respect to the finale do the secrets revealed in the one copy of the score that the composer prepared especially for Hanna Fuchs-Robettin qualify or enlarge our conception and understanding of the Lyric Suite as we have known it hitherto, in the experience of studying the published score and hearing the work performed. Many other composers, to express a private or admitted symbolism, a symbolism that alters nothing in the intrinsic character of the music, 30 have exploited the correspondences between notes and the ways in which they may be 27 Green 77a, IABSN. 28 Jarman 79, p. 228. 29 See Chapter 6, note 57, below. 30 The preceding analytical discussion of the Lyric Suite was written many years before my discovery of the annotated score. We now know, for example, that those metronome marks that are multiples of 50 are, according to Berg's private number symbolism, to be understood as multiples of 10 x 5, and that in employing ten different set forms in the concluding section of the finale he must also have been making a reference to that symbolism (though there is no specific annotation to this effect). Our analysis of the composition is not at all affected by this new information, though our analysis of the composer may be.

From Wozzeck to Lulu represented by letters or numbers. Is our comprehension of the Allegretto gioviale enhanced when we learn that its principal tone row has as its boundary elements pitches whose letter names are the initials of Hanna Fuchs-Robettin and that its metronome marking, 100, is a multiple of "her" number, and the number of bars, 69, a multiple of "his"? The sense of the second movement is diminished, rather than increased, if we attend too closely to the details of the composer's program notes, with its special themes for Hanna's children "Dodo" and "Munzo," and its special music for their games and quarrels. Describing this movement as the "most beautiful music I have ever written" in a letter to Hanna before the work had yet been performed or published, Berg wrote: "Even an unsuspecting listener will feel, I believe, something of the loveliness that hovered before me, and that still does, when I think of you, dearest." What confirmation does that "unsuspecting listener" need of the meaning he will discover in this movement, other than what is already given in its tempo and character marking, Andante amoroso, and in the implications of the return of its principal subject in a more impassioned and intense context in the fourth movement? The continuous text inserted into the fifth movement and incorporating the printed headings Presto delirando, Tenebroso, and di nuovo tenebroso attempts to parallel in words and even in its purely graphic components the expressive character of the music, but it can add nothing and was not meant to add anything to what "even an unsuspecting listener will feel." The Largo desolato, however, is provided with a text that underlays the music of the printed score so that a vocal line is unambiguously implied, a vocal line so perfectly integrated with its text that the movement must be conceived as it never has been hitherto—as a song, not a "song without words" but a song whose words, and with them the singer, have been suppressed. Redlich spoke of the "concealed vocality of Berg's Lyric Suite";31 his words now turn out to have a literal meaning he could never have suspected. Does the suppressed text imply the presence only of an ideal, a purely conceptual, vocal line, or does it imply the presence of a real, though likewise secret, vocal line? Must the "vocality" of the finale continue to be concealed? It is impossible to mistake Berg's intention in the underlaying of the instrumental parts. The setting of every syllable is indicated through the redrawing, in red ink, of the stem, flag, and beam of each note that is to be duplicated in the vocal part. If we assume that the voice part is to be understood as doubling at the unison the instrumental parts that are underlaid with text, its range is altogether unrealistic. But indications of some of the octave transpositions required to accommodate a realistic vocal range are given in the manuscript draft, 32 and in m. 3 1 not only are octave transpositions explicitly shown but, at the climax of the movement, a note 31 Redlich 57b, p. 142. 32 See Green 77a, 1ABSN, pp. 14-16. Writing before my discovery of the annotated score, Green found the omission of the vocal part in the published score puzzling. He asks: "Is it reasonable to suppose that a composer would write out a feasible vocal line to an otherwise unsingable passage, and even sketch out, at least in one place, more than one possible way of singing it if, in fact, he had no intention of having it sung at all?"

19

From Wozzeck to Lulu Example

20 •x 2 8 gewohnl.

_

20

subito -molto accel. f . h m l t

Er - reicht doch kei-ne Schreck-ge-burt

poco riten.

3 0 M e n o l a r g o (J = 4 6 )

immer viel Bogen das kal-te Grau-sen ff l.Gg.ergänzead

des Hir-nes

.

CM die-ses Eis

-

ge-stir

- nes

und die - ser

H"

ff

«HF «r r»fTr viel Bogen ipBr. ergänzend

From Wozzeck to Lulu is assigned to the voice where the instrumental ensemble is silent (Ex. 20 [Insertions in red are copied from the annotated miniature score.]). The way in which the vocal part is incorporated into the instrumental ensemble of the finale is entirely consistent with Berg's practice in the vocal works that follow the Lyric Suite. In both Lulu and Der Wein we find extensive passages in which various instruments of the orchestra take turns doubling the vocal line at the unison or at one or another octave transposition. In the concluding 150 bars of Act Two of Lulu, for example, the vocal line is no more independent of its instrumental environment than is the vocal line that Berg has indicated in the finale of the Lyric Suite.33 But the practicality of the inferred vocal line (Ex. 21) is not enough to establish it as a real rather than a programmatic or imagined component of the Largo desolato. Does it significantly enhance our understanding and interpretation of the movement, so as to seem, once known, necessary? It does, and so decisively as to reduce the version that has been known until now to the status of an "arrangement," with no more title to acceptance as an ultimately authentic representation than has the familiar orchestral version of the Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde. Undoubtedly, the finale will continue to be performed in the composer's "arrangement," but an intelligent interpretation presupposes a knowledge of the text and its vocal setting. The movement is often performed at tempi that are considerably slower than those called for by the composer's metronome markings, so that the pulse seems to be given by the quarter-note, rather than the half-note as is implied throughout by the time signatures. In the manuscript draft the metronome marking at the beginning of the movement was originally given in terms of half-note units, according to Douglass Green: "At the opening of the Largo desolato, Berg originally wrote J=46. Apparently finding this too fast, he changed it to J=69, the next slower speed possible when using units of 23." 34 Proper projection of the text and vocal line requires observance of the metronome markings and of the half-note as the unit of measure. Articulation and phrasing, wherever notes are underlaid by text, must be conceived in terms of text and vocal line, even in a purely instrumental performance. Even where no text underlays an instrumental part, it must sometimes be conceived in terms of text and vocal line, as in the first violin part at mm. (J6-8, which anticipates the entrance of the voice part at mm. ^12-15. 35 And if the composer's secret annotations in the preceding movements contribute nothing to what "even an unsuspecting listener will feel," the Baudelaire/George verses contribute a great deal to what the informed listener will feel and to his intellectual comprehension of the Largo desolato. Consider, for example, the words that underlay the non vibrato passage in the first violin part at mm. 1 7 18 (the direction non vibrato is, of course, intended for the singer as well as for the 33 The only distinction, in this respect, between this section of Lulu and the finale of the Lyric Suite is the occasional marking eventuell (optional) in the opera, for an instrumental part that doubles the voice. 34 Green 77a, IABSN, p. 18. 35 Ibid., p. 14: "In his commentary for the Kolisch Quartet [in Reich 59, pp. 45ff.], Berg notes that the Largo of the Lyric Suite is liedformig, but then crosses this word out and writes durchwegs Cantabile. He goes on to say that bars 1-6 are an introduction, that bars 7-8 hint at the main melody, bars 9-12 are the introduction again, and that the main melody begins at bar 13 in the viola. And it is indeed at the pick-up to bar 13 that the text begins."

21

From Wozzeck to Lulu

22

Example 2 1 (Notes in brackets or parentheses are octave transpositions of notes assigned to the instrument doubling the voice part in the score. Notes in brackets show registral changes indicated by B e r g , notes in parentheses show registral changes suggested by the a u t h o r . )

#

(Viola)

Will'J. Zu

m

Du

ein - zig T e u - r e ,

r

m

(1. Violin)

17

Dort

ist

die

ge - f a l - l e n . (2. Violin)

18

»P

Ge - gend tot,

f

T

» p r

Die Luft wie

Blei

und

dem F i n - s t e r n Fluch und Schre-ckenwal - len. (Violai

n . Violini

("Violai

Sechs Mon-de

steht die Son - ne

oh - ne Warm,

In

( 1 . Violin) 25

kel auf 26

dringt mein

1

aus t i e f - s t e r Schlucht da - rin mein Herz

16

99

J)

Dir,

15

Schrei,

in

W

13

der Er - de.

So -

(Cello)

Nicht

ein - mal

Bach

Er

-

Po - l a r - l a n d

Feld noch 1

reicht doch kei - ne

ist

so

-

de.

arm._

( 2 . Violin)

27

noch

( 1 . Violin) 29

28

das

(Viola)

und Baum

la - gert Dun

(Viola)

gar nicht

( 1 . Violin)

sech-sen

-

i

Her

l

m l

Schreck-ge-burt

des

(2. Violin)

Hir - nes

( 1 . Violin)

das kal - te

Grau -

sen.

die - ses

Eis

-

ge - stir - nes

und die - ser

From Wozzeck to Lulu 23

31.

(Cello)

r „n,j.

Nacht!

ein

(1-Violin) (Cello)

Cha -

"

aJi

os

rie

(2. Violin) (Viola) ^

Ich

34

nei - de

-P

des

ge-mein-sten

IF

Tie - res

35

Los,

das

36

^

Schla - fes 39

.violin)

sen - gross!.

33

tJ

w (2

= =

^

Schwin

* tau - chen kann

J in

J.

stum -

»pfen

38

37

£

del...

40 I

1

So lang-sam rollt sich ab der Zei - ten Spin-del

To you, you sole dear one, my cry rises Out of the deepest abyss in which my heart has fallen. There the landscape is dead, the air like lead And in the dark, curse and terror well up. Six moons without warmth stands the sun. During [the other] six darkness lies over the earth. Even the polar land is not so barren— Not even brook and tree, nor field nor flock. But no terror born of brain approaches The cold horror of this icy star And of this night, a gigantic Chaos! I envy the lot of the most common animal Which can plunge into the dizziness of a senseless s l e e p . . . So slowly does the spindle of time unwind! (.translation International

by Douglass M. Green; reprinted from Alban Berg Society Newsletter)

the

Tacet al fine

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu violinist), or those that underlay the Hauptstimme in m. 40, at the commencement of the perpetuum mobile that concludes the movement. The fact that the composer chose to suppress the text of the finale has been offered in evidence for the view that the vocal part is to be understood in a programmatic sense, like the secret annotations in the preceding movements, and that it should therefore not be performed. It is a plausible argument, but one that cannot stand against the overriding musical evidence for the authenticity of the vocal version, unprecedented as it may be that a composer should suppress a work in its original and valid form and give to the world an "arrangement" in its stead. For something comparably strange, one must turn to fiction—E. T. A. Hoffmann's Cardillac, perhaps, the goldsmith who could not bear to live apart from the masterpieces his hand and brain had formed and would even kill to recover them. The fact of its suppression remains, and presents us with questions concerning the composer's psychological and personal motivations, questions about his life and character that must be the concern not only of his biographers but of anyone involved in a serious study of his second opera, Lulu, where the composer himself is represented in the role of Aiwa. Though I know of no annotated copy of the twelve-tone version of "Schliesse mir die Augen beide," it too must have been secretly dedicated to Hanna. The two settings of the Storm poem were published together in Die Musik of February 1930, with an official dedication to Emil Hertzka, founder of Universal Edition, in recognition of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the firm and as an illustration of musical evolution in those twenty-five years, "from the C major triad" of the first song to the "Mutterakkord," the symmetrical all-interval series of the second. Berg refers to this anniversary gift in his letter of October 12, 1925, to Webern: "I too sent a (love-)song whose words have no connection with the (Hertzka) anniversary, or, rather, two songs on the same poem, a very old one and a brand-new one." 36 The principal set-form of the first movement of the Lyric Suite and of the new "love song" is the same—a prime set bounded by the pitches F and H (b). The vocal part is entirely limited to this set form. At m. 1 1 , in the piano part, an inverted set bounded by a\> and d is introduced, but this is cyclically permuted to begin on F and end on H. The close of the first half of the song is marked by a twelve-tone chord derived from the prime set, the close of the second half by a twelve-tone chord derived from the inversion. The boundary pitches of both chords are the same: F and H. Each section contains 10 bars, the number assigned to Hanna in the Lyric Suite. The second Storm song, as his "first attempt at strict twelve-tone serial composition," marked a new beginning for Berg in the development of his musical language. In 1907 he had offered the same verses to Helene, and fifty-eight years later she chose them for the opening lines of the Letters to His Wife: Schliesse mir die Augen beide Mit den lieben Händen zu; 36 Redlich 57a, p. 178.

From Wozzeck to Lulu Geht doch alles w a s ich leide, Unter Deiner Hand zur Ruh. Und wie leise sich der Schmerz Well' um Welle schlafen leget, Wie der letzte Schlag sich reget, Füllest Du mein ganzes Herz. 3 7

Characteristically, the composer who was to assign a role to himself in Lulu, with its symmetries and doublings and musico-dramatic recapitulations, chose to mark a new beginning in his emotional life by writing a new love song to the same text, on an entirely new level of technical complexity and maturity.38 Hanna Fuchs-Robettin's daughter, Dorothea, has in her possession fourteen letters from Alban Berg to her mother, covering the span of years that remained to him between the composition of the Lyric Suite and his death on December 24, 1935. They speak in unchanging terms of a passionate but unfulfilled love. Hanna's brother, Franz Werfel, and her sister-in-law, Alma, served as Berg's emissaries to Hanna, delivering his letters in person on their occasional visits to Prague. The première of Wozzeck in Berlin, a few weeks after his second stay with the Fuchs-Robettin family, had made Berg a famous man, and appearances that had been maintained within the circle of his friends, acquaintances, and colleagues had now to be maintained before the world. In a most poignant letter to Hanna, dated October 1931, the composer himself passes judgment on the picture of his domestic and personal life presented to the world by his authorized biographer and perpetuated by subsequent writers39 until my discovery of the annotated score of the Lyric Suite forty-two years after his death: Not a day passes, not half a day, not a night, when I do not think of you, not a week when I am not suddenly flooded by yearning, which submerges all my thoughts and feelings and wishes in an ardor that is not weaker by a breath than that of May 1 9 2 5 — only still shadowed by a grief which since that time rules me more and more, and which, for a long time now, has made me into a double or, better said, a play-acting person. For you must know: everything that you may hear of me, and perhaps even read about me, pertains, insofar as it is not completely false—as, for example, this, 37 Close my two eyes With your dear hands; All my suffering finds Peace beneath your hand. And as wave upon wave my pain Softly ebbs to rest, As the last beat throbs You fill my whole heart. 38 The above paragraph and portions of the following discussion are taken from Perle 77d, MT. 39 Cf. Reich 65, pp. 34f.: "On 3rd May [1911] Berg married Helene Nahowski. Even the man happy enough to have enjoyed the more intimate personal acquaintance of the couple can only have a vague idea what this woman came to mean to him. No one could completely grasp what she meant to the artist Alban Berg no less than to the man. Beyond her delightful relationship to the man, Helene not only accompanied her husband on most of his journeys, but—with her finely cultivated heart and spirit—became the critical advisor of the composer in his work. Her presence gave the artist the peace and comfort of a relaxed home life, and the quiet necessary for undisturbed creative work. After Berg's death his widow was the most faithful guardian of his works"; Carner 75, p. 17: "The Bergs were a most devoted couple. Indeed, their union seems to have been that rare thing—an ideal marriage."

From Wozzeck to Lulu

26

which I read today by chance in a Zurich programme: " A completely happy domesticity, with which his wife has surrounded him, allows him to create without disturbance"—pertains to what is only peripheral. But it pertains only to a person who constitutes only a completely exterior layer of myself, to a part of me which in the course of recent years has separated itself (ah, how painfully separated) from my real existence and has formed a detached being, the one I seem to my surroundings and to the world. In the frame of this life everything takes place that a normal life brings with it: vexation and joy, ill-humor and gaiety, interest and indifference, business and pleasure, art and nature—But believe me, Hanna (and now I can finally address you properly: one and only eternal love), all this pertains only to this exterior person, the one I have been forced to present myself as to my fellow human beings, one whom you (thank God) have never known, and who (only in order to characterize him in some way) might for a time be fulfilled with the joys of motoring, but could never be able to compose Lulu. That I am, however, doing this may be proof to you that the other person (and now I can speak again in the first person), that I still exist! When I work and take hold of your pen, at that moment I am here, and am also with you, as I am with myself when I am with you in thought. . . .

Berg's first stay with the Fuchs-Robettin family was in connection with the performance in Prague of the Three Excerpts from Wozzeck on May 20, 1925; his second was a stopover on his journey to Berlin, in November of the same year, for the rehearsals of the first Wozzeck production. In Volume I, I have shown how the notes H (b) and F serve as a compound tone-center "in the context of both the largest and smallest dimensions of the work." 40 It is unlikely that Berg would have failed to notice what to him would have seemed a prophetic coincidence, the identity of these notes with Hanna's initials. In Lulu these two notes have no such allpervasive function, but they play a special role in the overall design and in the harmonic progression with which the opera concludes. The identity of their letter-names with Hanna's initials now had a special meaning for the composer, as he completed the manuscript with the pen she had given him. 41 The three chords with which the opera concludes are shown in Example 199. Countess Geschwitz utters her last words, "Ich bin dir nah! Bleibe dir nah, in Ewigkeit!" ("I am near you, will be near you, in eternity!"), and dies, as the final harmonic progression reaches its destination in a chord whose lowest note is F and whose highest is H. Public pretensions to an idyllic domestic life are hardly uncommon, but the extent of Berg's collaboration in the fabrication and perpetuation of the myth of a perfect marriage was extraordinary. An authentic biography of the man will have to explain this. Obviously, he remained strongly attached to his wife, though the nature of that attachment had changed. He could hardly have contemplated a physical separation without considering the effect this would have had upon Helene. Ought we not to inquire into her mind and character, as well as his, in trying 40 Page 135. 41 A list of mementos in Mrs. Berg's last will and testament (Szmolyan 77a, OMz, pp. 176f.) includes "Berg's golden fountain pen (a gift from Franz Werfel, with which he wrote his opera Lulu and the Violin Concerto)." This misrepresentation, perhaps, is not a deliberate one, for Mrs. Berg may not have known that Werfel was acting only as his sister's agent in presenting Berg with this gift. However, see E. A. Berg 80, SM, p. 153.

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

to understand his behavior? For forty-one years after his death she persisted in the tragic role of a recently bereaved widow. It is surprising that no one should have seen—in Freud's own Vienna—anything suspect in her obsessive clinging to this role, with its special privileges. May not the endearments that continued to pervade the Letters to His Wife to the end of his life have been expressions of solicitude rather than of love? May they not also have been expressions of fear of where her jealousy could lead? Ironically, it was the extraordinary fabrications motivated by her jealousy which initiated the chain of events that led to the discovery of the annotated score and the one thing that she wished above all to prevent: revelation of the relation between Berg and Hanna and the falsity of the accepted view of the Bergs' marriage. For much of the factual data in his biography of Berg, Redlich was necessarily dependent upon information provided by the composer's widow. Replying to Redlich's query, Universal Edition informed him, in a letter dated November 24, 1953, that according to Helene Berg the autograph of the Lyric Suite was in the possession of the "heirs of Alexander v. Zemlinsky." That Berg had given the manuscript to Zemlinsky seemed plausible enough, since it was dedicated to him and the composer was indebted to him for one of its most memorable themes, the quotation from the Lyric Symphony, which in all probability had also suggested to Berg the title for his quartet. Zemlinsky had emigrated to the United States in 1939 and died there in 1942. Presumably the autograph would have passed to his heirs, as Mrs. Berg had asserted in reply to Redlich's query. In fact, however, as Mrs. Berg was well aware, her husband had given the manuscript not to its "official" dedicatee but to its "real" dedicatee, Hanna Fuchs-Robettin. After Berg's death Alma Mahler Werfel prevailed upon her sister-in-law to cede the manuscript to Helene Berg. We do not know why Mrs. Berg did not admit that the autograph was in her own possession, but it is clear that her invention of a fictional account of its history was intended to prevent discovery of its one-time ownership by Hanna Fuchs-Robettin. Of the existence of another document, the annotated score, in the possession of Mrs. Fuchs-Robettin, a document incriminating irrespective of its ownership, Mrs. Berg knew nothing. It was not until the autumn of 1961 that Redlich learned that the account given in his book was false. Mrs. Berg's first response, when she was informed that Mrs. Zemlinsky did not have the manuscript, was to pretend that, to her great distress, it must be missing. Subsequently, she gave it to the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek; since Redlich's catalog, because of her own misrepresentations, had ascribed its ownership to the "heirs of Alexander v. Zemlinsky," Mrs. Berg now had to explain how it had come into her possession. In reply to my inquiry, the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek informed me that "it has been a well-known fact for many years that Mrs. Zemlinsky returned the Lyric Suite to Mrs. Berg, who subsequently gave it to the library." 42 But neither Zemlinsky nor his widow was ever in possession of the 42 The quotation is from a letter to me dated January 12, 1977. This account of how Mrs. Berg acquired the manuscript has of course since been corrected.

From Wozzeck to Lulu

28

manuscript. It w a s only through Mrs. Zemlinsky, w h o s e involvement in the history of the manuscript w a s fabricated b y Mrs. Berg, that I learned, shortly after Mrs. Berg's death, of the relation between Hanna Fuchs-Robettin and Berg and of the possible existence of a copy of the score containing the composer's o w n programmatic annotations. With indefatigable energy, to the end of her life the composer's w i d o w perpetuated the legend of "a completely h a p p y domesticity, with which his w i f e has surrounded him." More than anyone else, it w a s she w h o w a s responsible for the superficial and featureless portraits w e have been given of a m a n — t o quote again from Berg's letter to H a n n a — " w h o might for a time be fulfilled with the joys of motoring, but could never be able to compose Lulu."

But she w a s also a w o m a n of

extraordinary sensitivity and intelligence, a w o m a n with a profound understanding of her husband's temperament and needs as an artist, as w e n o w k n o w from her recently published letters to A l m a Mahler, in which w e are given a description of the composer at work, of his character and personality, of his personal life and his relation to his time and place that is far deeper and richer and more complex than anything w e have had from his biographers. 43 Writing to A l m a Mahler on February 28,1936, two months after Berg's death, Helene Berg perceptively analyzes her husband's relationship to Hanna FuchsRobettin and its implications for the composition of the Lyric

Suite:

W h e n I g o over Alban's h u n d r e d s of letters today, there is one thing that is s t r i k i n g — that w e w e r e so m u c h of the time and so frequently separated, something he is alw a y s complaining about in his letters. I'll give y o u , insofar as i f s possible (I don't have all the letters here), a superficial tabulation, so that y o u m a y have, to s o m e small extent, a n overview. [There follows a long list of places a n d periods of separation, b e g i n n i n g w i t h " P r a g u e 1912 (Alban, 12 d a y s ) " a n d concluding w i t h "1935, A l b a n , Waldhaus, 2 x 4 days."] Even w i t h the best will, the fable of " n e v e r b e i n g left a l o n e " can't be proven. [Cf. the assertion of Berg's authorized biographer, Willi Reich, that Helene " a c c o m p a n i e d her h u s b a n d o n most of his journeys."] 4 4 Even w h e n w e w e r e both in Vienna he w e n t out alone m u c h , m u c h more often than w i t h m e . To concerts, the theater, meetings, parties, receptions, dinners (also, alone, to y o u a n d the Zolnays). I, w h o hate the winter and the cold so m u c h , preferred to g o to b e d w i t h a book in the evening, or to listen to the concert o n the radio. In recent years I usually spent the mornings until n o o n w i t h Frank [Helene's y o u n g e r brother, a schizophrenic], in earlier years w i t h y o u or in the city, w h i l e A l b a n w a s alone at h o m e w i t h his w o r k . There remains but o n e explanation: A l b a n invented an excuse to k e e p his poetic passion within those boundaries w h i c h he himself desired. [This s u d d e n change of subject to Berg's involvement with Hanna Fuchs-Robettin is m a d e w i t h o u t transition a n d w i t h o u t mention of Hanna's n a m e . W h a t Helene evidently m e a n s to say here is that her h u s b a n d w a s a w a y so m u c h of the time that his love for H a n n a n e e d not have been that tragic, unfulfilled passion symbolized b y the quotation from Tristan und Isolde in the Largo desolato of the Lyric Suite.] He himself constructed obstacles a n d thereby created the romanticism w h i c h h e required. Perhaps it w a s also uncon43 These letters are published in Perle 80b, OMz, and, in a paraphrased translation, in Perle 78b, IABSN. 44 Reich 65, p. 34.

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

scious caution: he didn't want too close an association with this woman, as he imagined her in the unheard-of florescence of his artist's fantasy, for fear of disappointment (for Alban w a s spoiled, mentally and physically). He avoided her. . . . It all comes to a flight from reality. In this way and only in this w a y could the Lyric Suite have come to be. I must therefore acknowledge the sense of all that has h a p p e n e d — a n d remain silent. A n d therefore I can also say that there is no trace of bitterness in me, only emotion and melancholy. A n d nothing, nothing can dim my love for him. Some day I will stand with her before God.

With Berg's next work, Der Wein, w e find ourselves in the sound-world of Lulu, the composition of which he had already begun w h e n he received a commission for the concert aria from the Viennese soprano Ruzena Herlinger in the Spring of 1929.45 Redlich points to the significance of the aria as a study for the opera as shown in the composer's choice of text (Baudelaire "wrote these poems in a spirit of revolt, aimed at the complacent philistinism of his epoch, and anticipating Wedekind's later indictment of the bourgeoisie of the 'fin de siècle' "), in its formal design, and in its "color and scoring." 46 A s in Lulu, and possibly influenced by the example of the one-act opera, Von Heute aufMorgen, that Schoenberg had just completed, Berg employs piano and saxophone as integral components of the orchestra and for episodes in the standardized timbre of commercial popular music. In the bel canto character of its vocal line and in the relation between voice and orchestra, Der Wein strikingly exemplifies Berg's concept of the proper role of the voice in opera as set forth in a brief essay published in 1929, the same year in which he composed the aria. Emphasizing the primacy of the singer and the importance of bel canto, along with other styles of vocal expression, he assigns to opera the task, "above all, of serving the human voice and promoting its rights—rights which, indeed, it had almost lost in the musico-dramatic works of recent decades in which operatic music, as Schoenberg has said, has often represented nothing else than a 'symphony for large orchestra with vocal accompaniment.'" 4 7 Der Wein anticipates the Violin Concerto in its use of a set that suggests certain characteristic features of diatonic tonality. The set at P2 (Ex. 22) linearly unfolds à D minor diatonic hexachord, a Gl> major triad, and a V 7 -type chord. In the first entry of the voice (Ex. 23) the melodic cadence on the fifth note of the diatonic hexachord stresses the implication of D minor in this segment of P2. Such explicit tonal devices occur in an enormously extended post-Wagnerian chromatic context, a pervasive harmonic texture that is only ambiguously "derived" from the structure of the set, but in relation to which the set performs an important formal function as a consistent source of thematic details. Schoenberg's twelve-tone music also frequently reverts to stylistic features of traditional tonality, but on the whole this is obvious only in the rhythm and phraseology of this music, rather 45 By September 1, 1928, according to his letter of that date to Schoenberg, Berg had already composed more than 300 bars of the opera. 46 Redlich 57b, pp. 156f. 47 In Reich 37, pp. 156f.

F r o m Wozzeck to Lulu

30

than in its harmonic character. For both composers, the basis for this reversion is probably the same—an attempt to find in the twelve-tone system what Schoenberg saw as "the foundations for a new procedure in musical construction which seemed fitted to replace those structural differentiations provided formerly by tonal harmonies." 48 It is hardly surprising that the first steps in the direction of an autonomous twelve-tone language should have depended to a large extent on parallels and analogies with the comprehensive tonal language of the past. Example 22

Des Wei-nes Geist

be - gann im Fass zu

sin

-

gen

Ostensibly Der Wein is based on only one set, but such a formulation in itself has as little meaning for Der Wein as w e will find it to have for Lulu, since, as in Lulu, the set is freely and continuously transformed through cyclical permutations and revisions in the serial order. 49 In m. 8, for example, melodic statements of P2 are accompanied by triadic segments of a set derived by partitioning I 7 into its alternate elements (Ex. 24). Another set (mm. 15-16) is derived by partitioning a cyclical permutation of the basic set into segments of four, three, and five notes, with each segment framed by the tritone formed by its boundary elements (Ex. 25). (The latter derivation was evidently viewed by Berg himself as one that has special importance in the work as a whole, since it is included in the musical ex48 Schoenberg 75, p. 218.

49 Cf. Jarman 79, pp. 133£f.

Example 24

Example 25

F r o m Wozzeck t o Lulu

amples he prepared to accompany Willi Reich's program notes for the première.) 50 In the first seven bars a seven-note ostinato figure (Ex. 26) is derived from combined three-note segments of different set forms (Ex. 27). P2 and I 5 commence with the required segment; the other set forms are cyclically permuted to permit the required segment to initiate the set statement, as in the third movement of the Lyric Suite. The material derived b y means of these and other more cryptic manipulations of the set often appears to be used independently of these derivations. In this respect, too, Der Wein is inconsistent with the definitive assumptions of Schoenberg's twelve-tone system. Example 26

—I J

L

I

r v

6»

*

.

•

*

t»

:

Example 27

In its overall formal plan Der Wein is a combination of sonata-allegro and ternary design. The first song serves as sonata exposition, the last as recapitulation and coda. The contrasting middle section is a scherzo in t w o parts: the first part provides a setting for the first two strophes of the second p o e m and suggests a miniature and freely conceived A B A form; the second part of the Scherzo falls into t w o subsections, the first a setting of the concluding strophes of the p o e m and the second a retrograde restatement of the first b y the orchestra alone. This 50 Reich 65, p. 154.

From Wozzeck to Lulu 32

orchestral interlude serves as retransition to the recapitulatory closing song. This kind of formal planning, in which objective design components of a traditional type are combined in novel and intricately interdependent ways, is representative of what we shall find on a larger scale in Lulu. With the completion of Der Wein in August 1929, Berg was ready to return to the work that was to occupy him—except for the few months that he gave to the Violin Concerto—for the remainder of his life. The Klangideal and musical language of Lulu began to take shape in the compositions that immediately followed Wozzeck, but the future composer of Lulu is foreshadowed long before this, in the literary interests, social concepts, and personal experiences of his adolescence and youth.

2

T H E LULU P L A Y S A N D T H E L I B R E T T O

In November 1907 Berg wrote to his young American friend, Frida Semler, w h o had spent the summers of 1903 and 1904 at the Berg family's country home while her father attended to his business affairs: Wedekind—the really new direction—the emphasis on the sensual in modern w o r k s ! ! . . . At last we have come to the realization that sensuality is not a weakness, does not mean a surrender to one's own will. Rather it is an immense strength that lies in us—the pivot of all being and thinking. (Yes; all thinking!). . . Only through the understanding of sensuality, only through a fundamental insight into the "depths of mankind" (shouldn't it rather be called the "heights of mankind"?) can one arrive at a real idea of the human psyche. . . . Men like Strindberg and Wedekind are great psychologists—knowers of men in the truest sense of the word. Whether they are also great poets, that is a matter that posterity will have to decide. I believe it.1 To appreciate what it meant for a young man of twenty-two to write such a letter in the Vienna of 1907, one should read the description that Berg's friend Stefan Zweig gives in his memoirs, The World of Yesterday, of the "sticky, perfumed, sultry, unhealthy atmosphere" in which he and Berg grew up, the "dishonest . . . morality of secrecy and hiding [that] hung over us like a nightmare." The tragic consequences of this morality in the lives of adolescent children is the subject of Wedekind's first major play, The Awakening of Spring. Published in 1891 at the author's expense, it took fifteen years to reach the stage, by which time Wedekind had radically revised his view of the conflict between eros and society. In The Awakening of Spring, tragedy stems entirely from the sanctions and repressions 1 Reich 65, pp. 22f.

33

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto 34

imposed by a puritanical and hypocritical society. "Beneath the tragedy inflicted by the false and falsifying values of society we encounter faith in the truth, purity, and absolute joy of sensuous experience."2 Soon after the completion of The Awakening of Spring, Wedekind was at work on Lulu, a colossal drama that he finally decided to publish as two separate plays, Earth Spirit (1895) and Pandora's Box (1902). Here the tragic element in the relation between eros and society is inherent in the nature of eros. Sexual desire and everyone's dream of its ideal fulfillment are symbolized in a single personality who approaches mythic dimensions—a personality who represents, to quote Kierkegaard's description of her male counterpart, Don Giovanni, "the power of nature, the daemonic, which never wearies of seducing, which never stops—as little as the wind stops blowing, the sea rolling, and the cataract tires of falling from a height." The confrontation between this power and society results in farce as well as tragedy—often both at the same time. Though the "false" values of a particular society are exposed in this confrontation—the fin de siècle European bourgeois order of which the author is a part (ironically characterized as such in the drama itself)—the implied conflict is the Freudian one, the inevitable and irresolvable conflict between the instincts and civilization.3 Death and the Devil (1905) goes beyond the Lulu plays in its profoundly pessimistic representation of eros. Identified with the will to live in the final scene of The Awakening of Spring, it is now seen as an insatiable force that is to be appeased only by death. The Marquis Casti-Piani, who appeared in Pandora's Box as a police spy, blackmailer, and procurer, is the operator of a bordello. When he discovers, in "the blinding flash of light that causes the sleep-walker on the roof to break his neck," that sensual pleasure is not "that ray of divine light that penetrates the dreadful midnight of our martyr's existence," but only "satanic human slaughter, like all the rest of earth,"4 he puts a bullet through his heart. In Death and the Devil the conflict is not between eros and society but between eros and life. Each role personifies a different obsession, another single self-destructive attitude toward the sex drive. There is no social dimension whatever, and thus no semblance of realistic characterization of the individual roles. In Lulu, on the other hand, as in Don Giovanni, sexual desire, oblivious to differences of wealth and social position, exposes the artificiality of class distinctions and thus becomes a powerful means of social commentary and characterization. It is Lulu, the natural and therefore innocent woman, who is the connecting link between the world of the banker and that of the pimp, between the world of the aristocrat and that of the beggar, between the world of art and that of the most sordid violence and brutality. Wedekind himself lived an adventurous life during which he experienced the various levels of social existence in which the successive events of Lulu's 2 Sokel 66, GQ, p. 201. 3 It is, however, misleading to say that "Wedekind was the first German writer, indeed, almost the first western writer, to use Freud's thesis that 'civilization is based on the permanent subjugation of the human instincts' " (Gittleman 69, p. 1). Given the dates of the dramas in which Wedekind first seems to formulate this thesis, it is clear that he could hardly have been influenced by Freud's contributions. 4 Wedekind 67, p. 187.

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

drama unfold. Born in Hanover in 1864, he was named Benjamin Franklin Wedekind by his German liberal father, who had settled in San Francisco as a doctor after the Revolution of 1848, married a German-born opera singer there, and returned with her to Germany just before the birth of their son. In 1884 Frank was sent to Munich to prepare for the legal career that his father had chosen for him, but he was already aspiring to be a writer. Munich, in those years, was the headquarters of the literary avant-garde, disciples of Emile Zola and significant precursors of the Naturalist movement in German literature. Wedekind soon found his way into this circle, but even at this early date he distinguished his literary aims from those of the "Zola-ists." Though he was to incorporate surface characteristics of the new method into his technique as a writer, he rejected the Naturalists' "scientific objectivity" and their narrow view of society. "His conception of society was one which included all of civilization; and his vision of the writer called for the totally involved moralist preaching a new order which must in no way be limited by a cool detachment." 5 He was sufficiently detached, however, to see his own position in an ironical aspect, and this too became a shaping force in the formation of his personal idiom. Wedekind's failure to pursue his legal studies led to a quarrel with his father, and in 1886 he was left to his own resources. He found employment in Zurich as publicity agent for Maggi, the bouillon-cube manufacturer, but resigned after six months and turned to freelance journalism. The performances of a touring circus company occasioned two newspaper articles in which he gives expression for the first time to his passionate interest in a subject that was to serve him repeatedly as metaphor and theme in his work as a dramatist. In Zurich he again found himself among a group of German writers, early exponents of Naturalism like those he had known in Munich. One of them was the young Gerhart Hauptmann, in whom Wedekind saw the antithesis of himself as man and artist, although they shared an interest in Büchner and although the obscure and unperformed author of Danton''s Death and Woyzeck influenced the work of both. In 1889, after the death of his father brought him an inheritance that gave him a measure of financial independence for a few years, Wedekind moved to Berlin and then again to Munich. In both cities he found Naturalism to be the dominant tendency among the newer playwrights, with Hauptmann recognized as their leading representative after the appearance of his "social drama," Before Sunrise. In spite of his personal friendship with some of the spokesmen for the movement, Wedekind was now more than ever estranged from them intellectually. His position is summed up by Gittleman: "Above all he could not abide the 'Tendenz' of Naturalistic literature, the attacks which were made in the name of social justice against the middle-class morality which, in Wedekind's eyes, did no more than impose still another morality no less stultifying and smothering than that which it wanted to replace. Although he personally was committed to causes which underlined the insipidness of bourgeois morality, Wedekind rejected the use of art in their behalf. He argued with his friends in favor of an inner reality which did not necessarily reflect 5 Gittleman 69, p. 12.

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

36

the image of life as it existed. He found the language of Naturalism above all boring, non-poetic, and drab." 6 Upon the completion of The Awakening of Spring in 1891 he moved to Paris, where the guiding principle of his life for the next few years seems to have been one that he put into the mouth of one of his own characters, Aiwa, the poet and playwright who is represented as the author of Earth Spirit in its sequel, Pandora's Box: "We know nothing about any problems save those that arise among artists and scholars. Our horizon doesn't extend beyond the interests of our profession. To bring about a rebirth of a genuine vigorous art we should go as much as possible among men who have never read a book in their lives, whose actions are dictated by the simplest animal instincts." It is to a circus performer that Aiwa offers these aesthetic reflections, a man who is indifferent to all views about literary "problems," including Alwa's anti-literary views, and the irony of this is not lost upon Aiwa: "At the same time," he continues, "one must admit that, oddly enough, the play [Earth Spirit] reached production only through enlightened literary society." 7 It is a further irony that Alwa's estrangement from "enlightened literary society" is, in spite of his radical views, passive—merely the inadvertent consequence of his passion for Lulu. Wedekind, on the contrary, established intimate friendships hobnobbing with clowns, acrobats, weight-lifters, musicians, adventurers. For a time he was even the personal secretary of a confidence man, the noted art forger Willi Grétor, though according to Wedekind's biographer, Artur Kutscher, he "does not seem to have had any connection with Grétor's dealings in art." 8 Wedekind dedicated Earth Spirit to Grétor and modeled the protagonist of one of his major plays, The Marquis of Keith, after him. Kutscher bases his description of the Paris years on Wedekind's diaries: [They] display a whole gallery of coquettes, with whom he spends his days and nights. . . . He admires the beauty, dress, grooming, movement, and bearing of these creatures. . . . They chat about parents, siblings, youth, home, moonlight, solitude, inseparable love without marriage, children, savings, favorite dishes, eternity, . . . about Napoleon, about Zola, about the very definite and peculiar ethics of their calling. He is charmed by their talent for mimicry, with the little parts they perform for him—a gamin, a scene between a young Parisian and a high-class coquette, the greeting, supper at Silvain's, the scene before retiring at night and the farewell the next morning, a comedy in the convent school during the silent hour, and much more. What matter if in their ignorance they think one has to take a boat to go to Germany! . . . [There are] Rachel, with her sweet and dreamlike grace, who mends his last shirt; the lyric artist, Léontine, whom he unkindly sends away because she isn't clean; the trapezist, Kadudja, from Alexandria, . . . a passionate, completely disciplined, and enchantingly expressive belly-dancer; the beauty with the GabrielMax head, who intends to practice her profession for two more years and then to go into a convent; the incurable consumptive, Henriette, who only wants to go to the masked ball once more before her death, . . . Marie Louise, the drug addict; Alice, on whom he bases his poem, "I was a child of fifteen years"; Madame Fernande, Adèle, Germaine, Madeleine, Raimonde, Lucie. 9

6 Ibid., pp. 15f. 9 Ibid., pp. 82ff.

7 Wedekind 52, p. 225.

8 Kutscher 64, p. 93.

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

The debauchery of the Paris years damaged Wedekind's health and exhausted his means, but it also gave him the life-experience and conceptual basis for his masterpiece, the Lulu tragedy. The original version of the complete drama and the first of the t w o plays into which the whole w a s finally recast were written during these very years, 1892-1895. It w a s not until 1898, three years after the publication of Earth Spirit, that Wedekind w a s able to convince a producer of its stageworthiness. In the meantime he w a s invited to join his publisher, Albert Langen, in Munich, in f o u n d i n g the instantly successful satirical magazine, Simplizissimus. The steady income and popular attention that his witty satirical pieces and cartoon captions earned for him only increased his bitterness over the continued neglect of the four plays and the volume of short stories that he had published by this time. A major theme of The Tenor, Such Is Life (King Nicolo), and other Wedekind plays is that of the artist w h o s e existence depends on a society that he holds in contempt and that honors and rewards him only because he plays the fool or is misunderstood as such. With the production of Earth Spirit, the first of Wedekind's plays to reach the stage, the author's predilection for incorporating himself p s e u d o n y m o u s l y in his plays took the most explicit form possible. N o actor could be f o u n d for the role of Dr. Schôn, so Wedekind played the part himself, thus making his debut as an actor and a dramatist at the same time. His highly mannered style as an actor, though it outraged every convention, proved effective and appropriate to the antiNaturalist elements of the drama. The play had an unexpectedly successful run in Leipzig and other German cities, and Wedekind had every reason to expect that some serious attention w o u l d n o w be given to his other w o r k s as well. But at this point his association with Simplizissimus suddenly brought both notoriety and the ruin of his immediate hopes. A warrant w a s issued for his arrest on a charge of lèse-majesté, and he fled to Switzerland rather than stand trial. He returned a year later to face a trial in which, in addition to the specific crime with w h i c h he w a s charged, the "immoral" character of his plays w a s an issue. In an autobiographical sketch of 1901 he brings his career up to date as follows: Then came the Simplizissimus trial, the immediate settlement of which I had avoided only so that I might have a half-year of time and peace to complete a stage work. I presented myself to the judge as soon as I had written the last word of The Marquis of Keith. In Kônigstein Prison I wrote the novel Mine-Haha, which is currently being published in Die Insel. Since my release I have only made a few appearances as an actor (twice at the Stadttheater in Rotterdam and five times at the Schauspielhaus in Munich) and, to be sure, as a singer. At the moment I am appearing at Die elf Scharfrichter, singing my own settings of my poems and accompanying myself on the guitar.10 In his n e w career as a cabaret singer, "Wedekind created a n e w style of singing with his brittle, cutting voice, relying on the 'Zungen-R' effect to create this harshness, w h i c h matched the brutality of the lyrics. A n y o n e w h o has seen or heard the street-singer at the beginning of Brecht's Die Dreigroschenoper, written in 1929, 10 Wedekind 69, p. 334.

37

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto 38

as he nasally intones the vices of Macheath in the 'Moritat von Mackie Messer/ must sense the impact of Wedekind's style." 1 1 In December 1902, Max Reinhardt, at the beginning of the career that was to make him the most celebrated director of his time, produced Earth Spirit in Berlin, and in the following season Wedekind's plays had 149 performances in Germany. He had finally won recognition as a serious and significantly innovative dramatist, as the man who, in the words of one critic, had "strangled the Naturalistic brute, plausibility, and brought the element of play to the stage." 12 The Awakening of Spring finally reached the stage in 1906, though the censor's ban was not definitively lifted until 1912. The censor was effective in preventing performances of the second of the two Lulu plays in Germany to the end of the author's life, but on May 29, 1905, Karl Kraus staged Pandora's Box in Vienna. It proved to be a special day in the lives of both Frank Wedekind and Alban Berg. Wedekind, playing the part of Jack the Ripper in the final scene, met his future wife in the person of the young actress playing the part of his victim, Lulu. Tilly Wedekind recalls the occasion in her memoirs: "In the hall, filled to capacity, there sat, one among many, a young man of twenty who looked like an angel. Decades later the world became aware of the lasting impression that the play, the production, and the [introductory] talk by Karl Kraus had made on him. His name was Alban Berg, and one day he was to compose the opera, Lulu."13 Though the yellow press and the government continued to attack him until his death in 1918, Wedekind was now an established literary figure and "a symbol in the struggle for freedom of the intellect against the anachronistic domination of the authorities." 14 But his best work was already behind him. With Death and the Devil in 1905 he seems to have exhausted his major theme, and his subsequent treatments of this theme seem forced and merely sensational. The now established writer and respectable family man was no more successful when he returned to the subject of the artist as clown and social outcast that he had developed with such vigorous fantasy, wit, and irony in the earlier plays. Yet in the fifteen years between The Awakening of Spring and the final version of Pandora's Box Wedekind had invented a new type of drama that was the immediate forerunner of Expressionism, that anticipated the epic and didactic theater of Berthold Brecht, and that points to the Theater of the Absurd of our own day. In honor of the sixtieth birthday of Karl Kraus in 1934, Alban Berg sent him a congratulatory letter and an excerpt of six bars (mm. 3i8ff.) of Lulu, II/i, the setting of Alwa's words as he holds Lulu's hand, "Eine Seele, die sich im Jenseits den Schlaf aus den Augen reibt." 15 The musical excerpt was an implicit acknowledgment of Berg's indebtedness to Kraus, for it was with this quotation that Kraus had commenced his talk at the first performance of Pandora's Box twenty-nine years earlier: "A soul, rubbing the sleep from its eyes in the next world." A poet and lover, wavering between love and the artist's idealization of feminine beauty, holds Lulu's hand 1 1 Gittleman 69, p. 24. 1 2 Quoted in Kutscher 64, p. 198. 13 T. Wedekind 69, p. 43. 14 Günter Seehaus, quoted in Gittleman 69, p. 26. 15 Berg's letter and the musical quotation are given in Reich 37, p. 203.

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto

in his a n d speaks these w o r d s , w o r d s that are the key to this m a z e of w o m a n l i n e s s , this labyrinth in w h i c h m a n y a m a n has lost track of his reason. It is the last act of Earth Spirit. The mistress of love has gathered all types of m a n h o o d a r o u n d her, so that they m a y serve her as they receive w h a t she has to bestow. It is A i w a , the son of her h u s b a n d , that speaks. A n d then, w h e n he has fully intoxicated himself at this sweet fountain of corruption, w h e n his destiny will have fulfilled itself, in the last act of Pandora's Box, he will deliriously find these w o r d s to utter before Lulu's picture: "Standing before this portrait I recover m y self-respect. I can u n d e r s t a n d m y fate. It m a k e s everything that has h a p p e n e d to u s seem so natural, so self-evident, so clear. W h o e v e r can feel secure in his position as a m e m b e r of respectable society w h e n he stands before these full lips, these large, innocent, child's eyes, this rosy-white, exuberant body, let him cast the first stone." T h e s e w o r d s , s p o k e n before the portrait of the w o m a n who became the destroyer of all because she was destroyed by all, e n c o m p a s s the world of the poet, Frank Wedekind. 1 6

From Frida Semler's memoir of her summers at the Berghof, 17 we learn that Berg had read Earth Spirit as early as 1904, soon after the Reinhardt production had made the play famous. Berg's early letters to Helene, written in the four years preceding their marriage on May 3, 1911, reveal an aspect of life in the family home that gives us additional insights into the composer's profound and continuing interest in Wedekind's masterpiece. Writing to Helene's father in the summer of 1910, Berg replied to various objections that Nahowski had raised against him as a prospective son-in-law.18 (Nahowski had no intention of being moved by Berg's arguments. Refusing even to read the letter, he placed it, still sealed, in his daughter's room.) In answer to Nahowski's criticism that he has no proper vocation, Berg points out that there are "a hundred times more musicians than there are emery paper manufacturers; and you evidently don't think Herr Lebert [Helene's sister's fiancé] need be ashamed of his occupation, although it is both less common and less generally recognized than music." Moreover, Herr Lebert still had to get his factory built before he could expect to profit from his specialized knowledge, whereas "luckily for me, nobody needs to build me a factory: I have my own with all the newest equipment and the greatest productive capacity!—in my head." To the charge of immorality leveled against members of his family, he replies: "Like you, we have in our circle high civil servants, judges, officers, industrialists, business men; we have relatives in Germany who own factories and cars. But I have also a brother who married a poor girl and a sister whose abnormal condition and Lesbian inclination is her family's desperate sorrow. But alas, there is no sanatorium for her . . . no place where these tendencies could be cured, where she might be saved from the dangers they carry with them, and from people's malicious gossip. . . . Had I the time, I would make this long letter twice or three times as long, and deal in detail with homosexuality: those afflicted by it and those who, because they are not so afflicted, treat these sick people as criminals."19 Wedekind's characterization of Countess Geschwitz in Pandora's Box and his foreword to the play may well have had something to do with the courage and frank16 Kraus 58, pp. 9f. 17 Semler 68, IABSN. 18 Nahowski was actually Helene Berg's adoptive father. She is supposed to have been the illegitimate daughter of the Emperor Franz Josef. See E. A. Berg 80, SM. 19 Berg 71a, pp. 106ff.

39

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

40

ness of the young man's reply to his future father-in-law's censure. There were occasional real-life episodes in the family circle that suggest the fictional events of the play. Unable to keep an appointment with Helene, he explains that it is because "last night Smaragda tried to poison herself with gas. Apparently it didn't do her much harm physically but mentally she's in complete despair, poor soul." 20 When he writes, in 1910, that he finds "a prostitute's position no more nor less offensive than associating with people whom you and many others consider quite unobjectionable," and mentions, in the same letter, "a prostitute, my sister's present friend," 21 he is associating himself with the attitudes expressed by Karl Kraus, as well as Wedekind. As Erich Heller writes in his remarkable essay on the great Viennese satirist, Kraus "unmasked the sham morality of a society which punished as an offence the prostitution of women, but bestowed high honors on men who habitually prostituted their minds and talents to the interests of power and finance." 22 Because his work is "untranslatably Austrian in its idiom, untranslatably German in its diction," and because the explicit content of that work was entirely topical— "the coffee-house conversation of the journalists, the stock exchange rendezvous of the racketeers, the fragments of talk which struck his ear in the streets of Vienna, the judgements of the law courts, the leading articles of the newspapers and the chatter of their readers"—Kraus is still virtually unknown to English and American readers. Each issue of his journal, Die Fackel (The Torch), was eagerly awaited by Berg, and when his chief dramatic work, inspired by the events of 1914-1918, appeared, Berg wrote to his wife: "Nobody must talk to me now for the next two or three days: the fourth and fifth acts of The Last Days of Mankind have been published—a whole book, 450 pages. If it didn't cost i6vi Crowns, I would buy a second copy and send it to you to read on the train." 23 The influence of Kraus's style comes through repeatedly in Berg's letters and essays, as it does in Schoenberg's. 24 For a time Berg considered Hauptmann's Und Pippa tanzt for the libretto of his second opera. Certainly, it would have been simpler to convert Hauptmann's romantic fantasy—a "glassworks fairy tale," as he calls it—into a libretto, and, perhaps because of its more congenial content as well as its literary qualities, some members of the composer's immediate circle much preferred it to the Wedekind drama. Berg had been introduced to Hauptmann by Alma Mahler while visiting the Werfels at Rapallo, and had arrived at a tentative agreement with him, as he reports in a letter to Erich Kleiber in March 1928. 25 Presumably the project fell through because Hauptmann or his publisher insisted on terms that were not economically feasible. Berg's preoccupation with the character of Lulu is already indicated in a letter to Helene on June 17, where he describes John Erskine's novel The Private Life of Helen of Troy as "a delightful book: the only possible interpretation of Helen, as Lulu." 26 Only a few weeks before this he had written Schoenberg that his next work would probably be Pippa, and three weeks afterward he writes 20 Ibid., p. 50. 21 Ibid., p. 101. 22 Heller 59, pp. 235£f. 23 Berg 71a, p. 247. 24 See "Karl Kraus and Arnold Schoenberg" in Krenek 66. 25 Russell 57, p. 125. See also Scherliess 76, Melos. 26 Berg 71a, p. 363.

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto that he is already composing Lulu. After a pause of two years he is having some trouble getting started, and also contributing to his difficulties, apart from renewed asthmatic attacks, is the problem of basing a whole opera on "one row." He cannot have been greatly distressed over the collapse of his earlier project, for by September 1, two months before his meeting with Wedekind's widow in Berlin to discuss financial arrangements for the rights to the drama,27 he had already composed more than 300 bars of the new work. The composition was repeatedly interrupted for long periods during the following two years, and it was not until August 1931 that he completed the short score of the first act.28 The summer of 1929 was given over to the composition of Der Wein, and in the next season Berg was preoccupied with new productions of Wozzeck in Essen, Aachen, Vienna, Dusseldorf, Lübeck, and Königsberg. Resuming work on the opera after a ten-month pause, 29 he reports to Schoenberg on August 7,1930: Apart from the composition, the twelve-note style of which does not yet permit me to work quickly, it is the libretto that holds me up so much. Its formation progresses alongside the composition. As I have to cut out four-fifths of Wedekind's original, the selection of the remaining one-fifth is enough of a torture. And what further torture when I try to adapt that selection to the larger and smaller musical structures and to avoid destroying Wedekind's idiomatic characteristics in the process!30

This was a problem Berg had not had to face when he composed Wozzeck. There the concentration and conciseness of Büchner's language and the brevity of the play had permitted Berg (and Gurlitt, too) to set the text directly. The overall design, however—the way in which Wedekind's two plays, originally conceived as one by the author, were to be combined in the libretto—"has, of course, been quite clear to me for a long time," writes Berg. (The same task was undertaken at approximately the same time for G. W. Pabst's film version of the Lulu plays, which opened in Berlin in February 1929.31 And before this there had been a number of stage productions of various adaptations in which the two plays were telescoped into a single Lulu drama.32 Wedekind's original five-act play omits Act III of Earth Spirit and Act I of Pandora's Box.) Berg incorporates the main action of each of the seven acts of Wedekind's text, converting each of Wedekind's acts into a scene of the opera and dividing the whole into three acts, the second of which combines the last act of the first play and the opening act of the second. The following synopsis of Wedekind's text shows the material on which Berg based each scene of the libretto. (Bracketed passages represent sections deleted by the composer. The letters that appear as superscripts are provided for later reference.) 27 Ibid., pp. 366,368. 28 See Berg's letter to Webern of July 23,1931, in Reich 53, SM, and Reich 59, and Schoenberg's letter to Berg of August 8,1931 (Schoenberg 65). 29 Berg to Schoenberg, July 22,1930 (in Redlich 63). 30 Redlich 57b, p. 175. (Redlich 57a erroneously gives April 7 instead of August 7 as the date of the letter.) Schoenberg's reply to Berg is dated August 5, 1930 (Schoenberg 65), so it appears that one of them misdated his letter. 31 An English translation of the film script has been published (Pabst 71). 32 Seehaus 64, pp. 335f., 359£f.

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The Lulu Plays and the Libretto 42

Synopsis Earth Spirit,PROLOGUE

(Lulu,

PROLOGUE)

An animal tamer invites the audience into his tent to see his "soulless creatures, tamed by human genius." Others have only domesticated animals to show; "the true beast, the wild and beautiful beast—you'll only find that here"—the tiger, the bear, the monkey, reptiles. He calls to a stagehand to bring the snake out. The stagehand carries Lulu out of the tent and places her before the animal tamer. He introduces her to the audience: She was created for every abuse, To allure and to poison and seduce, To murder without leaving any trace. 3 3

Lulu is carried back into the tent. And now for the best part of the show— the animal tamer's own head between the jaws of a beast of prey. What beast? "Honored spectators, step right in!" Earth Spirit 1 (Lulu

1/1)

Scene: A painter's studio. [Dr. Schôn ("editor-in-chief") and Schwarz, the painter, are discussing the portrait of his fiancée that Dr. Schôn has commissioned. He is surprised to discover an unfinished portrait of Lulu in her ballet costume as Pierrot, commissioned, the painter tells him, by her jealous old husband, Dr. Goll. As Schôn is about to leave he encounters Dr. Goll and Lulu at the door. He remains, engaged in conversation with Dr. Goll as Lulu prepares to sit for her portrait and the painter begins his work. There is a knock.] aDr. Schôn's son, Aiwa, a writer, arrives to take his father to the dress rehearsal of his new ballet. Lulu is sitting for her portrait.13 [They prevail upon Dr. Goll to accompany them. Goll tells his wife and the painter that he will return in five minutes.] cSchwarz, left alone with Lulu, is unable to concentrate on his work. She coquettishly repulses his overtures. He chases her about the room, eventually catches her, bolts the door, and seats himself beside her on the ottoman. The room is in disorder/ Suddenly Dr. Goll is heard at the door. (This is his first and only appearance in the opera.) He beats upon the door and demands that they open it. Lulu, terrified, cries, "He'll kill me!" The door falls into the studio with a crash. Dr. Goll rushes upon them: "You dogs!" He gasps, struggling for breath, and falls headlong to the floor. Schwarz tries to speak to him but there is no response. "We must send for the doctor," he says.6 Lulu is momentarily left alone with Dr. Goll. She watches him anxiously. "He'll get up all of a sudden. . . . He looks at my feet and watches every step I take. . . . It's serious.... He's walking out on me. What shall I do?" f Schwarz returns, realizes that Dr. Goll is dead, and tries to establish some contact with Lulu, who seems curiously unrelated to the dreadful event that has just occurred.8 He again sits beside her on the 33 Wedekind 52, p. 103.

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

ottoman. "Can you speak the truth?" "I don't know/' she replies. "Do you believe in a Creator?" "I don't know." "Can you swear by anything?" "I don't know. Let me be! You're crazy! What do you want to know?" she asks. She goes off to get dressed, and Schwarz is left alone with the corpse. h He offers to give Lulu back to Dr. Göll. "I'm not up to being happy. I'm devilishly afraid of it. Wake up! I haven't touched her. . . . I pray to heaven to let me be happy . . . just slightly happy. For her sake, only for her sake."' Lulu returns. "Would you hook me up here? My hand's trembling." Earth Spirit 11 (Lulu 1/2) An elegant drawing room; on the back wall is the portrait of Lulu in her Pierrot costume. Lulu is alone, in a negligee. Schwarz, her husband, enters, carrying his brush and palette. a "You're looking extraordinarily charming today. . . ." They sort the morning's mail. He is astonished at the sudden demand for his work and the high prices his pictures are commanding. About to return to his studio, he pauses and turns to Lulu: 34 "Every day it's as though I were seeing you for the first time. . . . You belong to me. . . . I've nothing else, since I have you—I'm utterly lost to myself." The doorbell rings. Lulu suggests that they pretend nobody's at home, but Schwarz insists on answering the door. "It may be the art dealer," he says. He returns and tells her there's a beggar at the door. "I haven't any change on me. And it's also high time that I got to work." He goes to his studio. b Lulu goes to the door and returns with Schigolch, an asthmatic old man. They have obviously known each other for a long time. Lulu gives him some money. "You've got on in the world," he says, admiring the apartment. She offers him a drink. "My little Lulu," he says, stroking her knee. "I haven't been called 'Lulu' in ages." "What's it now?" "Eve." She describes her life with the painter. "I lie and sleep. . . . I stretch—till my bones crack. . . . I don't dance anymore." She shows him outc and returns with Dr. Schön. "What's your father doing here?" he asks. d "If I were your husband that man wouldn't cross my threshold." He has come to demand that Lulu cease her visits to him. "I'm engaged, at last. Now I want to bring my bride into a respectable home." Lulu complains of her husband: "He sees nothing. He doesn't see me and he doesn't see himself. He's blind. . . . What am I to him? . . . I'm nothing but his woman. . . ." Schön: "Let's bring this to an end. . . . I've married you off twice. You live in luxury. I've created a position for your husband. . . ." Lulu: "If I belong to anyone in the world, I belong to you. Without you I should be—I wouldn't care to say where. . . ." Schön: "Leave me out of it! . . . What use is it to me, your being married, if you're to be seen going in and out of my house at all hours of the day?" The painter hears them quarrelling and enters, his brush still in his hand. "What's the matter?" "Well," says Lulu. "Speak up!" She leaves. "It had to come out," 34 Berg transfers the mail-sorting to the very beginning of the scene, so that there is no interruption between the two strophes of the Duettino in the opera.

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44

mutters Dr. Schön to himself. "I must have my hands free at last." 6 He demands of Lulu's astonished husband that he exercise stronger supervision over his wife. "She has changed for the better since I've known her." "Since you've known her? Since when have you known her, then?" Schön reveals that he was responsible for her marriage to Dr. Göll. "It was after my wife's death, when I was making my first contacts with my present fiancée. She put herself between us. She had gotten into her head to become my wife. . . . Where someone has a background like Mignon's you can't apply the standards of bourgeois society." Schwarz is bewildered. "Of whom are you speaking?" he asks. ". . . Your wife. Who else?" "Eve?" "I called her 'Mignon.'" "I thought her name was 'Nelli.'" "That's what Dr. Göll called her." The painter is beside himself at Dr. Schön's revelations. Finally he seems to regain his composure. He rises. "Where are you going?" asks Dr. Schön. "To talk to her." "Good!" says Dr. Schön, accompanying him to the door. Dr. Schön is alone. "That was a tough job," he says. Suddenly he realizes that Lulu is in the studio at the left and that her husband has not gone to her. Fearful groans are heard from the right. Dr. Schön tries to open the door, but finds it locked. Lulu returns: "He'll open it himself, . . . when he's finished weeping." The doorbell rings. It is Aiwa, in a state of great excitement. "A revolution has broken out in Paris," he tells his father. " . . . At the newspaper office . . . nobody knows what to write." With Alwa's assistance they break the door open and discover that the painter has committed suicide. [Dr. Schön sends a servant to the police. (In the opera, he telephones.)] Dr. Schön is concerned above all with the prospect of a scandal that will ruin him. "Now I can retire from the world. . . . There lies my engagement." Aiwa: "That's the curse of your game!" Schön: " G o shout it through the streets! . . . In an hour's time they'll be selling the extra editions." Lulu points out that he is a powerful newspaper editor himself, and Schön remembers that his son had come with a message for him—there's a revolution in Paris that his subordinates at the newspaper office do not know how to deal with. "If only the police would come!" The doorbell rings. Lulu stops Dr. Schön as he goes to answer the door: "Wait, you've got blood on you. . . . It doesn't leave any marks," she says as she wipes the blood from his hand. Schön: "You monster!" "You'll marry me yet!" she says. [A police reporter is at the door. He is so horrified to see the corpse, its throat cut with a razor, that he is unable to write. Schön dictates: "Take this down—persecution mania—"] As the curtain falls, the doorbell rings again, signaling the arrival of the police.' Earth Spirit h i (Lulu 1/3) The dressing room of a theater where Lulu, who has returned to her profession as a dancer, is starring in a ballet written by Aiwa and sponsored by his father. a Alwa is speaking to Lulu, who is hidden by a screen: "I've never seen an audience so beside itself." Lulu, however, is interested only

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto in knowing whether or not Dr. Schön will be in the audience.b [Schön enters. He advises Lulu to "keep more downstage" and criticizes the author for his "symbolical buffoonery." When Aiwa protests, "The audience doesn't look as if it's bored," Dr. Schön asserts that this is "because I've been working at her success in the press for the past six months." He leaves. ] cLulu, in a ballet costume, comes out from behind the screen. "Do you still remember how I came into your room for the first time?" Aiwa: "You were wearing a dark blue dress trimmed in black velvet. . . . [My mother had been bedridden for two years by then. . . . For a long time it was the most terrible memory for me, when I suddenly saw what the real situation was." Lulu: "Then you became icily reserved toward me."] Aiwa: "My God, I saw in you something so infinitely above me! I think I had a higher regard for you than for my mother. Think of it—when my mother died—I was seventeen—I went to my father and demanded that he should make you his wife at once, or we would have to fight a duel." d Lulu, referring to Dr. Schön: "He must learn to believe in my success. [He doesn't believe in art at all. He believes only in newspapers. . . .] He brought me into the theater so that someone might be found who's rich enough to marry me. . . ." An electric bell rings, signaling Lulu to return to the stage.8 Aiwa, alone: "One could certainly write a [more] interesting play about her. Act One: Dr. Göll. Already bad! . . . Act Two: Walter Schwarz. Still more impossible! . . . Act Three: Is it really to go on this way?" f Prince Escerny, "an African explorer," enters. "I had the pleasure once of meeting the artiste at Dr. Schön's." [Lulu returns from the stage. She is still interested only in Dr. Schön's reaction to her performance. Aiwa leaves her alone with the Prince, who is obviously infatuated with her. "Would you believe it possible that at our first meeting I wasn't expecting anything more than to make the acquaintance of a young lady of the literary world? . . . You are the embodiment of the joy of life. As a man's wife you would make him supremely happy." Lulu is recalled to the stage. Aiwa returns.] (In the opera Prince Escerny addresses the above evaluation of Lulu to Aiwa, while Lulu remains offstage, i.e., "on stage" in her fictional role as a dancer.) The backstage bell rings again, to Alwa's consternation.8 Lulu returns and seats herself in an armchair, after having "fainted" onstage. "Did you see him? . . . With his fiancée?" Dr. Schön comes in. Aiwa turns to him: "That's a joke you could have spared yourself!" Schön: "You'll dance before anyone who buys a ticket. . . . On stage with you!" Lulu asks to be allowed to rest for a few minutes. Aiwa leaves, to see that the show continues until Lulu is ready to return to the stage.h Lulu and Dr. Schön are left alone. "You're right to show me where I belong. And you couldn't have done it better than by having me dance the skirt-dance in front of your fiancée. . . ." Schön: "With your background it's an extraordinary piece of luck that you should have an opportunity to appear in front of respectable people. . . ." Lulu: "I know very well what would have become of me if you hadn't saved me from it." "Are you then perhaps

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46

something different today?" "No, thank God!" The conversation turns to Prince Escerny. "He's taking me to Africa with him." "To Africa?" "Why not? You made me a dancer so that someone would come and take me away." "But not to Africa!" "Then why didn't you just let me quietly faint and silently thank heaven for it? . . . Go! For the sake of your innocent fiancée, leave me alone! . . . Marry her—then she'll dance before me in her childish misery, instead of me before her!" Schön raises his fist to strike Lulu. "Hit me! Where is your whip?" He rushes to the door, then hesitates. "Can I show myself now to the child, like this?—I'll go home!—If only I could escape from the world!"' At last Dr. Schön's helplessness is fully exposed, even to himself. At Lulu's dictation he writes a letter to his fiancée, breaking off their engagement. "Now—comes the—execution," he cries as he finishes writing.' Earth Spirit iv (Lulu 11/1) The magnificent living room of Dr. Schön's home. a Countess Geschwitz has just invited Lulu to a ball for women artists. She takes her leave of Dr. Schön and is escorted to the door by Lulu. b Schön, alone: "This, the evening of my life! . . . The plague is in the house. . . . Thirty years of work, and this my family circle!" He looks about him. "God knows who may be eavesdropping again!" He draws a revolver from his pocket and pulls the drawn curtain aside. There is no one there. Hearing Lulu returning, he replaces the revolver.0 Lulu: "Couldn't you get away this afternoon? . . . I should so much like to go for a drive. . . ." Schön: "Just the day when I must be at the Exchange. You know I'm not free today." Lulu, putting her arms round his neck: "For weeks and months now, I've had nothing of you." Schön strokes her hair. "Your lightheartedness should cheer up my old age." They leave the room together.11 The Countess cautiously returns through the center door. She hides behind a screen. "Schigolch emerges from the drapery in the gallery. He comes down the steps. Rodrigo, an acrobat, and Hugenberg, a schoolboy, have also been hiding in the gallery. Rodrigo comes down, carrying Hugenberg, who is visiting Lulu for the first time. They help themselves to Dr. Schön's liquor. Schigolch and Rodrigo explain that today this is their home, since this is the day on which Dr. Schön attends to his affairs at the Stock Exchange. Lulu returns. "I'm expecting a visitor, children." Rodrigo asks if it is Prince Escerny. "The Prince is traveling," Lulu replies. She goes upstairs to the gallery/ Rodrigo, to Schigolch: "He once wanted to marry her, you know." Schigolch: "I also once wanted to marry her." Rodrigo: "You once wanted to marry her?" Schigolch: "Didn't you once want to marry her?" Rodrigo: "Of course I once wanted to marry her!" Schigolch: "Who has not once wanted to marry her?" "So she's not your child?" Rodrigo asks. "It doesn't cross her mind." "Then what's her father's name?" asks Hugenberg. "She never had one," replies Schigolch. 8 Lulu returns from the gallery and Schigolch asks whether she has locked the door upstairs. She shows him the

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto key. "Better have left it in the lock." "Why?" "So that it can't be opened from the outside." h "Isn't he at the Exchange, then?" asks Rodrigo. "Oh yes," she replies, "but he's suffering from persecution mania." Ferdinand, a servant, enters and announces, "Dr. Schön." [Rodrigo first goes to hide behind the screen, but recoils upon discovering the Countess.] Rodrigo hides behind the curtains. The old man takes the key from Lulu and drags himself up the stairs. Hugenberg hides under the table. Lulu, to Ferdinand: "Show him in!" It is Aiwa, whom Lulu is expecting. Ferdinand shows him in. Aiwa: "The matinee is going to take place by artificial light, I think. I've—." He sees Schigolch, who is still laboriously climbing the stairs. "What's that?" Lulu replies that he is an old war comrade of his father's. "Is my father here, then?" asks Aiwa. "He had a drink with him. Then he had to go to the Exchange."' The progression of the dialogue between Lulu and Aiwa, in which Aiwa is at last led to confess his love for her, is summarized as follows by Kutscher: The whole scene unfolds in a minor key. Aiwa, who has looked upon Lulu with reverence and stood up for her like a brother when he was a child, who approached her with admiration and interest as an artist, has come to take her to a matinee. Lulu, however, in a beguiling costume, detains him for an exquisite meal. The pure visionary looks upon her with shy pleasure, as something unearthly. Her happiness is sacred to him, his goal. And he, immeasurably superior though he is to all others, disparages his position in relation to her, feels uplifted through her and is grateful to her. Nevertheless, he knows the danger that threatens him: the dissolution of his intrinsic self, the possibility of criminal behavior. Overcome by her provocations, he kisses her hand, begins to feel her body, implores her, "Destroy me!", buries his head in her lap and groans, "I love you."351

In the meantime his father has appeared in the gallery and is watching the scene below. T h e r e is dumb play between Rodrigo and Dr. Schön, each having become aware of the other's presence. Schön points his revolver at Rodrigo, the latter gestures to him that he should direct it at Aiwa, Schön cocks the revolver and aims at Rodrigo, and Rodrigo darts back behind the curtain. Schön, a newspaper in his hand, comes down the stairs. He takes Aiwa, who seems to be half-asleep, by the shoulder. "A revolution has broken out in Paris. . . . Nobody knows what to write." He leads Aiwa out of the room. Rodrigo bursts out of his hiding place and rushes for the stairs. Lulu warns him that he can't get out that way. "You'll run right into his arms." He hides behind the portières. Schön returns, revolver in hand, and lifts the curtain at the window where Rodrigo has been hiding.1 "Where's he gone?" Schön turns to Lulu: m "You creature, dragging me through the gutter to a martyr's death! . . . You destroying angel! You inexorable fate! . . . You joy of my old age! You hangman's noose! . . ." "How do you like my new dress?" asks Lulu. n Schön: "Get away from me, or by tomorrow I may be out of my mind and my son will swim in his own blood." In a state of ultimate desperation, as a mad climax to his earlier attempts to sever his tie with Lulu 35 Kutscher 64, pp. 116f.

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto 48

by marrying her off so that some external power would enforce the clean break with her that he himself is too weak to effect, he gives her his revolver and demands that she shoot herself. Lulu, testing the revolver, fires a shot at the ceiling.0 Rodrigo leaps from behind the portières, dashes up the stairs, and disappears. "What was that?" Dr. Schön asks. "Nothing," replies Lulu. "You're suffering from persecution mania." p Searching everywhere, he upsets the screen and discovers the Countess. "Now you will have to stay for dinner," he says, pushing her into an adjoining room and locking the door.q He turns the revolver in Lulu's hand away from himself, aiming it at her breast. "Let's get it over with! It will be the happiest recollection in my life. Pull the trigger!" "You can get a divorce," suggests Lulu. "That's all that's needed! So that tomorrow the next one can amuse himself where once I shuddered from abyss to abyss, the suicide at my back and you in front of me. . . ." He reaches for the revolver. "I'll spare you the trouble." Lulu wrenches herself away from him.r She speaks in a decisive, self-confident tone: "If men have killed themselves for my sake, that doesn't lower my worth.— You knew as well why you took me for your wife, as I knew why I took you as my husband.—You had betrayed your best friends with me, you couldn't very well also betray yourself with me.—If you sacrifice the evening of your life to me, you've had the whole of my youth in exchange. [You know ten times better than I do, which is more valuable.] I've never in the world wanted to seem anything other than what I've been taken for, and no one has ever taken me for anything other than what I am. . . ." s Schön rushes at her. "Down, murderess!" He forces her to her knees. Hugenberg jumps up from under the table/ crying, "Help!" Schön, distracted, turns around, and Lulu fires five shots into her husband's back. Falling forward, he is caught by Hugenberg, who lowers him into a chair. "Merciful God!" cries Lulu, rushing to him. Schön curses her and calls for Aiwa. Aiwa, crossing the gallery and coming down the stairs: "My father! Oh God! My father!" Aiwa tries to lift him. Schön: "Don't let her get away! You're the next one!" Aiwa and Hugenberg try to help Dr. Schön into the adjoining bedroom where he had locked the Countess." They open the door and the Countess walks out. Schön draws up stiffly when he sees her. "The devil!" He falls. Lulu throws herself down beside him, kisses him: "It's all over." She rises and goes towards the stairs. Aiwa: "Don't move!" v Lulu throws herself at Alwa's feet: "You can't hand me over to the police. . . . I'm still young. I'll be true to you my whole life long. Look at me, Aiwa!" There is knocking at the door. The curtain falls upon Hugenberg's words as Aiwa goes to the door: "I'll be expelled from school!"" (The orchestral interlude between the two halves of the opera accompanies a silent film that depicts Lulu's history from the moment of her arrest to the moment of her escape from prison. The film thus represents events that are referred to in the drama and that link the two plays but are not de-

The L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

picted in the dramatic action. Lulu is arrested, committed for trial, tried and imprisoned, and then—in a sequence that shows visually analogous events in reverse order, accompanied by the retrograde of the music that has accompanied the film to this point—she is removed from her cell because of illness, examined by a medical council, committed to the isolation ward of the hospital, and escapes, disguised as Countess Geschwitz. A detailed description of the scenario is given below, pages 149-157, in connection with its overlaying of the musical interlude.) Pandora's Box

[PROLOGUE IN THE BOOKSHOP]

[An encounter in verse between a Normal Reader, Enterprising Publisher, Timid Author, and Public Prosecutor.] Pandora's Box 1 (Lulu 11/2) The same setting as in the final scene of Earth Spirit. The murdered man's son, awaiting Lulu's return from prison, is now a fellow-conspirator of the strange assortment of characters that infested the apartment in the preceding act. Together they have plotted Lulu's escape. a Rodrigo, Countess Geschwitz, and Aiwa are awaiting Schigolch. b In connection with the fantastic plan devised by the Countess for Lulu's escape, the two women had allowed themselves to become infected with cholera and were together in the isolation ward of the hospital. The Countess has been discharged as cured. She expects to return to the hospital ward on a pretext and to change places with Lulu as soon as Schigolch arrives. He has made arrangements for Lulu to cross the border with Rodrigo, who, though in good health, has spent three months in the hospital "to spy out the land" (according to his own unreliable assertions). Rodrigo is now playing the part of a servant in the house that Aiwa has inherited from his father, to see that no strangers come into the house. He evidently expects to marry Lulu and to make her his partner in a circus act. However, he is not willing to leave at once, since his costumes aren't ready, so he suggests that Schigolch escort her. 36 c Schigolch arrives to fetch the Countess. d Aiwa offers the Countess a large sum of money, but she refuses to accept it. Schigolch and the Countess leave. Rodrigo is angry with Aiwa for offering money to the Countess, and insists that his financial position has been as badly damaged by the affair as hers has been. Aiwa points out that the Countess has not only reimbursed him for every penny of his own money that he has spent but has also been paying him a monthly allowance for his collaboration. "If this heroic undertaking of Countess Geschwitz hadn't come along for you, you would be lying drunk in the gutter somewhere, without a penny." Rodrigo asks Aiwa what would have happened to him if he hadn't sold his father's newspaper 36 Some of these details of the plan for Lulu's escape become clear—to whatever extent they ever do become clear—only later, when Lulu explains them to Aiwa. The libretto is even more confusing than the play in respect to the manner in which Lulu's escape is effected.

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for two million marks. "What work do you do? You wrote a melodrama in which my fiancée's legs were the two main characters and which no decent theater will put on. You poor fish! You cheeky beggar! [Two years ago I was balancing two saddled cavalry horses on this chest of mine.]" There is a knock. eIt is Hugenberg, who has just escaped from a reformatory. He has a plan for Lulu's escape and needs Alwa's assistance. Rodrigo tells him that she has died and shows him a newspaper report of her having contracted cholera. Hugenberg leaves. [Rodrigo ruminates on his prospective career in the circus with Lulu as his partner, and Aiwa on his theories of the relation between literature and life and on a new play that he is writing, as they have been doing throughout the scene.] Dragging footsteps are heard in the gallery. Rodrigo: "Here she is!— The future most magnificent trapeze artist of our time!" The curtains above the stairs are parted f and Lulu, dressed as the Countess, comes slowly downstairs, leaning on Schigolch's arm. Rodrigo is outraged because she looks so emaciated that her appearance in tights before an audience is unthinkable. He calls her an imposter and exits, threatening to expose her to the police. Schigolch, who still has to buy the train tickets, takes his leave. 8 Lulu: "I haven't seen a room in a year and a half—curtains, armchairs, pictures." Aiwa offers her a drink. She looks about the room and notices that her portrait is missing. Aiwa brings it out, explaining that he thought it best not to allow it to be seen. Aiwa is still mystified by the manner of her escape from prison, so Lulu explains the details. Aiwa: "As far as outward appearances go, you can still stand comparison with the picture." She explains that she tried to look as poorly as possible when she came in, "to get that clown off my back." [She asks what Aiwa had been doing while she was in prison. "I had a succès d'estime in literary society with a play I wrote about you." "Who's your sweetheart?" "An actress. . . ." "Does she love you?" "How should I know! I haven't seen the woman in six weeks." "Can you put up with that?" "You'll never understand that. With me there's the most intimate interaction between sensuality and intellectual creation. So that, for example, where you're concerned I've only the choice of exploiting you creatively or loving you." Lulu, as though she were telling a fairytale: "Every other night I used to dream that I'd fallen into the hands of a sex-murderer."] "Come on, give me a kiss!" Aiwa: "In your eyes there's a shimmer like the surface of a deep pool into which a stone has been thrown." "Come on!" Aiwa kisses her. "Your lips have got rather thin." "Do I repel you?" She kisses him passionately. h ["Are you afraid you won't be able to write poetry about me when I'm gone?"] Aiwa: "[On the contrary,] I shall write a dithyramb to your glory. . . . Come, sweetheart!" She tries to calm him: "Be quiet! I shot your father." "I love you no less for that." They kiss again.' She urges him to cross the border with her. "Then we'll be able to see each other as often as we like."' Aiwa: "I feel your figure like a symphony through this dress. . . . I'll sing your praises until your senses leave you!" Lulu: "Is this still the sofa on which your father bled to death?" "Be quiet— be quiet— ." k

T h e Lulu Plays and the Libretto

Pandora's Box n (Lulu m / i )

Paris: A spacious salon. The wide-open double doors in the back wall, center, lead into the gaming room. A side door leads into the dining room. The company is in evening dress. "Rodrigo proposes a toast in honor of Lulu, "our gracious hostess, Countess Adelaide d'Oubra." The banker Puntschu, the journalist Heilmann, the Marquis Casti-Piani, Lulu, Countess Geschwitz, Aiwa, Rodrigo, Magelone, her twelve-year-old daughter Kadidja, Bianetta, and Ludmilla Steinherz are engaged in animated conversation. Several of the company retire to the gaming room. b Magelone, Heilmann, Aiwa, and the banker discuss their investments in Jungfrau Funicular Railway shares. They follow the others into the gaming room. Casti-Piani asks Countess Geschwitz to leave so that he may be left alone with Lulu. c Aiwa having exhausted his inheritance, Lulu is no longer able to extract money from him to meet Casti-Piani's demands. The Marquis, police informer and procurer, threatens to turn Lulu in to the police unless she accepts a "position" in a high-class brothel in Cairo. Lulu protests that she is not suited for a life of prostitution.11 Casti-Piani goes into the gaming room. Lulu reads a note that Rodrigo had passed to her before her conversation with Casti-Piani and which she has been holding, crumpled and unread, until now. She begins to laugh hysterically. About to go into the gaming room, she meets the Countess in the doorway. Geschwitz: "Are you going because I'm coming?" Lulu: "God knows I'm not. But if you come, then I go." The Countess reminds her of "the passionate protestations, when we lay in the hospital together, through which you seduced me to let myself be locked up in prison in your place." [Lulu: ". . . 1 shudder with horror at the thought that it should ever become reality!" Lulu tells the Countess that she has an admirer in Rodrigo, who "will throw himself into the river tonight if you don't take pity on him."] The company returns from the gaming room. "Everybody won! It's unbelievable!" "But the bank won, too! How is that possible?" "It's simply colossal, where all the money comes from!" All, except for Lulu and Rodrigo, go into the dining room. e Rodrigo asks if she has read his note. Lulu: "You can threaten me with the police as much as you like. I no longer dispose of money by the thousands." Rodrigo insists that she can get the money from Aiwa, who has just been boasting of his Jungfrau shares. Rodrigo has gotten himself engaged. ["She has deposited the savings of twenty years' work with the National Bank. And besides, she loves me for my own sake." "You have my blessing." "You can keep your blessing. . . . But I told my fiancée that I had twenty thousand in shares in the bank."] Lulu: " . . . Why the devil do you pester poor Geschwitz with your proposals?" "Because the woman is of the nobility. I'm a man of the world and understand more about elegant conversation than any of you. . . . If I don't have the twenty thousand marks by tomorrow evening, I'll make a report to the police and this salon of yours comes to an end. Good-bye." f [There are various incidental meetings and fragmentary

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conversations, the exits and entrances of the characters implying a number of off-stage connections between the rooms. The company again retire to the dining room and eventually make use of an off-stage connection to return to the gaming room, where they remain unseen for a time, the double doors that lead from the gaming room into the salon having been shut.] 8 The guests return to the gaming room. (In the opera they go through the salon and the door is shut behind them.) The banker, meanwhile, is handed a telegram by the groom. He opens it and murmurs, "'Jungfrau Funicular Railway shares have fallen to'— well, that's the way of the world!" Lulu remains behind. Schigolch is admitted.11 He, too, has come to ask Lulu for money. She suddenly bursts into tears. Schigolch takes her on his knee as though she were a child. "You're overtaxing yourself, my child. You ought to go to bed with a novel for once. Have a good cry, a really good cry." She tells him that Rodrigo is going to hand her over to the police. Schigolch promises to dispose of him, provided that he can be enticed into visiting Schigolch's lodgings. "My window opens out on the river. But he won't come, he won't come." Lulu assures Schigolch that Countess Geschwitz will bring Rodrigo to him that very evening. "And then, my child, what then?" asks Schigolch. He reminds her that it's almost ten years since they've been together. Lulu promises him money and "whatever else you like—whatever I have," if he will swear to "take care of" Rodrigo. He reassures her and departs. Lulu leaves the salon.' Casti-Piani angrily pushes Rodrigo into the salon, accusing him of threatening to denounce Lulu to the police if she doesn't give herself to him. Rodrigo indignantly denies the accusation and Casti-Piani leaves. Lulu returns' and tells Rodrigo that the Countess will lend her the money that Rodrigo has demanded, provided that Lulu can arrange an affair between the Countess and Rodrigo. Rodrigo goes to the dining room to await the Countess. Lulu calls the Countess in from the dining room. She tells her that Rodrigo threatens to denounce her unless the Countess submits to him. "How can such an atrocity save your life? I don't understand it. . . ." Lulu: "I'm yours, my darling, if you will keep the acrobat quiet till morning. He only needs to have his vanity soothed; you must entreat him to take pity on you." Lulu gives the Countess the address of Schigolch's lodgings. Rodrigo and the Countess leave together. Lulu accompanies them to the exit and returns quickly with the groom, whom she asks to change clothes with her. They go into the dining room.k A commotion is heard in the gaming room. The doors are flung open and the company, surrounding Puntschu the banker, come into the salon. They have just learned of the collapse of the Jungfrau shares and demand satisfaction from Puntschu. "How is it possible? So we're on the rocks!" cries Aiwa. "What am I supposed to say, who've lost my whole fortune?" replies

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto the banker. 1 He leaves quickly with Bianetta. Kadidja tries to revive her mother, who has fainted. (In the play, they remain on stage; in the opera, Magelone leaves, supported by her daughter.) Heilmann throws his crumpled shares away and leaves'" [with Ludmilla Steinherz, who has just suggested to him that he may be able to recoup part of his losses by sending "a few short articles about the present company to the German police"]. Lulu, dressed in the groom's uniform, comes in from the dining room. She tells Aiwa that they have been denounced. "In two minutes the police will be here." They leave together. A police officer, in plainclothes, enters, followed by Casti-Piani: "You've under arrest—in the name of the law!" Casti-Piani: "What nonsense are you up to? That's not the right one!"" Pandora's Box 111 (Lulu 111/2) London: A wretched attic room, without windows. A bowl of water stands under the skylight. A bottle of brandy and a smoking oil lamp are on a rickety flower stand. a Schigolch, lying on a torn mattress, and Aiwa, wrapped in a rug and lying on an old chaise longue, are alone. Schigolch: "The rain's drumming up a parade." Aiwa: "The weather sets just the right mood for her first appearance." [Lulu, barefoot, wearing a torn black dress, comes in from the adjoining room. She is about to go into the street as a common prostitute for the first time. They talk, as she waits for the rain to let up. Schigolch offers her encouragement and advice, while Aiwa tries to prevent her from going out. She points out that he is incapable of earning any money to provide them with food. She leaves.] Schigolch and Aiwa await Lulu's return from the street with her first customer. [Aiwa dwells on the past, recalling how at first they "were like brother and sister to each other"; how "in spite of her fabulous superiority in the practical questions of life, she permitted me to explain the content of Tristan und Isolde to her," how "before I could be aware of it, she acquired this terrible power over me"; how Dr. Goll's widow became the painter's wife, the painter's widow, his father's wife, his father's murderer, his mistress. Except for an occasional sarcasm, Schigolch ignores Aiwa. He is concerned with the problem at hand: Lulu's inexperience as a streetwalker.] Schigolch: "I very much doubt that anyone will take the bait." Footsteps are heard on the stairs. b Aiwa: "I won't stand for it! I'll throw the fellow out!" Schigolch pushes him into a closet, goes in after him, and shuts the door. c Lulu enters with Mr. Hunidei. Lulu: "I admit it's not very cozy here." Mr. Hunidei puts his forefinger to his lips. "We're quite alone here. No one can hear us." Hunidei remains silent and indicates that she is to do likewise. Lulu: "I hope you're going to give me something." He holds her mouth shut and presses some money into her hand. Lulu takes the lamp and goes with him into her room. d Schigolch and Aiwa furtively creep out of their hidingplace. The stage is in darkness, save for the shaft of light coming from under the door of Lulu's room. Aiwa creeps to Lulu's door and listens. Schigolch

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gropes his way to the cape that Mr. Hunidei has laid on a chair. He goes through the pockets, but all he finds is a book, Admonitions for Pious Pilgrims and Those Desirous of Becoming Such. He replaces the cape. 8 Aiwa and Schigolch return to the closet.' Lulu and Hunidei reenter. "Will you visit me again?" He holds her mouth shut. She looks at the ceiling in despair and shakes her head. She throws her arms round his neck. He gently disengages himself, kisses her hand, and noiselessly departs. Aiwa and Schigolch emerge. Lulu, tonelessly: "How exciting he was!" 6 They hear footsteps. Aiwa supposes Hunidei must be coming back for his book. Lulu, listening: "No, it's not he. That's someone else." They wonder who could possibly be visiting them here. The visitor is at the door. h It is Countess Geschwitz, poorly dressed and carrying a rolled-up canvas. "If I haven't come at a convenient time I'll go away again." She tells them that her efforts to get money for them have been fruitless. "I haven't come quite empty-handed, all the same." Aiwa takes the canvas from her. It is Lulu's portrait. Lulu cries out, "Take that picture out of my sight! Throw it out the window!" Aiwa is rejuvenated at the sight of the portrait. Schigolch suggests that they nail it up. "It will make an excellent impression on our clientele." Aiwa fastens the canvas to the wall. Schigolch: "The whole apartment has a more elegant appearance." Aiwa compares the picture to Lulu. "The childlike expression in the eyes is still quite the same, in spite of all she's been through since. But the fresh dew that covers the skin, the fragrant breath about the lips, the radiant light that beams from the white brow, and this bold splendor of the youthful flesh on the neck and arms—" Schigolch: "All that's been carted away with the rubbish." Lulu is about to go into the street again. Aiwa tries to stop her. The Countess asks where she is going. Aiwa explains. The Countess insists on accompanying Lulu.' Aiwa and Schigolch alone, as before. [Aiwa is overcome with self-pity but can still consider his predicament in terms that are consistent with his literary calling. "With the most serene purposefulness, I sought the company of people who had never in their lives read a book. With complete selfdenial and enthusiasm I clung to this element in order to be lifted aloft to the highest peaks of fame as a poet. It was a miscalculation. I'm the martyr of my calling." Schigolch ignores him. He is concerned, as always in the past, with Lulu's advancement and success, and regrets that they permitted the Countess to go out into the street with her. "She'll drive off anything that breathes, with her aristocratic death's head."] (The brief dialogue between Schigolch and Aiwa at this point in the libretto is partly taken from their conversation at the beginning of the scene, where Aiwa complains of the disease with which Lulu has infected him, and concludes with the aphorism that Schigolch utters later in the play, just before he leaves: "She can't make a living out of love because love is her life.")' They hear footsteps. Aiwa refuses to join Schigolch in their hidingplace and creeps back under his rug. Schigolch: "Noblesse obligel A respecta-

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto ble man acts in a way that's befitting to his position."k Lulu enters with Kungu Poti, an African prince. He complains of the darkness and cold. Lulu compliments him on his good looks and offers him the brandy bottle. She asks him how much he will give her. He promises her a gold piece, but refuses to show it to her. "Me never pay before." "You can give it to me later, but show it to me!" "No understand!" He seizes Lulu round the waist. She resists and cries out, "Let me go!" Aiwa creeps up behind Kungu Poti and pulls him back by the coat collar. The Negro turns quickly. "Oh, oh, here is den of murderers!" He hits Aiwa on the head with a blackjack and Aiwa collapses. "Nice dreams!" He points to Aiwa. "Dreams of you." He hastens to the door and leaves. Lulu, alone: "How can I stay here! Who could bear it here now! Better to go back to the streets." She leaves. Schigolch emerges from the closet.1 He tries to revive Aiwa. "He has to be got out of the way." He drags Aiwa out of the room.1" (In the play Schigolch drags the body into Lulu's room. In the opera he drags it behind the boarded partition, where he and Aiwa had been hiding.) Countess Geschwitz comes in from the street. "She sent me on ahead." Schigolch: "That's sensible! I'll be downstairs in the pub, if anyone should ask for me." Schigolch goes out." The Countess sits down near the door. [She thanks God for setting her apart from other human beings. "Only someone who isn't human himself knows them. . . . Every word they utter is untrue, a lie. They don't know this, because they are like this today, like that tomorrow, depending on whether they have eaten, drunk, made love, or not. . . . Have there really ever been people who were made happy by love? What is their happiness after all, except being able to sleep better and forget everything? . . ." Lulu enters with Dr. Hilti. The Countess remains seated at the door, unnoticed by them. Dr. Hilti teaches philosophy at the University. "It's actually the first time I've been with a girl. . . . As a student I used to get only two francs for pocket money and I had better uses for it than girls. . . . But now I need it. This evening I got myself engaged. . . ." Lulu takes the lamp and leads him into her room.] The Countess, alone, takes a small revolver from her pocket and holds it to her forehead. [Dr. Hilti discovers Alwa's corpse and rushes out of Lulu's room. Lulu holds him by the sleeve and pleads with him to stay. She follows him into the street.] The Countess: "Better to hang! If she sees me lying in my own blood today she won't shed a single tear for me. . . . Wouldn't it be better if I jump off the bridge? Which might be colder, the water or her heart? . . . Better to hang!— Stab myself?—Hm, nothing would come of it. . . . Better to hang! . . ."[She tries to hang herself, but the strap breaks.] She sinks to her knees before Lulu's picture and clasps her hands. "Have pity on me, have pity on me, have pity on me!"° Lulu opens the door and admits Jack. He sees Countess Geschwitz on her knees before Lulu's picture. "Who's that?" "It's my sister, sir. She's insane. I don't know how to get rid of her." Jack: "You seem to have a pretty

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mouth." Lulu: "I have it from my mother." Jack: "It looks like it. How much do you want? I don't have much money left." Lulu: "Don't you want to stay all night?" Jack, on the point of leaving: "Why should I stay here all night? It sounds suspicious! While I'm asleep someone will turn my pockets out." 37 Lulu: "No, I won't do that. No one will do that. Don't go because of that. Please!" Countess Geschwitz, still on her knees, has turned toward Jack. Lulu pulls her back. "Lie down, will you!" Jack: "Let her be! She's not your sister. She's in love with you." He pats the Countess on the head as though she were a dog. "Poor creature!"p He stares at Lulu. Lulu: "Why do you stare at me like that?" Jack: "I sized you up by the way you walk. I said to myself, she must have a good figure." Lulu: "How can anyone see such a thing?" Jack: "I even saw that you have a pretty mouth.— But I've only got a silver piece on me." Lulu: "Well, what does it matter! Give it to me!" Jack: "But you will have to give half of it back, so I can take the bus tomorrow morning." Lulu: "I've nothing in my pocket." Jack: "Have a good look! Go through your pockets! There, what's that? Let me see it!" Lulu holds out her hand. "That's all I have." Jack: "Give me the money!" Lulu: "I'll change it tomorrow morning and give you half of it." Jack: "No, give me the whole thing." Lulu gives him the money. "For heaven's sake! But come now!" She takes the lamp. Jack: "We don't need a light. The moon's shining." Lulu puts the lamp down. She throws her arms round his neck. "[I won't hurt you.] I like you so much! Don't make me beg any longer!" He follows her out of the room. (In the play Lulu leads Jack behind the boarded partition that Schigolch and Aiwa had used as a hiding-place, rather than into her room, presumably in order to avoid a repetition of her experience with Dr. Hilti. In the opera, which omits the episode with Dr. Hilti, Lulu takes Jack into her room.) The lamp goes out. The moonlight, shining in through the skylight, makes everything clearly visible. qThe Countess, alone, speaks as if in a dream: "This is the last evening that I'll spend with these people. I'll go back to Germany. . . . I'll take my matriculation. I must fight for women's rights, study jurisprudence."* (The remainder of the scene was greatly revised by Berg. In the play, Lulu, screaming, tears open the door and holds it shut from the outside. Countess Geschwitz rushes to the door, pulls out her revolver, and pushes Lulu behind her. Jack, bent double, pulls open the door and plunges a knife into the Countess's stomach. She fires a shot at the ceiling, and collapses. Lulu looks wildly about her, suddenly seizes the bottle, dashes it against the table, and rushes at Jack with the jagged neck of the bottle in her hand. He raises his right foot and sends her sprawling to the floor. He picks her up. Lulu: "No, no! Have pity! Murderer! Police! Police!" Jack: "Be quiet! You won't get away from me again!" He carries her back 37 Berg's Particeli retains Wedekind's stage direction here: "geht an der Geschwitz vorbei und öffnet den Verschlag" ("walks past Geschwitz and opens the closet"). This is obviously an error and should be omitted or altered, since it is inconsistent with a revision that Berg made previously. In the opera Alwa's corpse is dragged by Schigolch into the "Verschlag," rather than into Lulu's room as it is in the play.

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

behind the boarded partition, where she had gone with him. Her cries are heard from behind the partition. In the opera we do not see Lulu again after she takes Jack into her room. Jack has locked the door from inside. Lulu cries out, "No! No! No! No!" There is an agonized scream. The Countess rushes to the door and shakes it with all her might. Jack, crouching, suddenly pulls the door open and stabs the Countess.) Jack: "That was some job!" He washes his hands in the bowl. "What a lucky bastard I am!" He looks around. "They haven't even got a towel here!" [He wipes his hands on the Countess's petticoat.] "It will all be up with you too, soon," he says to the Countess. He leaves. 1 The Countess, as she dies: "Lulu! My angel! Let me see you one more time! I am near you— will stay near you— forever!"" (The last spoken word in the play, the curse uttered by the Countess at the instant of her death, "O verflucht!", was struck out by the composer.) Berg saw his heroine as a latter-day counterpart of Mozart's Don Giovanni, and reincarnated conventions of the classical operatic tradition to establish parallels between the musico-dramatic world of the Don and that of Lulu. The behavior of Wedekind's bourgeois society is remarkably projected by means of these conventions, which prove not only to be consistent with but even to enhance the Naturalistic elements of the two plays on which the opera is based. Essentially, of course, Wedekind's Lulu plays represent a radical rejection of the principles of Naturalist drama. Though the dialogue has a surface similarity to the everyday speech that is the earmark of Naturalism, the non sequiturs, the literal recurrence of fragments of dialogue, and other details generate an undertone of absurdity, as though the characters were in communication neither with each other nor with themselves. Though they appear to have all the extrinsic qualities of "real people," they are in effect types, as in the Expressionist drama of which Wedekind was the precursor. Thus dialogue and dramatis personae, though almost trivially realistic on the surface, engender an atmosphere of unreality, even of fantasy, within which Lulu and Schigolch are vaguely felt to be mythological beings. In The Awakening of Spring, too, Wedekind mixed the real and the supernatural; but whereas in the earlier play the supernatural is literally represented on the stage in the persons of the Muffled Gentleman and the ghost of Moritz, in the two Lulu dramas a mythical earth-goddess, beyond time and place, is suggested by means of vague hints, statements which on the surface seem to be prosaic and trivial. There is the matter of her name, for example. In the opening scene of the opera the painter says, "I love you, Nelli." "My name isn't Nelli. It's Lulu." "I will call you Eve," he replies. In the next scene Schigolch fondly addresses her as "my little Lulu." "That you should call me 'Lulu,'" she says; "I have not been called 'Lulu' in the memory of man." Later in the same scene we learn that Dr. Schon knows her as "Mignon." Then there is the question of her parentage. Schigolch, whom the painter had taken to be a beggar, Dr. Schon identifies for us as Lulu's father. But later we learn that Schigolch, too, is one of the admirers who "once wanted to marry her." Rodrigo is surprised to learn that Lulu is not Schigolch's child. "She never had a father," Schigolch tells him, and Lulu agrees, "That's right. I'm a miracle." Who

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Schigolch really is we never learn, but there are casual suggestions that the frail, asthmatic old man too was once her lover, in some vague undated past—long before the curtain rose on the present drama—which he alone survives unchanged. But in that past we feel that he must, in some sense, have been her father, for he alone seems always to have known her, and is always at hand with his aid and counsel, comforting her as though she were a child when the threat of exposure to the police reduces her to tears, and showing his paternal concern in his offstage murder of Rodrigo,38 in his assistance in her escape from prison, and in his attempt to instruct her in the professional ways of streetwalking. (In this last, however, he is unsuccessful. Love is not her profession: "She cannot make a living out of love, because love is her life.") And in Schigolch's survival at the end Lulu's mythic origins and continual reincarnation are suggested, as they were earlier in the variety of names by which she is known and in her claim to a virgin birth in the comic ensemble number of those who "once wanted to marry her."39 The period between the death of Wedekind in 1918 and Berg's conversion of the two Lulu plays into a libretto ten years later was one of intense and exuberant activity in the German theater, and the revolutionary developments of this period are reflected in Berg's opera. Elements of Wedekind's drama that foreshadow the Expressionist movement are clarified and enhanced by means of revisions that are consistent with, but not merely a consequence of, the simplifications and compressions necessitated by the difference in medium. Berg emphasizes the relative anonymity and insignificance of the multitude of subordinate characters by depriving them of the names assigned to them by Wedekind, identifying them merely by title or profession. Only the five principal characters—Lulu, Schigolch, Dr. Schon, Aiwa, and Countess Geschwitz—retain the names given them by Wedekind.40 The distinction that Wedekind himself makes between the identity of Lulu, each of whose three husbands has his own name for her, and that of the other characters is thus sharpened in Berg's libretto. The technical innovations of 38 From a remark of Schigolch's, omitted in the opera, we learn that his plan to do away with Rodrigo was successful. 39 Schigolch originally appears in Wedekind's youthful verse drama, Elins Erweckung, which Gittleman calls "his initial dramatic exploration of the nature of sexuality." Elin is a theological student tormented by the "impurities" that fill his dreams. "In a cemetery he confesses his feelings to his friend Oscar, a detached and enlightened young physician," who assures him that "the expression of these instinctive drives is psychologically and physiologically desirable" but advises him "to avoid marital entanglements, which in Oscar's mind only further restrict the genuine expression of these natural urges. Suddenly, from behind a tombstone an old beggar named Schigolch emerges to support Oscar's argument and invites the young men to meet his ward, an orphaned girl whom he had discovered wandering through the city streets and whom he has 'educated' in the beauties of love." (Gittleman 69, pp. 57f.) 40 It was only in the course of composition that Berg worked out his definitive list of Personen. In the Particell the Painter, for example, is identified as "Schwarz" in 1/1 and as "Walter" in 1/2. Subsequently the composer crossed out the first appearance of the name "Schwarz" and substituted "Der Maler," and this is how this part is consistently designated in Berg's typescript of the libretto and in the full score. The personal names of subordinate characters are sometimes deleted from the dialogue and sometimes not. For example, Dr. Schon refers to the Painter by his name in 1/2, mm. 550, 797f., and 812; but in the following scene, when Aiwa considers Lulu's history as the possible subject of "an interesting play [opera]," where Wedekind has "Erster Akt: Dr. Goll" and "Zweiter Akt: Walter Schwarz," Berg substitutes "Erste Szene: Der Medizinalrat" and "Zweite Szene: Der Maler." (Compare pp. 63 (n.47) and 151, below.)

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

Expressionism are represented by Berg's introduction of a three-minute film sequence, as a bridge between the first half of the opera, based on Earth Spirit, and the second, based on its sequel. The allusions to Wedekind in the text of the play are transformed in the libretto into allusions to Berg. In Earth Spirit Aiwa imagines Lulu as the subject of an "interesting play." Berg transforms Aiwa into a composer, whose real identity is revealed in the orchestra (I/3, m. 1095) when we hear the opening chords of Wozzeck as Aiwa says, "One could write an interesting opera about her." (In the following scene, m. 277, there is another musical quotation from Wozzeck, at Alwa's words, "Ich hab' auch nur Fleisch und Blut." [Compare Wozzeck's "Man hat auch sein Fleisch und Blut!" in his aria in Act I.] Jarman has called attention to still another reference to Wozzeck in the music of Lulu: the C major chord that accompanies Schigolch's request for money in I/2, mm. 467-469. [Compare Wozzeck II/i, mm. n6ff.] 4 1 These two quotations make their mark by their total irrelevance; they insist on connections where in fact there is only coincidence. They are musically analogous to some of the seeming absurdities in Wedekind's dialogue.) In Pandora's Box Aiwa describes himself as the author of Earth Spirit, with which he had hoped "to bring about a rebirth of a great and vigorous art," but which, as the circus performer tauntingly reminds him, "no respectable theater will put on." His contemptuous reference to Alwa's Schauerdrama ("thriller") is changed to Schauderoper by Berg. In the play Aiwa is peripherally occupied, as Wedekind himself was, as a musician, and when Lulu returns from prison he makes use of musical metaphors in expressing his love for her: "Through this dress your figure feels like a symphony. These slender ankles, this cantabile; this enchanting swelling; and these knees, this capriccio; and the powerful andante of voluptuousness." Berg revises this passage so that it relates to himself as the composer of the Lyric Suite: "Through this dress your form is like music. These ankles—a grazioso; this delightful swelling—a cantabile-, these knees—a misterioso; and the powerful andante of voluptuousness." (The corresponding movements of the Lyric Suite are gioviale, amoroso, misterioso, and appassionato. The delirando and desolato are still to come.) "You and your composer have run dry," the Marquis says to Lulu in the first scene of the final act, instead of "You and your writer have run dry," as the play has it. Ultimately Aiwa becomes, as he himself says in the play, "a martyr to his profession," hopelessly involved as a participant in the very drama that should have been the subject of his greatest achievement as an artist—a victim, like all the others, of Lulu, and murdered at last in her garret in London as a direct consequence of his attachment to her. Thus the drama of which we are a witness is itself a subject of that drama. By the time Berg came to write his opera this device was no longer a novelty. Its implications, in the opera, are infinitely more subtle, complex, and extensive than they are in Wedekind's play. Not only is the creation of the work a subject of the work itself; the details of the production—the practical performance problems that lie outside the drama per se and that are, presumably, the province of the 41 Jarman 81b, ROH.

59

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto 60

producer rather than of the composer—are mapped into the opera. This aspect of the work, in its largest dimensions, is realized through the assignment, by the composer, of multiple roles to individual performers, an assignment that has farreaching consequences for the musical structure and that creates, as the work progresses, more and more of a sense of déjà vu, until, in the final scene, the staged events seem to be accompanied by a shadow of themselves in which the first half of the opera, culminating and concluding in the death of Dr. Schôn, is reenacted in a nightmarish distortion. The composer's first tentative plan for the assignment of multiple roles is mentioned in his letter of August 7,1930, to Schoenberg: "The four men who visit Lulu in her attic have to be represented in the opera by those singers who have represented the men who become Lulu's victims in the first half of the opera—in inverted order of appearance, to be sure." In the course of the composition the concept of multiple roles unfolded on a far larger scale and in more elaborate detail than he had anticipated. In his letter Berg mentions only one of several types of multiple roles that occur in the opera—those that are based on an essential aspect of the dramatic content. But even here, the opera departs considerably from the scheme outlined by Berg. First of all, he had to eliminate one of "the four men who visit Lulu in her attic," if her visitors were to be made to correspond to her three victims in the first half of the opera. The doubled roles represent her clients in the order in which her victims have perished. The first is Dr. Goll, whom Berg names only by his title, Der Medizinalrat.*2 Felled by a stroke immediately upon his first appearance in the opera, he has only the silent role of a corpse to play for the remainder of the scene. His mute part is doubled with that of the apprehensive Dr. Hunidei, who doesn't dare to speak a single word during his one appearance in the opera as Lulu's first visitor in the final scene. Berg drops his name and designates the role by a title, "the Professor," thus associating the part with Wedekind's "Dr. Hilti," who is otherwise omitted from the opera. Lulu's second visitor, identified in the opera only as "the Negro," is represented by the same performer who plays the part of her second victim, the Painter. (Berg must have found intriguing the accidental relevance of the name, Schwarz, that Wedekind gives to the Painter in the play.) And finally, the same performer who had played the role of Dr. Schôn returns in the role of her last client, Jack the Ripper. The significance of these doublings, and the musical recapitulations associated with them, may be summed up in a single sentence of the lecture that Berg heard Kraus give at the first performance of Pandora's Box in 1905: "The great retaliation has begun, the revenge of a world of men, which dares to avenge itself for its own guilt." 43 The assignment of more than one role to a single performer, where this assignment is determined solely by practical and economic considerations, is normally the responsibility of the director, not the author, but Berg assumes respon42 N o English term corresponds to this honorary title. We will call him the "Medical Specialist." 43 Kraus 58, p. 12.

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

sibility for these practical aspects of the production as well. The different types of multiple roles that are called for may be classified as follows: A. Dual roles, assigned to a single performer for reasons essential to the dramatic structure. 1. The Medical Specialist and the Professor. 2. The Painter and the Negro. 3. Dr. Schon and Jack the Ripper. B. Triple roles, assigned to a single performer as a matter of convenience and economy only. 1. The Wardrobe Mistress, the Schoolboy, the Groom. 2. The Prince, the Manservant, the Marquis. 3. The Medical Specialist and the Banker; the Banker and the Professor. C. The dual role of the Animal Tamer and the Acrobat. 44 D. Optional doublings, not specified by the composer and devoid of musical or dramatic implications. The last six roles named in the complete list of dramatis personae below are negligible and musically anonymous parts which may be shared among three players: the Stage Manager may be paired with the Police Commissioner, and the Journalist and the Servant with the Clown and the Stagehand. The impersonation of two or more characters by a single performer is reflected in the musical treatment of these characters in a manner consistent with the principle that underlies this device in each instance. The overall dramatic and formal design hinges upon the three dual roles of the Medical Specialist and the Professor, the Painter and the Negro, Dr. Schon and Jack. Since each of the three entrances in the final scene reintroduces extended musical episodes originally associated with one of Lulu's three victims, the final scene serves as a formal recapitulation in the musical design of the whole. The assignment of the parts of the Medical Specialist and the Professor to the same performer who is given the singing role of the Banker in III/i is entirely motivated by the economics of the stage production: whereas a non-singing actor will not be able to perform a singing role, there is nothing to prevent the singer who takes the small role of the Banker from also performing the non-singing roles of the Medical Specialist and the Professor. The representation of the Medical Specialist and the Banker by the same special set (Ex. 84) is a musical reference to this entirely extrinsic element of the drama. The endowment of musical significance upon an aspect of the production rather than of the drama per se imparts dramatic significance to an element that would otherwise have none. The drama remains a self-contained entity, but that which is conventionally outside the drama, the procedures to which the given work will owe its existence on the stage, are, by musical means, taken into the drama. When 44 "For the German 'Athlet' the English 'acrobat' has been preferred as conveying better than 'athlete' the idea of a professional showman" (translator's note in Arthur Jacobs' [78] English version of the libretto).

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The Lulu Plays and the Libretto 62

the theme of the Chorale that accompanies the Prince in I/3 is twice recapitulated in connection with the Manservant in II/i, it too refers to an extrinsic detail, the impersonation of both roles by the same performer—whose principal assignment is still another role, that of the Marquis in III/i. The parts of both the Schoolboy and the Groom are Hosenrollen, that is, male parts performed by a woman, and are taken by the singer who performed the role of the Wardrobe Mistress in I/3. Of the three, only the Schoolboy is represented by special thematic material (Ex. 85). The Wardrobe Mistress and the Groom make only the briefest of appearances and do not sing except as members of large ensembles. The single entrance of the Animal Tamer in the Prologue and the several entrances of the Acrobat in Acts II and III are assigned to the same performer in reference to their common activity as circus performers. The Acrobat's Chords (Ex. 60) mark the beginning and end (mm. 16 and 79) of the Animal Tamer's description of his menagerie. It is Alwa's twelve-tone series (Ex. 42), however, rather than the Acrobat's series (Ex. 92), that is specifically associated with the part of the Animal Tamer. Thus the Animal Tamer, inviting the audience to see the beasts in his menagerie, is identified with the composer, Aiwa, though the two roles are assigned to different performers. The music that accompanies the Animal Tamer's description of his beasts associates each of them with one of the characters of the drama. Though none of the latter is named in the Prologue, Dr. Schon is musically identified as the tiger, the Acrobat as the bear, the Marquis as the monkey, Schigolch as the "crawling creatures of every region," the Medical Specialist as the lizard, Countess Geschwitz as the crocodile, and Lulu as the snake. A camel is listed but is not represented by a special set; however, since he is said to be "just behind the curtain," he is clearly intended to represent the Painter, who is discovered at his easel when the curtain rises at the conclusion of the Prologue. Alwa's characteristic music tells us that the Animal Tamer is speaking for him. He is not identified as one of the beasts in what is, after all, his menagerie. The delivery of the author's (composer's) speech to the audience by a circus performer is typical of Wedekind's ironic equation of these two professions, not only in this but in many other works. And by commencing the drama proper, when the curtain rises at the conclusion of the Prologue, with Alwa's line, "May I come in?", the composer himself addresses the "honored spectators" as he places his head "between the jaws of a beast of prey." As a prefatory note in the first edition (1936) of the piano-vocal score of Acts I and II of Lulu affirmed, "Alban Berg completed the composition of his three-act opera Lulu shortly before his death." He did not, however, complete the orchestration of the third act, which remained unpublished, save for those fragments incorporated in the Lulu Suite, for forty-three years after the composer's death. Erwin Stein's reduction was conscientiously and expertly done, but unfortunately he failed to understand the radical ways in which Berg had reconceived Wedekind's drama. Since the list of Personen in the published score was restricted to the characters in Acts I and II, it inevitably failed to convey Berg's overall plan for the doubling and tripling of parts; moreover, it was defective in conveying his intentions in respect to the two published acts. Aiwa was identified as a "writer" rather

T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto than a "composer," the Acrobat's name, "Rodrigo," was restored to him, and the doubling of the roles of the Prince and the Manservant was nowhere indicated. My conclusions respecting the correct identification of roles and their doublings and triplings were deduced from otherwise inexplicable musical correspondences (thematic and serial connections and formal recapitulations) and from otherwise inexplicable revisions in Wedekind's text.45 Subsequently these conclusions were verified by Douglas Jarman from Berg's own sketches, some of which give explicit indications of his intentions.46 Had Berg survived to supervise the publication of his opera, he would have provided a list of dramatis personae that would have coincided in every essential respect with the following: 47

Lulu Gräfin Geschwitz Eine Theater-Garderobiere (I. Akt, 3. Sz.) Der Gymnasiast (II. Akt) Der Groom (III. Akt, 1. Sz.) Der Medizinalrat (I. Akt, 1 Sz.) Der Bankier (III. Akt, 1. Sz.) Der Professor (III. Akt, 2. Sz.) Der Maler (I. Akt, 1. und 2. Sz.) Der Neger (III. Akt, 2. Sz.) Dr. Schön (I. Akt; II. Akt, 1. Sz.) Jack the Ripper (III. Akt, 2. Sz.) Aiwa, Dr. Schön's Sohn, Komponist Schigolch Der Tierbändiger (Prolog) Der Athlet (II. Akt; III. Akt, 1. Sz.) Der Prinz (I. Akt, 3. Sz) Der Kammerdiener (II. Akt, 1 Sz.) Der Marquis (III. Akt, 1. Sz.)

Hoher Sopran Dramatischer Mezzosopran '

Alt

|

Hoher Bass

j

Lyrischer Tenor Heldenbariton Jugendlicher Heldentenor Hoher Charakterbass Heldenbass mit Buffo-Einschlag

> Tenor-Buffo

45 I came to these conclusions through my study of Berg's Particell (short score) of Act III, which I was allowed to examine in Vienna in August 1963, and reported them in Perle 64a, JAMS, and Perle 67d, A/M. 46 Jarman 78, IABSN. 47 This list of Personen is adapted from that which appears in Berg's working typescript of the libretto. Berg's list of roles in this copy of the libretto is still only a provisional one: "Der Athlet" is still identified as "Rodrigo," Alwa's profession is still given as "writer," a pairing of the Banker's part with the "low buffo bass" part of the Stage Manager is called for (whereas the vocal range actually assigned to the Banker in the ensembles of III/l is between the "low baritone" of "Ein Diener" and the "Heldenbass" of "Der Athlet"), and the impossible pairing of the Banker with "Der Polizeikommissär" is called for as well (impossible because "Der Polizeikommissär" makes his only appearance in the opera at the conclusion of III/l, twenty-seven bars after the Banker's final exit, and not in Act II, as Berg's list of Personen erroneously indicates).

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T h e L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

64

Der Theaterdirektor (I. Akt, 3. Sz.) Ein Clown (stumme Rolle, Prolog) Ein Bühnenarbeiter (stumme Rolle, Prolog) Der Polizeikommissär (Sprechrolle, III. Akt, 1. Sz.)

Bass-Buffo (tief)

AUSSERDEM IN DER G E S E L L S C H A F T S - S Z E N E ( i l l . AKT, 1 . SZ.)

Eine Fünfzehnjährige Ihre Mutter Eine Kunstgewerblerin Ein Journalist Ein Diener

Opernsoubrette Alt Mezzosopran Hoher Bariton Tiefer Bariton

In spite of Berg's drastic compression of Wedekind's text, the number of parts is approximately the same. A newspaper reporter, a chambermaid, and Dr. Hilti are eliminated. On the other hand, the offstage drummer of the Prologue to Earth Spirit is brought on in the mute role of a clown in Berg's version of the Prologue; and the stage manager, who only knocks at the door of Lulu's dressing room when she refuses to dance before Dr. Schön's fiancée, and a wardrobe mistress are brought on stage at this point in the opera, to make their contributions to the general uproar. The very negligible roles of Bianetta and Ludmilla in the salon scene are combined into a single character whom Berg has arbitrarily assigned the profession of Kunstgewerblerin (a "worker in arts and crafts"), for which I have substituted "designer" in the following translated list of characters.

Dramatis Personae Lulu Countess Geschwitz Wardrobe Mistress (Act I, Sc. 3) The Schoolboy (Act II) | The Groom (Act III, Sc. 1) The Medical Specialist (Act I, Sc. 1) The Banker (Act III, Sc. 1) | The Professor (Act III, Sc. 2) The Painter (Act I, Sc. 1/2) J The Negro (Act III, Sc. 2) Dr. Schon (Act I; Act II, Sc. 1) Jack the Ripper (Act III, Sc. 2) Aiwa, Dr. Schon's son, a composer Schigolch The Animal Tamer (Prologue) The Acrobat (Act II; Act III, Sc. 1)

High Soprano Dramatic Mezzosoprano Contralto

High Bass Lyric Tenor Heroic Baritone Youthful Heroic Tenor High Character Bass Heroic Bass with touch of Buffo

The Lulu Plays and the Libretto

The Prince (Act I, Sc. 3) The Manservant (Act II, Sc. 1) The Marquis (Act III, Sc. 1) The Stage Manager (Act I, Sc. 3) Clown (silent role, Prologue) Stagehand (silent role, Prologue) The Police Commissioner (speaking role, Act III, Sc. 1)

1 > Buffo Tenor J Buffo Bass (Low)

ADDITIONAL ROLES IN THE ENSEMBLES OF ACT I I I , SC. 1

Fifteen-year-old Girl Her Mother Designer Journalist Servant

Opera Soubrette Contralto Mezzosoprano High Baritone Low Baritone

In the libretto the "Fifteen-year-old Girl" is substituted for Wedekind's twelve-year-old "Kadidja." This is a superb instance of Berg's ingenuity as a librettist, in preserving the interesting implications of entirely subordinate details of the original drama, in spite of his elimination of the greater part of the original text. Kadidja is on holiday from her convent school. Casti-Piani, Puntschu, and Heilmann all find her enchanting, but Magelone is determined to preserve her daughter's innocence. "I won't have the child's youth corrupted as mine was." She maintains that "all the money in the world" could not buy her consent to the child's "corruption." But when, at the conclusion of the salon scene, the two are left alone, the mother having fainted upon learning that she has lost her life's savings in the collapse of the Jungfrau shares, the following interchange takes place:48 KADIDJA (in tears, shaking her mother). Mama! Mama! Wake up! Everyone has run away! MAGELONE (coming round). O n e ' s youth p a s t — o n e ' s best d a y s — o h , this life! KADIDJA. But I am y o u n g , Mama! W h y shouldn't I earn m o n e y ? I don't w a n t to go back to the convent. Please, Mama, let m e stay w i t h y o u . MAGELONE. G o d bless y o u , m y sweetheart, y o u don't k n o w w h a t y o u ' r e talking a b o u t . — N o , I'll look about for an e n g a g e m e n t in a variety theater a n d sing to people about m y misfortunes with the Jungfrau shares. That sort of thing alw a y s g o e s d o w n well. KADIDJA. But y o u have no voice, Mama. MAGELONE. Yes, that's true. KADIDJA. Take m e with y o u to the variety theater. MAGELONE. NO, it breaks m y heart! But if it cannot be otherwise, if it is so ordained for y o u , then I can do nothing to c h a n g e it!—We can g o to the O l y m p i a Hall tomorrow. KADIDJA. O h , Mama! I'm so h a p p y !

48 Wedekind 52, pp. 275f.

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T h e Lulu Plays and the Libretto 66

Berg eliminates this dialogue entirely. The Mother revives, and leaning on the Fifteen-year-old Girl for support, silently leaves with her. But merely by replacing the name "Kadidja" with the designation "Fifteen-year-old Girl," the composer makes his own ironic comment on the Mother's earlier concern for the preservation of her child's innocence. Near the beginning of the same scene we learned that the age of fifteen was a turning point in Lulu's life. Refusing to be sold to the "Etablissement" in Cairo, she says to the Marquis: "Life in such a house could never make a woman like me happy. I might have liked it when I was fifteen." Berg now recapitulates the musical setting of Lulu's great statement of self-awareness and justification in Act II, Das Lied der Lulu, her chief solo in the entire opera (see above, II/i r-s), as a setting for the following lines: "[But then] luckily I was in hospital for three months without even seeing a man. And in that time my eyes were opened and I saw myself for what I was. Night after night in my dreams I saw the man for whom I was created and who was created for me. So when I was let loose among men again I was no longer a silly goose. Since then I can tell in the pitch dark at a distance of a hundred feet whether a man is made for me or not. And if I sin against my knowledge I feel myself next day soiled in body and soul." 49 In the process of converting Wedekind's drama into a libretto, Berg has managed to eliminate some inconsistencies in the original. Lulu, about to go into the street for the first time, reflects on her situation in a statement that seems entirely out of character: "Is there a sadder sight in the world than a fille de joie?"50 Berg gives these words to Aiwa, who fits them in cozily with his other literary generalizations. For the sake of the very effective scene with Dr. Hilti, Wedekind causes Schigolch to behave in an altogether improbable manner when he has him hide Alwa's body in Lulu's room, where her next customer is certain to be "put off by him"—the very eventuality that Schigolch says he wants to avoid as he tries in vain to revive Aiwa. Why would Schigolch not hide the body in his cubbyhole, as Berg has him do? Both men have used this as a hiding-place throughout the scene, and now Schigolch will not have to crowd into it with him, as the old man is about to leave for the pub downstairs. A few nice touches are lost, of course. In the opera we are given no presentiment of Schigolch's departure. In the final act of the play Schigolch mentions a craving for Christmas pudding several times, a craving that he hopes to satisfy in the pub downstairs. "I have a feeling I shall not grow much older in these lodgings," he says, just before Lulu makes her first expedition into the street. "I have had no sensation in my toes for months. Towards midnight I shall have a drink or two in the public-house downstairs. The landlady told me yesterday that I had good prospects of becoming her lover."51 These utterly prosaic remarks, like so many others, hint at the supernatural, in their suggestion of Schigolch's foreknowledge that Lulu's earthly destiny has almost run its course and of the imminent fate of his three companions. Stylistically, the most remarkable transformation is in Berg's treatment of the salon scene. By exclusively using the onstage connection between dining room and gaming room for the movements of the en49 Ibid., p. 251.

50 Ibid., p. 280.

5 1 Ibid., p. 279.

The L u l u Plays a n d the Libretto

semble from one to the other and by eliminating some casual incidents in which Lulu does not figure, the composer has converted the deliberately confused milling about of the play into structured motion that is almost balletic in its formal design. Berg's great success in transforming the two plays into a libretto should not lead one to underestimate the difficulties of this task, difficulties which, as we know from his letter to Schoenberg, it was "torture" to resolve and which were resolved only in the course of composition. The problems may be summed up as follows: (1) the reduction of two lengthy and exceedingly complicated plays into a coherent and consistent text of manageable dimensions, without "destroying Wedekind's idiomatic characteristics in the process"; (2) the conversion of Wedekind's characters, above all Lulu, into musically definable personalities; (3) the adaptation and emendation of the original dramatic conception in accordance with the transformation of the chief dramatis personae that their musical characterization would inevitably entail. The non-verbal symbols of Berg's music add new dimensions to the mythic aspect of Wedekind's masterpiece. The structural symmetries within which the characters are bound in the play, and which give them an almost puppetlike helplessness that mocks their supposedly willed behavior, are clarified and strengthened in the operatic version. Berg has transformed Wedekind's Lulu plays into a work that is simultaneously more complex and more coherent, a supreme masterpiece of the lyric theater.

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3

THE FORMAL D E S I G N

In his article, "A Word about Wozzeck,'n Alban Berg modestly dissociated himself from the enthusiasts w h o had hailed the work as a new solution to the perennial problem of operatic form. By 1925, w h e n Wozzeck w a s performed for the first time, it was clear that Debussy's masterpiece, which had been similarly received, w a s destined to remain an isolated achievement rather than the foundation of a postWagnerian reform of the musical theater. The one feature of the n e w work that led the critics to add Berg's name to the long list, beginning with Monteverdi, of "reformers" of the opera w a s its exploitation of musical forms traditionally identified with "absolute" music. Thus each act could be regarded as a cyclical structure (Act I: Five Character Pieces; Act II: S y m p h o n y in Five Movements; Act III: Five Inventions), and each scene as a movement within that structure. Though Berg admitted that "in one sense, the use of these forms in the opera, especially to such an extent, was unusual, even new," he offered as the raison d'être for this novel conception of operatic design not general principles but the special problem of basing an opera on " a selection from twenty-six loosely constructed, partly fragmentary scenes by Biichner." " I never entertained the idea of reforming the artistic structure of the opera through Wozzeck," he wrote. "Neither w h e n I started nor w h e n I completed this work did I consider it a model for further operatic efforts, whoever the composer might be. I never assumed or expected that Wozzeck should in this sense become the basis of a school." A study of the structure of Lulu makes it clear that Berg's disparagement of the significance attributed to his utilization of self-contained forms in Wozzeck is not to be taken seriously. In Lulu, as in Wozzeck, Berg "obeyed the necessity of

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1 Berg 27, MM.

T h e Formal D e s i g n

giving each scene and each accompanying piece of entr'acte music, whether prelüde, postlude, connecting link or interlude, an unmistakable aspect, a roundedoff and finished character." 2 But the dependence on self-contained forms goes much further in Lulu, where these forms are individualized to a degree that recalls the classical "number opera," an association the composer emphasized by his use of titles such as Recitativ, Canzonetta, Arietta, Lied, Duett, Arioso, Kavatine, Interludium. Berg's terminology is inconsistent not only in language but also in other respects. Compare, for example, Lulu's solo at the conclusion of Act II, Scene 1 , with Dr. Schön's solo, Das mein Lebensabend, at the beginning of the same scene: these are obviously both musical and dramatic counterparts; yet Lulu's solo is entitled Arietta, while Dr. Schön's solo has no appellation. 3 Another example is the designation 1. Kammermusik (Nonettfür Holzbläser)4 for the chamber-music episode of Act I (mm. 463-532), and simply Kammermusik, instead of 2. Kammermusik (für Kammerorchester)5 for the chamber-music episode of Act II (mm. 834-952). Everyone who knows Berg's predilection for symmetries will look, of course, for a 3. Kammermusik in Act III: perhaps the Cadenz for piano and solo violin at mm. 470-498 is intended to play this role, or the duet between Schigolch and Lulu (cf. p. 235, below). These and other inconsistencies would undoubtedly have been corrected by the composer had he survived to complete the scoring of the third act and to prepare his manuscript for publication. The overall basis of formal unification is a series of recapitulative episodes, which becomes increasingly extensive as the work progresses, until in the final scene of the opera it dominates the material completely. In this respect Lulu represents a revolutionary elaboration of Wagner's famous device, in Tristan und Isolde, of returning at the conclusion of the work to an extended musical episode of the preceding act. Berg had used recapitulations of short sections with great dramatic effect in Wozzeck (cf. the beginning of Act 1 , Scene 2, with that of Act II, Scene 5), but these are of minor significance in the overall structural plan. In Lulu this principle is vastly expanded, with the referential function of the Leitmotiv being given to formal units, including whole numbers. A n example of such a Leitsektion is "Lulu's Entrance Music." It is first heard in the Prologue as the Animal Tamer, inviting the ladies and gentlemen of the audience to come into his menagerie to look upon his "soulless creatures," introduces Lulu as the snake, "created for every abuse, to allure and to poison and seduce, to murder without leaving any trace." It is music in which Lulu still symbolizes what Berg, as a young man, had seen as the "heights of mankind," and Casti-Piani, before his fatal disillusionment in Death and the Devil, as "that ray of divine light that penetrates the dreadful 2 Ibid., p. 23. 3 Douglas Jarman reports that the title "Ballade" is assigned to this number in one of Berg's sketches (Jarman 79, p. 202). Since the composer had evidently discarded this title by the time he prepared the score, I have not felt obligated to employ it in the Indice to the opera's numbers that follows. 4 3o designated by Berg, although there are also some string passages, mainly pizzicato, as well as a few bars for piano and percussion. 5 "Chamber Orchestra" in the sense that the string section of the orchestra is represented only by soloists (2 violins, 2 violas, 2 cellos, 2 basses).

69

T h e Formal Design

70

midnight of our martyr's existence." Its first appearance in the body of the opera is in Act II, Scene i , as Lulu enters, mistress now of Dr. Schon's home, to greet her admirers—Schigolch, the Acrobat, and the Schoolboy—for whom this is "home" today since this is the day on which Dr. Schon attends to his affairs at the Stock Exchange. What can be more appropriate than the return of this same music in the following scene, when Lulu returns, after her imprisonment, to the very apartment—now belonging to the dead man's son—in which she had celebrated her greatest triumph? Her cry, "Oh, freedom!", adds a new level of significance to "Lulu's Entrance Music," when the striking melodic element that initiates this music—until now heard only in the orchestra—becomes the direct vehicle of this utterance. There is a brief reference to this Leitsektion at the conclusion of Act III, Scene 1 , when Aiwa recognizes Lulu in the Groom's clothing a moment before her escape after she has been denounced to the police by the Marquis. For her final exit with Jack, it returns as the counterpart of the music that introduced her in the Prologue, recalling at the same time, most poignantly, the cry, "Oh, freedom!" Consistent with this principle of representational numbers (as well as representational themes) in Lulu is Berg's modification of the procedure he had used so effectively in Wozzeck, of composing each act as a self-contained cyclical structure. In Lulu a single large form dominates within each act but is not musically coextensive with that act, functioning, rather, as the most characteristic among its numerous formal components. In Act I this role is played by a sonata-allegro movement, in Act II by a rondo, and in Act III by a theme and variations. The subdivisions of the formal structure that dominates within the act are distributed throughout that act and separated by independent formal units. Thus, the Exposition of the Rondo of Act II is separated from the Middle Division of the Rondo by 664 measures that are formally independent of the Rondo, and brief independent episodes intervene between segments of the Exposition as well. With the simple deletion of these interruptions the Rondo emerges, in the symphonic suite which Berg based upon the opera, as a continuous, self-contained movement; progenitors of this aspect of the work are Schoenberg's First Quartet and First Chamber Symphony. This dominant formal component of each act represents its dominant dramatic idea. Thus the Sonata movement of Act I represents Dr. Schon's struggle to break with his mistress, and his inability, specifically symbolized by the Closing Theme, to do so; the Rondo of Act II represents Alwa's passionate attachment to Lulu; the Theme and Variations of Act III represents the nadir of Lulu's career, when she has descended to the life of a streetwalker. The complete variation movement is presented twice, its subdivisions occurring not only in interrupted sequence in Act III but in a continuous statement as well, as the Interlude between the two scenes of Act III. The opera as a whole comprises two "parts," each consisting of one complete act and half of another. Thus the division into three acts is secondary, the primary formal break being marked not by an intermission, as are the breaks be-

The Formal Design tween the acts, but by an Interlude between the two scenes of Act II. The true "finales" of the work occur at the conclusion of each "part," rather than at the conclusion of each act. The measure of Berg's achievement begins to be comprehended when it is realized not only that in Lulu the differentiation of lesser formal units has a dramatic and musical relevance comparable to that of the finest examples of the classical repertory, but that these units are at the same time components of larger formal divisions revealing an architectonic mastery of large-scale relationships comparable only to the most impressive achievements of Wagner, Strauss, and Schoenberg. Lulu, a most significant development of formal conceptions found in Tristan und Isolde and Wozzeck, is at the same time an example of "number opera." It is possible that Berg, had he lived to prepare his work for publication, might even have paid his respects to the classical opera by supplying the traditional lndice following the title page. As a guide to the formal design I have prepared such an lndice, using Italian and English titles only, and supplying missing titles wherever it seems appropriate to do so. (Bracketed letters refer to the original drama as outlined in the preceding chapter and identify for each component of the musical design the corresponding component of the play. The title and main subdivisions of the dominant formal structure within each act are given in capital letters.)

Part One (Erdgeist) No. 1. Prologue (mm. 1-85). ACT I , S C E N E 1

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

Recitative (mm. 86-131) [a-b]. Introduction, Canon, and Coda (mm. 132-195) [c-d]. Melodrama (mm. 196-257) [d—e]. Canzonetta (mm. 258-283) [e-f]. Recitative (mm. 284-304) [f-g]. Duet (mm. 305-321) [g-h]. Arioso (mm. 329-350) [h-i]. ACT I , I N T E R L U D E ( S C E N E S

No. 9. (Mm. 351-413). ACT I, SCENE 2

No. 10. Duettino (mm. 416-457) [a-b]. No. 11. Chamber Music I (mm. 463-530) [b-c].

L/2)

71

T h e Formal Design

72

N o . 1 2 . SONATA: EXPOSITION [ d - e ] .

Principal Theme (mm. 533-553). Bridge (mm. 554-586).

Subordinate Theme: Gavotte and Musette (mm. 587-614). Closing Theme (mm. 615-624). REPRISE

Principal Theme and Bridge (mm. 625-649). Subordinate Theme (mm. 650-665). Closing Theme (mm. 666-668). No. 13. Monoritmica (mm. 669-957)® [ e _ f]ACT I, I N T E R L U D E ( S C E N E S 2 / 3 ) N o . 14. ( M m . 958-992). ACT I, S C E N E 3

No. 15. Ragtime (mm. 992-1020) [a-b]. No. 16. Andante (mm. 1020-1040) [c-d]. No. 17. English Waltz (mm. 1040-1094) [d-e]. No. 18. Recitative (mm. 1 0 9 5 - 1 1 1 2 ) [ e - f ]

No. 19. Chorale (mm. 1 1 1 3 - 1 1 5 4 ) [f-g]. No. 20. Introduction and Sextet (mm. 1155-1208) [g-h]. N o . 2 1 . SONATA: DEVELOPMENT ( m m . 1 2 0 9 - 1 2 8 8 ) [ h - i ] .

RECAPITULATION [i-j].

Principal Theme (mm. 1289-1298). Bridge (mm. 1299-1303).

Subordinate Theme (mm. 1304-1355). Closing Theme (mm. 1356-1361). ACT II, S C E N E 1

No. No. No. No.

22. 23. 24. 25.

Recitative (mm. 1-39) [a-b]. Arietta (mm. 40-60) [b-c]. Cavatina (mm. 61-88) [c-d]. Ensemble: Principal Section (mm. 94-172) [e-f]. Canon (mm. 173-194) [f-g]. Recitative (mm. 195-200) [g-h]. Recapitulation (mm. 201-242) [h-i]. Nos. 26-31. Finale (a collective designation for Nos. 26 through 31 not given by Berg, but justified by the dramatic and musical character of mm. 243 to the conclusion of Act II, Scene 1. Measures 243-337 comprise segments of a RONDO alternating in turn with two restatements of the Chorale Theme of No. 19 and with segments of the Tumultuoso; 6 Measure 956 is erroneously numbered "955" in the original edition of the vocal score, p. 119.

The Formal Design

No. 26.

No. 27. No. 28. No. 29.

No. 30. No. 31.

mm. 338-604 comprise in turn a portion of the Tumultuoso, the Intraduction and two strophes of the Aria, another portion of the Tumultuoso, the third and fourth strophes of the Aria, the complete Lied der Lulu, the concluding strophe of the Aria, and the conclusion of the Tumultuoso; the scene concludes with the uninterrupted Arietta, mm. 620-651. The titles "Chorale," "Tumultuoso," "Introduction," "Aria," "Lied der Lulu," and "Arietta" are found in the score; the title "Rondo," missing in the opera, was given by Berg to the first movement of the Lulu Suite, mm. 9-70 of which comprise the segments, played without interruption, of that portion of the RONDO which is found in this, the concluding scene of Part One, and the remainder of which consists of the four concluding numbers of the opening scene of Part Two, that is, the MIDDLE DIVISION and RECAPITULATION of the RONDO, the Musette, and the Hymn.). RONDO: EXPOSITION [i-j]. Principal Theme, Part 1 (mm. 243-249). Bridge Theme (mm. 262-267). Subordinate Theme (mm. 268-273, 275-280). Principal Theme, Part 2 (mm. 281-286, 298-306). Transition (mm. 306-309). Concluding Theme (mm. 318-328). Codetta (mm. 329-336). Chorale Theme (cf. No. 19, mm. 1113-1122): First Restatement (mm. 250-261). Second Restatement (mm. 287-297). Tumultuoso (mm. 274, 294, 310-317, 338-379 [k-1], 416-420 [o-p], 553-604 [t-u]). Grave and Transition (mm. 605-619) [u-v]. Introduction and Aria: Introduction (mm. 380-386) [1-m]. First Strophe (mm. 387-400) [m-n]. Second Strophe (mm. 401-415) [n-o]. Third Strophe (mm. 421-441) [p-q]. Fourth Strophe (mm. 442-490) [q-r]. Fifth Strophe (mm. 539-552) [s-t]. Lied der Lulu (mm. 491-538) [r-s]. Arietta (mm. 620-651) [v-w]. ACT I I , I N T E R L U D E

No. 32. Ostinato: Curtain Music (mm. 652-655). Film Music, first half (mm. 656-687). A silent film is played, representing Lulu's arrest, her commitment for trial, the trial, and her imprisonment.

73

The Formal Design

74

Part Two (Die Buchse der Pandora) Film Music, second half (mm. 687-718). The retrograde of the first half of the Film Music is played, to accompany the second half of the silent film, representing events analogous to those shown in the first half of the film, but in reverse sequence—Lulu's removal from prison because of illness, the medical examination, her commitment to the isolation ward of the hospital, and finally her release (maneuvered through her impersonation of Countess Geschwitz, who, as we learn in the following scene, had allowed herself to become infected with cholera in order to make Lulu's escape possible). Curtain Music (mm. 719-721). ACT 11, SCENE 2

No. No. No. No.

33. 34. 35. 36.

Recitative (mm. 722-787) [a-b]. Largo (mm. 788-814) [c-d]. Chamber Music II (mm. 834-952) [e—f]. Melodrama (mm. 953-1000) [f—g].

N o . 3 7 . RONDO: MIDDLE DIVISION [ g - h ] .

Subordinate Theme, reprise, framed by beginning and conclusion of Lulu's Entrance Music (mm. 1001-1015). Contrasting Section: a. First episode, based on Picture Chords 7 (mm. 1016-1029). b. Second episode, based on Lulu's Entrance Music (mm. 1030-1037).

Concluding Theme, variation (mm. 1038-1047). Codetta (mm. 1048-1058). N o . 3 8 . RONDO: RECAPITULATION [ h - i ] .

Principal Theme, Part 1, with canon (mm. 1059-1065). Bridge Theme (mm. 1065-1068). Principal Theme, Part 2 (mm. 1069-1074). Concluding Theme (mm. 1075-1079). Coda, based on Lulu's Entrance Music (mm. 1080-1087). No. 39. Musette (mm. 1087-1096) [i-j]. No. 40. Hymn (mm. 1097-1150) [j-k]. ACT HI, SCENE 1

No. 41. Introduction and Ensemble I [a-b]: A. Circus Music: a. Prelude and Curtain Music (mm. 1-13). b. ( M m . 14-25). 7 Compare Examples 76-80.

The Formal Design

No. 42. No. 43.

No. 44.

No. 45. No. 46. No. 47. No. 48. No. 49.

B. Ostinato (mm. 26-38). C. Circus Music (mm. 39-52). Melodrama (mm. 53-82) [b-c]. Duet I, Concertante Chorale Variations [c-d]: Variation 1 (mm. 83-88). Episode 1: English Waltz (mm. 89-98). Variation 2 (mm. 99-102). Episode 2: The Procurer's Song8 (mm. 103-118), VARIATION I. Appassionato (mm. 119-124). Lied der Lulu (mm. 125-145). Variation 3 (mm. 146-149). Episode 3: Quasi recitative (mm. 150-153). Variation 4 (mm. 154-157). Episode 4: English Waltz (mm. 158-171). The Procurer's Song (mm. 172-175). Appassionato (mm. 176-181). Variation 5 (mm. 182-187). Variation 6 (mm. 188-191). Variation 7, Canon (mm. 192-199). Variation 8 (mm. 200-207). Variation 9 (mm. 208-215). Variation 10 (mm. 216-223). Variation 11 (mm. 224-227). Variation 12, Stretta (mm. 228-230). Ensemble II [d—e]: A. Circus Music: a. Refrain (mm. 231-243). b. "Alle Welt gewinnt" (mm. 244-252). B. Contrasting Section (mm. 253-261). C. Refrain (mm. 261-294).9 Duet II (mm. 294-352) [e-f]. Pantomime (mm. 353-369) [g-h]. Duet III (mm. 370-469) [h-i]. Cadenza for solo violin and piano10 (mm. 470-498) [i-j]. Scena (mm. 499-563) [j-k]. Four types of declamation in the following sequence (the diagram, employing Berg's own term for each type, gives the bar in which a change of declamation is initiated):

8 The Procurer's Song is set to a tune composed by Wedekind himself (Ex. 140). The THEME AND VARIATIONS movement of Act III is based on this melody. 9 There is an optional cut of twenty-two bars at this point (mm. 262-284). See p. 278, below. 10 Cf. p. 69, above.

75

T h e Formal Design

76

Gesprochenes Recitative Tempo parlando Cantabile

499

i 511 518 524

532 529 527

t

1 533 540

554 550 548

545

t

4 555 557 559

Sprechstimme is used throughout the sections labeled Gesprochenes, except at m. 532, where Lulu calls out, "Martha!" Nowhere else, in either play or opera, is Countess Geschwitz's given name mentioned. At m. 563, over a fermata, there is a return to the normal speech of the preceding number. No. 50. Ensemble III [k-I]: A. Circus Music (mm. 564-597). B. Ostinato (mm. 598-607). C. Circus Music: a. Transition (mm. 608-613). b. "Alle Welt verliert" (mm. 614-622). D. Contrasting Section (mm. 623-633). E. Circus Music (mm. 633-651). No. 51. Melodrama (mm. 652-673) [1-m]. No. 52. Recitative (mm. 674-692) [m-n]. ACT I I I ,

No. 53. Four

INTERLUDE

on the tune of the Procurer's Song (mm. 693-736).

VARIATIONS

ACT I I I , S C E N E 2

No. 54. Scena I: A. Melodrama, Part 1: THEME (Barrel Organ Music) (mm. 737-75 2 ) [a-b]. B. Melodrama, Part 2 (mm. 753-767) [b—c]. C. Lulu and the Professor, 1st entrance (mm. 768-823) [c—d]. No. 55. Scena II: A. Melodrama, Part 1: THEME (Barrel Organ Music) (mm. 824-842) [d-e], B. Melodrama, Part 2 (mm. 843-849) [e-f]. C. Lulu and the Professor, 2nd entrance (mm. 850-869) [f-g]. No. 56. Transition (mm. 870-887) [g-h]. No. 57. Quartet (mm. 888 [960H1006] 1023) [h-i]. (VARIATION IV, mm. 1008-1016). No. 58. Scena III: A. VARIATION 11 (mm. 1024-1047) [i—j]. B. Melodrama (mm. 1048-1057) [j-k]. C. Lulu and the Negro (mm. 1058-1109) [k-1]. No. 59. Scena IV and Finale: A. VARIATION HI (mm. 1 1 1 0 - 1 1 2 2 ) [1-m].

T h e Formal D e s i g n

B. Transition (mm. 1 1 2 3 - 1 1 4 5 ) [m-n], C. Sostenuto (mm. 1146-1187) [n-o]. D. Lulu and Jack: Adagio, Part 1 (mm. 1188-1234) [o-p]. E. Adagio, Part 2 (mm. 1235-1278) [p—q]. F. Notturno (mm. 1279-1291) [q-r], G. Largo (mm. 1294-1314) [s—t]. H. Grave (mm. 1315-1326) [t-u]. The following list of Leitsektionen shows the formal units that are significantly repeated, except where the unit and its recapitulation are components of a single number only or of the dominant formal structure of the act only.

Part One PROLOGUE

No. 1 , mm. 9-16: Circus Music. No. 1 , mm. 44-62: Lulu's Entrance Music. A C T I, S C E N E 1

No. No. No. No.

3, 5, 6, 7,

mm. mm. mm. mm.

No. No. No. No. No.

10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

156-185: 258-283: 284-292: 305-313:

Canon. Canzonetta. Recitative. Duet. A C T 1, S C E N E 2

mm. mm. mm. mm. mm.

417-426: Duettino. 489—492, 507—521: Chamber Music I. 615-624: S O N A T A EXPOSITION, Closing Theme. 669-689, 728-742, 773-798, 853-874: Monoritmica. 958-980: Interlude. A C T 1, S C E N E 3

No. No. No. No. No.

15, 16, 17, 19, 21,

mm. 1005-1015: Ragtime. mm. 1027-1037: Andante. mm. 1040-1054: English Waltz. mm. 1 1 1 3 - 1 1 2 2 : Chorale. mm. 1327-1333: S O N A T A R E C A P I T U L A T I O N , Musette. ACT 11, SCENE 1

No. No. No. No. No.

23, 24, 25, 25, 26,

mm. mm. mm. mm. mm.

48-53: Arietta. (60) 61-72: Cavatina. 94-120: Ensemble. 173-194: Ensemble (Canon). 318-325: RONDO EXPOSITION, Concluding Theme.

77

T h e Formal D e s i g n

78

No. 30, mm. 491-507, 533-537: Lied der Lulu. No. 3 1 , mm. 625-646: Arietta. ACT I I , S C E N E 2

No. 38, mm. 1059-1069: RONDO RECAPITULATION. No. 40, mm. 1 1 0 2 - 1 1 1 1 , 1 1 3 1 - 1 1 4 5 : Hymn. ACT I I I , S C E N E 1

No. 41, mm. 24-46: Ensemble I. No. 43, mm. 1 0 3 - 1 1 8 : VARIATION 1. No. 44, mm. 244-261: Ensemble II. ACT I I I , I N T E R L U D E

No. 53, mm. 709-719: No. 53, mm. 720-729: No. 53, mm. 730-736:

VARIATION II. VARIATION III. VARIATION IV. ACT H I , S C E N E 2

No. 54, mm. 737-752:

THEME

of the

VARIATIONS

(Barrel Organ Music).

The recapitulative design is primarily determined by the assignment of multiple roles to individual performers. The overall structural plan hinges on the three dramatically essential doublings: the Medical Specialist and the Professor, the Painter and the Negro, Dr. Schon and Jack. The first of each pair represents one of Lulu's three victims in the first half of the opera, and corresponding to each victim is one of the three clients whom she brings in from the street in the final scene—their avengers, in a sense, whose victim she becomes. Each of these three entrances in the final scene reintroduces extended musical episodes originally associated with the corresponding alternate role in Part One. The triple role of Prince-Manservant-Marquis is motivated by the economics of the stage production rather than by essentially dramatic considerations. The music that is given to the Prince in Act I, Scene 3, mm. 1 1 1 3 - 1 1 2 2 , is paraphrased for the appearances of the Manservant in Act II, Scene 1 , mm. 250-261 and 287-297. The relative insignificance of these minor characters is confirmed by the musical anonymity thus conferred upon them. The third role assigned to the same singer, that of the Marquis, is far more important. His "Concertante Chorale Variations" (III, mm. 82130) is based on musical material derived from the same Leitsektion, but it is not a restatement of the latter. In the Prologue the Animal Tamer invites the ladies and gentlemen of the audience, "Ihr stolzen Herrn, Ihr lebenslust'gen Frauen," to enter his menagerie; at the rise of the curtain on Act III the same performer, in the role of the Acrobat, invites "Meine Herrn und Damen" of the salon to drink a toast to Lulu under her assumed name, "Countess Adelaide d'Oubra." There is an almost literal repetition of mm. 9 - 1 6 of the Prologue in the initial bars of Act III, and the same music returns for each of the three ensembles of III/1. 11 1 1 The appellation "Circus Music" for this Leitsektion is taken from Redlich 57b, p. 193.

The Formal Design

Lulu's Entrance Music, discussed above, is one of two special Leitsektionen that embody concepts governing the work as a whole. The other is the Closing Theme of the Sonata, the first statement of which is a setting for Lulu's response to Schön's demand that she cease her visits to him. Donald Mitchell has s h o w n how Berg's music transforms the effect of this passage in the play: In Earth-Spirit (act two/3) Lulu makes a declaration of her attitude to Dr. Schön, speaking, according to the stage-directions, "in a decided tone": "If I belong to anyone in the world, I belong to you. Without you I should be—I wouldn't care to say where. Do you think I can forget a thing like that?" In the opera (act one/2), a transformation has occurred. N o longer is the statement a typically Lulu-ish recital of plain and emotionally detached facts; her words are cast in the form of a short melodrama and projected over a noble theme (one of the work's leading motives, substantially dwelt upon in the adagio) which symbolizes Lulu's affection for Dr. Schön. . . . The exceptional beauty of this passage leaves us in no doubt as to the depth of Lulu's love. The "love," however, w a s not originally part of Wedekind's dramatic intentions—indeed it is destructive of them—but has been introduced by the composer. 12

It is true that in Berg's setting Lulu's words are made memorable and significant. But this is entirely consistent with Lulu's special relationship to Dr. Schön, for the attachment between Dr. Schön and Lulu is not at all comparable to the casual connections that she has with her other husbands and lovers in the opera (casual only on her part, of course). Lulu's determination to become Dr. Schön's wife, her refusal to relinquish the hold she has on him, begins long before the curtain rises on the first scene of the play. "It w a s after the death of m y wife, w h e n I became acquainted with my present fiancée," Dr. Schön tells the Painter. " S h e came between us. She got it into her head to become m y w i f e . " The Closing Theme of the Sonata represents not only Lulu's " l o v e " for Dr. Schön, but also his inability to free himself from a relationship that threatens to engulf this powerful public figure in a scandal that will destroy him. "Twice have I f o u n d you a husband," he exclaims. "You live in luxury. Your husband owes his present position to me. If that's not enough for you, and if he continues to remain ignorant of your behavior, please leave me out of it." The Closing Theme returns with the Reprise of the Sonata Exposition, as the Painter enters to ask w h y Schön and Lulu are quarreling. Instead of a tender statement of the theme in the muted strings, as before, w e now have a forte statement in strings, horns, and trombone, as Dr. Schön says to himself, "I've got to tell him! I must have m y hands free, once and for all!" Instead of taking his wife in hand as Dr. Schön had hoped, the Painter commits suicide. A s Dr. Schön goes to the door to admit the police at the conclusion of the scene, Lulu says to him, "You shall still marry me!", and as the curtain falls the Interlude between Scenes 2 and 3 begins, an extended development of the Closing Theme, symbolizing the continuing attachment between Dr. Schön and Lulu. There is a final return of the Closing Theme at the conclusion of the Sonata Recapitulation, as Dr. Schön completes the letter he has written at Lulu's dictation, breaking off his engagement to his fiancée. Until this moment this unforget12 Mitchell 54, MR. The quotation and parts of the following discussion are taken from Perle 64c, MR.

79

T h e Formal Design

80

table melodic phrase has been heard only in the orchestra; this time it is a setting for Dr. Schön's cry, as the curtain falls on A c t I: " N o w comes the execution." In the following scene it serves as a Leitmotiv, independently of the Leitsektion of which it has always been part until now. In the domestic episode at the beginning of A c t II, Scene 1, there is the following dialogue: LULU. You didn't marry me. SCHÖN. W h o m , then, did I marry? LULU. I — I m a r r i e d y o u .

SCHÖN. W h a t does that change? LULU. A great deal, I f e a r — b u t not one thing. SCHÖN. A n d that i s — ? LULU. Your love for me.

These last four words, "Your love for m e , " are sung to the same tune as Schön's " N o w comes the execution" at the close of the preceding scene. It is again heard in the vocal line as he cries out, "You, m y inexorable fate!", a moment before handing her his revolver with the demand that she shoot herself, and once more in his anguished cry after her casual suggestion that he divorce her, " I — d i v o r c e you!", and finally at her words, as she strokes the brow of the husband w h o m she has just shot, "It's all over." From this point on nothing more is heard of this theme until its return near the end of the final scene, with the entrance of Schön's double, Jack the Ripper. Music that has not been heard since Dr. Schön's death, and that in the course of the opera has come to symbolize not only Lulu's "love" for Dr. Schön and his inability to free himself of that "love," but also the fatal consequences of that "love" ( " N o w comes the execution"), n o w returns in an almost literal recapitulation of the Interlude between Scenes 2 and 3 of A c t I. This time it serves as a fatally ironic setting for the following dialogue: LULU. W h y are y o u staring at m e like that? JACK. I sized y o u u p from the w a y y o u walk. I said to myself, that one's got a g o o d figure. LULU. H o w could y o u tell? JACK. I even saw that y o u h a d a pretty mouth. But I've only got this piece of silver o n me. LULU. W h a t does it matter. G i v e it to me! JACK. But you'll have to give half of it back, so I can take the b u s in the morning. LULU. I have n o change. JACK. Have a g o o d look. G o through y o u r pockets. LULU

(holds out her hand). This is all I have.

JACK. G i v e it to m e !

LULU. I'll change it in the morning and give y o u half of it. JACK. N O ! LULU

Give m e the w h o l e thing.

(gives it to him). For G o d ' s sake! But come n o w ! (She takes the lamp.)

JACK. We don't need a light. T h e m o o n is shining. LULU (puts the lamp down). A s y o u w i s h .

T h e Formal D e s i g n

Lulu approaches Jack and embraces him, as the musical development of the Closing Theme of the Sonata merges into Lulu's Entrance Music: "I'm so fond of you. Don't let me beg any longer!" He follows her into the inner room. Other Leitsektionen point up correspondences between different dramatic situations. Thus the two duets between Schigolch and Lulu, Nos. n and 47, share portions of the same music, and the Principal Theme of the Rondo of Act II, Alwa's "love music," is anticipated in the Andante of Act I, Scene 3, where Aiwa attends Lulu in her dressing-room at the theater. Lulu's refusal to accept the "position" that the Marquis has found for her and her plea to him not to carry out his threat to hand her over to the police recapitulate the Arietta of Act II, Scene 1 , in which she directed the same plea to Aiwa after killing his father. The great aria of self-awareness, the Lied der Lulu, which she addresses to Dr. Schon in Act II, Scene 1 , is recapitulated in her defense against the Marquis's plan to sell her into white slavery. Exposed by the Marquis, Lulu escapes only an instant before the police arrive to seize her. As the curtain falls on the first scene of Act III, the orchestra breaks into the first variation of the final Interlude, the music we heard in the Procurer's song, in which the Marquis had described to Lulu the advantages of a life of prostitution in a high-class brothel in Cairo. We see what Lulu has escaped to when the curtain rises on the last scene: a life of prostitution under very different circumstances, a distinction expressed in the contrast between the orchestral timbres of the variations and that of the Theme, which only appears at the conclusion of the movement. As the curtain falls on the Paris scene the metaphor of the Circus is suddenly and brilliantly set forth in the orchestra's representation of an orchestrion—a gigantic, elaborate and enormously expensive mechanical instrument identified with circus and fairground in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century; as the curtain rises on the London garret-scene another mechanical instrument, an off-stage wheezing street-organ, takes the place of the orchestrion. The second of the two recapitulations of the Duettino of Act I, Scene 2, is motivated by the doubling of the role of the Painter with that of the Negro, Lulu's second client in the final scene. "I find you're a fine-looking man," she says to the Negro, to the same tune in which the Painter had addressed her, "I find you so charming today." The earlier recapitulation of this music in the second part of the Cavatina draws an ironic parallel between the little domestic episode of Dr. Schon and Lulu at the beginning of II/i (cf. p. 80, above) and that of the Painter and Lulu at the beginning of I/2. A s Jarman points out, there are parallels between dramatic and purely formal correspondences: "The reappearance of a large section of Act II, Scene 1 , in Act II, Scene 2, points not only the more obvious dramatic similarities between the two scenes but also their similar structural function in the design of the work as a whole, as the two scenes which flank the central palindromic Ostinato interlude." 1 3 The music of the Interlude that follows Act I, Scene 1 , formally rounds out that scene with an abbreviated da capo. At the same time, in what the composer 13 Jarman 79, p. 209.

8l

T h e Formal D e s i g n

82

has chosen to recapitulate of the preceding music, it points up the unexpectedly easy and rapid transition in the character of the Painter's relationship to Lulu and thus sets the stage for the scene of marital bliss upon which the curtain is about to rise. The recapitulation of Leitsektionen in the work as a whole is shown in the following table:

ACT I, I N T E R L U D E ( S C E N E S 1 / 2 )

No. 9. Mm. 351-361: no. 5, mm. 267-277. Mm. 367-395: no. 3, mm. 156-185. Mm. 402-408: no. 5, mm. 262-268. ACT I , I N T E R L U D E ( S C E N E S 2 / 3 )

No. 14. Mm. 958-967 and 979-988: no. 12, mm. 615-624. ACT I, SCENE 3

No. 20. Mm. 1 1 5 5 - 1 1 6 8 : no. 15, mm. 1005-1015. Mm. 1177-1188: no. 15, mm. 1005-1013. Mm. 1192-1203: no. 15, mm. 1005-1013 (retrograde). ACT I I , SCENE 1

No. 24. Mm. 73-88: no. 10, mm. 417-426. No. 25. Mm. Mm. No. 26. Mm. No. 27. Mm. No. 26. Mm. No. 27. Mm. No. 26. Mm.

145-172: 209-211, 243-249: 250-261: 281-284: 287-297: 298-301:

no. 1 , mm. 44-55, 60-62. 218-222: no. 1 , mm. 44-46, 56-60. no. 16, mm. 1027-1033. no. 19, mm. 1 1 1 3 - 1 1 2 2 . no. 16, mm. 1034-1037. no. 19, mm. 1 1 1 3 - 1 1 2 2 . no. 16, mm. 1034-1037. ACT II, SCENE 2

No. No. No. No. No.

34. 35. 35. 36. 37.

Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. No. 38. Mm. No. 39. Mm.

788-814: no. 25, mm. 94-120. 857-863: no. 1 , mm. 44-45, 49-54. 908-922: no. 25, mm. 173-194. 953-1000: no. 1 , mm. 44-59. 1001-1003: no. 1 , mm. 60-61. 1010-1015: no. 1 , mm. 60-62. 1030-1037: no. 1 , mm. 44-45, 57-59. 1080-1085: no. 1 , mm. 56-60. 1087-1093: no. 21, mm. 1327-1333. ACT I I I , SCENE 1

No. 41. Mm. 1 - 1 2 : no. 1 , mm. 9-16. No. 43. Mm. 89-98: no. 17, mm. 1041-1050.

The Formal Design

No. No.

No.

No.

Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. 44. Mm. 47. Mm. Mm. Mm. 50. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. 52. Mm.

119-124: no. 31, mm. 625-629. 125-145: no. 30, mm. 491-507, 533-537. 158-171: no. 17, mm. 1040-1054. 176-179: no. 31, mm. 625-627. 205-223: no. 31, mm. 628-646. 231-242, 261-271, 283-294: no. 1, mm. 9-16. 440-446: no. 1 1 , mm. 517-521. 447-450: no. 1 1 , mm. 489-492. 455-462: no. 1 1 , mm. 507-514. 577-582: no. 1, mm. i, 10-14. 596-609: no. 41, mm. 24-40. 614-633: no. 44, mm. 244-261. 637-642: no. 41, mm. 41-46. 643-650: no. 1, mm. 10-15. 676-678: no. 1, mm. 56-57. ACT I I I , I N T E R L U D E

No. 53. Mm. 693-708: no. 43, mm. 103-118. ACT I I I , SCENE 2

No. 54. Mm. 775-789: no. 6, mm. 284-292. Mm. 791-823: no. 5, mm. 258-283. No. 55. Mm. 827-842: no. 54, mm. 737-752. Mm. 850-869: no. 5, mm. 258-272. No. 57. Mm. 926-944: no. 26, mm. 318-325. Mm. 956-959: no. 38, mm. 1065-1069. Mm. 960-973: no. 38, mm. 1059-1065. Mm. 974-1007: no. 40, mm. 1 1 0 2 - 1 1 1 1 , 1 1 3 1 - 1 1 4 5 . Mm. 1008-1016: no. 53, mm. 730-736. Mm. 1017-1022: no. 53, mm. 730-736 (at T(9) in diminution). No. 58. Mm. 1024-1045: no. 53, mm. 709-719. Mm. 1058-1062: no. 13, mm. 669-672. Mm. 1063-1067: no. 13, mm. 685-689. Mm. 1070-1073: no. 10, mm. 417-421. Mm. 1073-1080: no. 7, mm. 305-313. Mm. 1080-1087: no. 13, mm. 773-798. Mm. 1087-1091: no. 13, mm. 728-734. Mm. 1092-1095: no. 13, mm. 676-679. Mm. 1096-1099: no. 13, mm. 739-742. Mm. 1102-1108: no. 13, mm. 853-874. No. 59. Mm. 1 1 1 0 - 1 1 1 9 : no. 53, mm. 725-729, 720-724. Mm. 1193-1199: no. 12, mm. 615-619. Mm. 1200-1211: no. 24, mm. 61-72. Mm. 1211-1220: no. 23, mm. 40-53. Mm. 1219-1229: no. 24, mm. 60-72.

83

The Formal D e s i g n

84

Mm. 1235-1261: no. 14, mm. 958-980. Mm. 1266-1275: no. 1 , mm. 56-62. Though Lulu is "still young" in years when she escapes from prison ("Ich bin noch jung/' she cries out to Aiwa after killing his father, pleading with him not to turn her over to the police), the culminating episode of her life, her marriage to Dr. Schön, is behind her. She is no longer "young," for she has crossed that threshold in time beyond which every present action and thought derives its quality from memory and the past. The remainder of her life, everything that she is to experience in the second of the two Lulu-plays, is a recherche du temps perdu, and this will be reflected in the music of Part Two of the opera. 14 "How this reminds one of old times!" she says, upon her return from prison to the home she had shared with Dr. Schön. A déjà vu atmosphere, suggested throughout the opera, increasingly prevails in the final scene, until "the staged events seem to be accompanied by a shadow of themselves in which the first half of the opera, culminating and concluding in the death of Dr. Schön, is reenacted in a nightmarish distortion" (p. 60, above). This, above all, is the meaning of the recapitulative design of Lulu. If a comprehensive discussion of formal components is impossible apart from a comparable consideration of the drama, so is it dependent on an understanding of the musical language of the opera. It is a subject, therefore, to which we will revert in the following chapter. In the meantime it is worth noting, for the historical record, that in Lulu Berg anticipated by some fifteen years Stravinsky's return to certain formal conventions of classical opera, and that as a "number opera" Lulu is probably the unique example of a work whose "numbers" are settings of prose, rather than poetic, texts. 14 "It was not for nothing that Berg especially cared for Proust, probably his last great literary experience after Kafka" (Adorno 36, 23, p. 22).

4

THE M U S I C A L L A N G U A G E OF

LULU

Berg's twelve-tone practice as represented in Lulu and in the works that precede it, though historically derived from Schoenberg's concept of twelve-tone composition, must be distinguished from the latter in several fundamental respects. 1. Lulu is based not on one twelve-tone set but on many, in violation of Schoenberg's stated principle that a single twelve-tone set ought to govern all the tone relations of a given work. 2. Some of these sets are, like the characteristic Schoenbergian "tone row," defined by the order of the notes, but others ("tropes") are exclusively or primarily defined by their segmental content. 3. Even where Berg uses a Schoenbergian type of set, that is, a series, he exploits this in a manner that is basically different from Schoenberg's. The Schoenbergian series is an invariant intervallic structure that is assumed to retain its identity regardless of its direction (prime, inversion, retrograde, retrograde-inversion) and that remains independent of the explicit linear contour of any given compositional statement of the series. In Lulu, however, a characteristic melodic contour is a dominant attribute of the series. This characteristic contour may be modified or ignored in given instances, but in general it remains a fundamental attribute of the series in spite of the frequent octave displacement of individual notes or segments. This contour is in some instances assumed to retain its identity w h e n it is inverted, but never w h e n it is reversed. Berg, therefore, does not employ his series in the retrograde or retrograde-inversion, except in those rare instances where a special musical metaphor or pun is intended, or where the total musical

85

Pitch Organization

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

86

complex is reversed, as in the Sextet of Act I, Scene 3, or the Interlude between the two scenes of Act II. 1 4. For Schoenberg and Webern the twelve-tone series is always an integral structure, and it implies a music in which there is a constant and equivalent circulation of the totality of pitch classes. (The concept of such a music, or at least a tendency toward this concept, pre-dates the "twelve-tone system" by many years. Webern traced his intuitive approach to the dodecaphonic concept back to one of his earliest compositions, the Bagatelles of 1911/13: "In my sketchbook I wrote out the chromatic scale and crossed off the individual notes. Why? Because I had convinced myself, 'This note has been there a l r e a d y . ' . . . In short, a rule of law emerged: until all twelve notes have occurred, none of them may occur again.") 2 In Lulu, however, episodes that are governed by a strict twelve-tone texture alternate with episodes that are not; dodecaphonic thematic and harmonic elements are combined and juxtaposed with elements that are non-dodecaphonic; motives originally derived through twelve-tone operations may recur independently of such operations; segments of a twelve-tone set may be employed independently of the set as a whole. 5. It is, above all, the harmonic character of Berg's music that distinguishes it from the twelve-tone music of other composers. With Schoenberg and Webern every pitch of a work, whatever its function in a given melodic or harmonic complex, is derived from a single twelve-tone series. In Lulu, harmonic formations derived from various twelve-tone sets are components of a pervasive harmonic texture to which the sets themselves are subordinate and which comprises nondodecaphonic elements as well. How far this texture departs from that of other twelve-tone music is suggested in the character of the outer voices, and especially of the bass line, whose linearity and directed motion imply a significant affiliation to traditional tonal music in spite of the radical difference in harmonic content. 3 Elsewhere I have discussed the special problem of atonality in general and twelve-tone composition in particular, the problem of "defining the 'thematic' material and differentiating it from secondary and transitional material without the benefit of the articulative procedures of tonality" 4 and of distinguishing between the "theme" and its frame of reference where the series itself, in its literal transformations and transpositions, serves as both. 5 Berg's twelve-tone practice in Lulu presents a personal solution to this problem. The Basic Cells, Series, and Tropes serve as themes and motives in themselves and as the source of derived themes and motives; at the same time their interrelations with one another and 1 In the first movement of the Lyric Suite P and I set forms are respectively indistinguishable from their tritone-transposed retrogrades, because of the symmetrical structure of the series. R and RI are likewise eliminated as independent transformations in the Violin Concerto, where (Ex. 243) P n is equivalent to RI n + 4 (cyclically permuted to commence on its fourth note), and, correspondingly, In is equivalent to R n + S (cyclically permuted to commence on its fourth note). Since cyclic permutation is another feature that characteristically differentiates Berg's twelve-tone practice from that of Schoenberg and Webern, the occasional unpermuted R and RI forms in the Violin Concerto may all be interpreted as cyclically permuted I and P forms. 2 Webern 63, p. 51. 3 Cf. Volume I, p. 163. 4 Perle 81a, p. 9. 5 Perle 52, MR, p. 281.

The Musical Language

with other components of the total musical fabric generate a pervasive harmonic context, a frame of reference within which themes and motives move and act. THE BASIC CELLS A N D DERIVED TROPES

A general definition of the term basic cell is given in the chapter entitled " 'Free' Atonality" in m y book, Serial Composition and Atonality:6 The integrative element is often a minute intervallic cell, which may be expanded through the permutation of its components, or through the free combination of its various transpositions, or through association with independent details. It may operate as a kind of microcosmic set of fixed intervallic content, statable either as a chord or as a melodic figure or as a combination of both. Its components may be fixed with regard to order, in which event it is employed, like the twelve-tone set, in its literal transformations: prime, inversion, retrograde, and retrograde-inversion. (Where it is stated as a simultaneity the order is not generally defined, so that only "prime" and "inversion" are meaningful terms.) Individual notes may function as pivotal elements, to permit overlapping statements of a basic cell or the linking of two or more basic cells. In the present instance w e are concerned only w i t h basic cells of a salient thematic character. The three principal Basic Cells of the w o r k are stated in the opening bars of the Prologue (Ex. 28). These cells represent the staged world of Example 28 Basic Cell I

Basic Cell II

"

11

^

^

Basic Cell III

'

11

i

Lulu's drama: they are a musical counterpart to the physical boundaries that frame that staged world, and they are a symbol of the enchantment and fatality that attend its protagonist. The principal Basic Cells serve as curtain music: the Prologue opens and closes with all three Basic Cells; Basic Cell I marks the conclusion of A c t I, Basic Cells I and III the conclusion of A c t II; the first curtain of A c t III rises and the last curtain falls on Basic Cell II; the second act Interlude, "Begleitmusik z u einem Film," a musical palindrome marking the end of the first half and the beginning of the second half of the opera, opens and closes w i t h Basic Cells I and II and is marked at its midpoint b y Basic Cells I and III; the third-act Interlude begins with Basic Cell II. The discovery of the Painter's corpse is accompanied b y Basic Cells I and III, the murder of Dr. Schon b y Basic Cell II, the death of A i w a b y Basic Cell I, the entrance of Jack the Ripper b y Basic Cell I, the murders of Lulu and Countess Geschwitz b y Basic Cell I. Lulu's last utterance as Jack raises his knife to strike her is spoken to the same transposition of Basic Cell I that w a s assigned to her w o r d s as she rushed out into the street earlier in the same scene: "Ich bring mich um. Ich halt's hier nicht mehr a u s " ("I'll kill myself. I can't bear it here any longer"). Basic Cell I is the symbol of Lulu's seductive charm in the music 6 Perle 81a, pp. 9f.

87

The Musical Language

88

that accompanies the little domestic episode w i t h the Painter at the b e g i n n i n g of A c t I, Scene 2, a n d in the recapitulation of this music in the corresponding episode w i t h Dr. Schön in A c t II, Scene 1. " D u bist ja mein!" ("You b e l o n g to me!"), exclaims the Painter in the first of these episodes, to the ascending f o r m of Basic Cell I; "Alles L ü g e ! " ("Everything a lie!") he cries, near the conclusion of the same scene, shortly before his suicide, to the d e s c e n d i n g f o r m of the same motive. T h e return of the latter version of Basic Cell I, at the identical transposition in the f o l l o w i n g scene, is characteristic in its grim irony: it is heard in the solo cello against the w o r d s of Lulu's n e w suitor, the Prince: "Als Gattin wird sie einen M a n n über alles glücklich m a c h e n " ("As his w i f e she will m a k e s o m e m a n supremely h a p p y " ) . Its inherent structural properties m a k e Basic Cell I particularly suitable for the signal role assigned to it b y Berg. T h o u g h it almost invariably a p p e a r s in the f o r m illustrated in Example 28 or in the retrograde ( = inversion) of the s a m e , w h a t ever permutation w e m a y choose will partition itself into t w o identical, or complementary, intervals (Ex. 29). Unlike the "basic cell" in general, as d e f i n e d in the Example 29 II, mm. 568ff. Dr. Schön

.

tjy" Al

Al

II, mm. 600ff. Dr. Schön

Nein,

III, mm.

.

Nein!

nein!

Nein!

179f.

'

sper-ren

1 zu

las-sen!

Dann e r - l a u

-

be,

daß

ich

den

above quotation from Serial Composition and Atonality, its harmonic implications m a y be described apart from a n y specific compositional context. T h e same tetrachord plays a fundamental role in m a n y other post-diatonic c o m p o s i t i o n s — a m o n g them Bartok's Fourth Quartet, Webern's S y m p h o n y , O p . 21, and the fourth of Webern's Five M o v e m e n t s for String Quartet, O p . 5 / T h e structural functions of Basic Cell I derive from its divisibility into t w o tritones: T h e interval c o u p l e of t w o tritones eliminates tritone transpositions as i n d e p e n d e n t f o r m s , since the tritone is its o w n T(6) transposition. A n y g i v e n transposition of the cell will intersect w i t h a n y other transposition t h r o u g h a s h a r e d tritone, or n o t at all. Successive intersecting transpositions will g e n e r a t e a p r o g r e s s i o n that m a y b e interpreted as u n f o l d i n g a l o n g a n Interval 7 (or 5) cycle . . . or a n Interval-i (or 11) cycle 7 Perle 77a, pp. l l f . and 14; Perle 81a, pp. vii f.

The Musical L a n g u a g e

[Ex. 30]. Successive transpositions by [Interval 4 (or 8)] generate the twelve-tone trope illustrated in [Ex. 31] a n d are equivalent to successive transpositions b y [Interval 10 (or 2)]. 8

Since the segmental content of Trope I is self-invertible and is duplicated under every T(n + 2) transposition, it generates only two non-equivalent set forms, rather than the forty-eight of the twelve-tone series in general. Example 31a shows Trope I at its principal pitch-level. Example 30

Example 31

m Trope I

A second trope is derived from Basic Cell III. Since the latter is self-invertible and statable at only three independent pitch-levels, each of which is represented in the trope, only a single form of Trope II is generated (Ex. 32). Example 32 T r o p e II

&

'1

1

tfl

1

Jl»i

^

A third trope consists of two transpositions of Basic Cell I separated by Interval 3 or 9 and the residue, a "diminished 7th" chord (Basic Cell III) (Ex. 33). Trope III will generate three non-equivalent set forms. Thus each of the three tropes derived from Basic Cells I and/or III has restricted transpositional possibilities, and each is invertible without revision of its 8 Perle 77a, p. 167.

89

The Musical Language

90

Example 33 T r o p e III

w

segmental pitch-class content. These limitations give the three derived tropes their signal and salient character and distinguish them from all the other twelvetone sets of the opera. The dramatic and formal functions assigned to them are the same as those assigned to the Basic Cells. The Prologue opens with Trope I followed by Trope II, and concludes with the reversed sequence of the same tropes; Lulu's Todesschrei in the Finale of Act III is marked by Trope I, stated as a simultaneity; Tropes II and III accompany the discovery of the Painter's corpse (Ex. 34). In the Film Music, Trope III represents the closing of the door of the prison cell upon Lulu after her conviction for the murder of Dr. Schon (mm. 680682), her imprisonment (m. 687), and the opening of the door of her cell (mm. 692-694) for her removal to the hospital and her subsequent escape. The climax of the duet between Lulu and the Marquis in Act III, Scene 1 , is marked by Trope I, representing the dramatic keynote of the scene—Lulu's refusal to accept the role of a professional prostitute. The vocal line (Ex. 35), the culmination of Lulu's appeal to the Marquis, w h o threatens to betray her to the police if she does not accede to his demand, is almost identical with that of mm. 634-644 of the concluding number of Act II, Scene 1 , in which Lulu pleads with A i w a not to hand her over to the police for the murder of his father. Example 34 I , mm.

TROPE II

TROPE III

833-842

mm.

843-852

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

Example

35

91

III, mm. 211ff.

1r A - ber ich kann nicht f

p

fen,

was_

r

h r das Ein f

ir?r

f ^ l ^ H p

mein

Ei

É È ge

ver -

kau

n

gen

Basic Cell IV (Ex. 36) combines the perfect fourth, the primary interval of the work as a whole, with Basic Cell III, the only one of the Basic Cells that lacks that interval. Basic Cell IV serves primarily as a cadential detail, appearing initially in the Prologue at mm. 42-43 as the Animal Trainer, standing before the curtain, calls upon a stagehand to bring in Lulu, "our snake," and returning at mm. 66-67 a s she is removed "to her place" in the "menagerie" behind the curtain. The same cell is a component of the concluding bars of each of the three acts (Act I, mm. 1359-1360; Act II, m. 1144 and, overlapping with statements of Basic Cell I, mm. 1147-1148; Act III, mm. 1321-1322). Appearing at the exact midpoint of the Film Music, Basic Cell IV serves as both the concluding element of Part One and the initial element of Part Two of the opera. Example

36

Basic Cell IV

I

—

What we will call the Signal Motive, a perfect fourth invariably stated at the same transposition and characteristically represented in a special timbre and octave register (Ex. 37), is a Leitmotiv which is assigned its most literal signification in Act I, Scene 2. The setting is the elegant drawing-room of Lulu and the Painter. Example

Q P * ^

—

yj

V*

Vi>iT»an}-inno Vibraphone

The musical and dramatic structure of the scene is marked by four successive entrances—Schigolch, Dr. Schon, Aiwa, the police—each signalized by the Signal Motive in its characteristic timbre and register, along with the ringing of the doorbell. 9 In the following scene, backstage at the theater where Lulu is performing as a dancer, the Signal Motive still represents an entrance, but it is now Lulu's entrance upon a fictional stage behind the scene, to which she is called by an electric 9 The score is not always clear in respect to the "actual" sound of the doorbell. Sometimes the electric bell is specifically called for along with the triangle; sometimes only the triangle is specified, accompanied by the direction "es lautet."

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

92

bell above the door of her dressing room. Thus for us, the "real" audience, the Leitmotiv is now the signal for an exit. In Act II, Scene 1 , the Leitmotiv, unaccompanied by the ringing of a doorbell, is associated with unannounced and secret entrances. It is sounded in the vibraphone at the moment of Countess Geschwitz's furtive return immediately after Dr. Schön's exit with Lulu, and again as she hides upon hearing the approach of Lulu's other secret visitors, Schigolch, the Acrobat, and the Schoolboy. The scene ends, as did Act I, Scene 2, with the Signal Motive and the ringing of the doorbell to announce the arrival of the police. In Part Two of the opera the Signal Motive becomes a Leitmotiv of reminiscence. After Lulu's return from prison her "every present action and thought derives its quality from memory and the past." 10 When the Schoolboy calls on Aiwa in Act II, Scene 2, to propose a plan for Lulu's escape, there is a knock at the door rather than a ringing of the doorbell. The Leitmotiv returns for the first time when Lulu is at last alone with Aiwa in the apartment she shared with his father. "Das erinnert an vergangene Zeiten" ("This brings back old times"), she says, as he offers her a liqueur, and in the orchestra there is an echo of the Signal Motive and of the repeated chord that marked the close of the first act and the beginning of the second. The Leitmotiv returns a second time, wie aus der Ferne (as from a distance), just before her closing words at the conclusion of the act: "Ist das noch der Divan, auf dem sich Dein Vater verblutet hat?" ("Isn't that the same sofa on which your father bled to death?") In Act III, Scene 1 , the Marquis threatens to denounce Lulu to the police. "Ich brauche nur den Polizisten, der unten an der Ecke steht, heraufzupfeifen; dann hab' ich tausend Mark verdient" ("I only need to whistle for the policeman who's standing down there at the corner, and I'll have earned a thousand marks"). Against these words we hear the combination of Basic Cell IV and the Signal Motive that accompanied the ringing of the doorbell by the police after the Painter's suicide and that marked the midpoint, representing Lulu's imprisonment, of the Film Music between the two parts of the opera. The essential attribute of the Signal Motive is its fixed transposition. Its other characteristics—the chime-like timbre of the vibraphone, the ring of the triangle and/or the doorbell, the specific octave register—define the Signal Motive only in its most literal signification, as at the successive entrances in Act I, Scene 2, and the stagebell's signal at the conclusion of Act I. When its meaning is extended or shifted through association or metaphor, as in the other instances cited above, one or all of these secondary attributes will be absent. At its first occurrence the Leitmotiv is assigned one of these shifted significations. "Mich ruft leider der Pflicht, gnädige Frau" ("Unfortunately, duty calls me, Madam"), says Aiwa, as he is about to leave the Painter's studio with his father in the opening scene. The Signal Motive is softly sounded, but only in the piano, and an octave above its normal register. Other such non-literal references to the Signal Motive occur in I/i at the movement of the doorlatch as the Medical Specialist tries to enter the Painter's studio (m. 195); in I/3 just before Dr. Schön enters Lulu's dressing room and, in a retrograde statement of the same music, when he dismisses the other 10 See p. 84, above.

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e characters so that he may be alone with her (mm. 1 1 6 9 - 1 1 7 6 and 1204-1208); in the same scene at Lulu's reference to the stagebell (mm. 1233L) and again at Dr. Schon's (m. 1258); in II/i as Countess Geschwitz rises to leave (mm. 33L) and at the Manservant's entrance to announce "Dr. Schon" (mm. 223-225); in III/i at the Groom's admission of Schigolch (mm. 367-382), the departure of the guests after learning of their financial ruin (mm. 652^, 665-668, 672L), the hasty entrance of Lulu and the Groom, each disguised in the other's clothes (m. 674), and the Marquis's discovery that it is the Groom, not Lulu, whom the plainclothes police officer is about to seize (m. 691); and finally in III/2 as Jack follows Lulu into her room and is heard barring the door from the inside (mm. 1275-1277). Since the Signal Motive is fixed in pitch and recurs at formally strategic and dramatically crucial moments, it acquires a referential function in terms of its absolute pitch-class content, usually as a component, and thus determining the pitch level, of one or another Basic Cell. Basic Cell I (Ex. 28) is subjected to a T(4/ 10) transposition and Basic Cell II (Ex. 28) to a T(2) transposition to accommodate the Signal Motive, while Basic Cell IV at its primary pitch-level (Ex. 36) already combines Basic Cell III and the Signal Motive. The a)>-d\> of the Signal Motive does not establish the basic "tonality" of the work as a whole, but it is the prevailing, recurrent tone-center. It marks the turning point of the drama, the period of Lulu's imprisonment that separates the two Wedekind plays, punctuated by a fermata at the midpoint of the Film Music, and it determines the pitch level of the principal Leitsektion of the opera, the music that represents the indissoluble tie that binds Lulu and Dr. Schon (Ex. 38). Example 38 1 1 I, mm. 956ff.

THE BASIC SERIES

The Basic Series (Ex. 39) pervades the opera as a whole and may be said to represent Lulu's universe in a general sense, as opposed to the special sets identified with her role as temptress (Ex. 81), with her portrait (Ex. 76b), and with the abstract qualities of enchantment and fatality embodied in her person (the Basic Cells [Ex. 28] and the tropes derived from Basic Cells I and III [Exx. 31-33]). Like the three derived tropes, it is a set whose special structure particularly fits it for 1 1 See Chapter 3, note 6.

93

The Musical Language

94

Example 39 Basic Series, P

I ft A

g

Mf—*

m

*

""

Jfr

fr

19

.

-

•

•

b

p.

""

11

1!'

^

i»

•

t'

it.

t'

the primary and pervasive role assigned to it. Corresponding hexachords of Pn and I n + 9 have the same pitch-class content; the tritone transposition interchanges the content of the two hexachords. The primary hexachordal pitch-class content is established by the P0 form of the Basic Series. Transposition by a perfect fifth will revise the pitch-class content of each hexachord through the replacement of a single element by its tritone, since the pitch-class content is equivalent to a sixnote segment of the cycle of fifths (Ex. 40). Thus a transposition of P0 (Ex. 39) to the fifth above interchanges b and /between the two hexachordal collections, and a transposition to the fifth below interchanges b\> and e (Ex. 41). Though there is no rigorous system of set-form alignment, as in the music of Schoenberg, 12 the hexachordal structure of the Basic Series plays an essential role in establishing referential pitch-levels and differentiated harmonic areas. The fact that the Basic Series is, with one exception, the only strictly serial set in the opera whose P and 12 Perle 81a, pp. 96ff.

Example 40

M: •

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.

' Example 41

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=

1"

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T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

I forms are employed as structurally equivalent complementary aspects of the series is an indication of the compositional relevance, for this work, of the equivalence of hexachordal content between different set-forms that characterizes this series. 13 (The one exception is Lulu's Series [Ex. 81]. This, however, serves primarily as a melodic Leitmotiv, not as a source of segmental pitch-class collections.) T H E C H A R A C T E R S OF T H E D R A M A A N D T H E I R R E P R E S E N T A T I V E S E T S

Most of the twelve-tone sets in Lulu are associated with specific persons of the drama. Their function is twofold: generation of representative twelve-tone themes, analogous in a sense to Wagnerian Leitmotive; and generation of distinctive harmonic and melodic elements that together create a characteristic musical idiom for each of the chief persons of the drama, a procedure suggestive of such traditional operatic devices as the use of certain keys or musical styles for this purpose. The chief serial sets of the opera, after the Basic Series, represent Dr. Schon, the man of power and money, and his son Aiwa, the creative artist and composer. Alwa's dependence on his father is a symbol of the dependence of art, for its very existence, on power and money. The principal set forms of Dr. Schon's Series and Alwa's Series are shown in Example 42. Corresponding trichordal segments of the two series commence with the same pitch-class. In Act II, Scene 1 , the fatherson relationship is represented musically in the juxtaposition of the initial major and minor triads of the respective sets and in the dependence of Alwa's Series on Dr. Schon's for its fourth, seventh, and tenth notes, as Dr. Schon eavesdrops on his son's confession of love for Lulu (Ex. 43). 13 The Basic Series is the only "all-combinatorial" totally ordered twelve-tone set in the opera. Cf. Perle 81a, pp. 97ff. and 136f.

Example

42

Example

43

Dr. Schon's Series, P.

I

Alwa's 1 Series, P.4 \

mm f

II, mm. 34If. Dr. Schon's Series, P.

mm

Alwa's Series, P,i

ii_

f U U «r

95

The Musical Language 96

Alwa's Series is almost exclusively employed in its prime aspect; P9 establishes a subordinate referential pitch-level, secondary in importance only to P4. Each set form is maximally invariant with the principal referential form of the Basic Series as to hexachordal content, in that corresponding hexachords of the respective set forms have five notes in common (Ex. 44). (The associated hexachords, in other words, can share no more than this number, regardless of the respective transpositional levels of the two set forms.) Although the inversional aspect of Dr. Schon's Series is clearly subordinate to the prime, it is the former rather than the latter that is associated with the principal referential forms of the Basic Series and Alwa's Series, as well as with other, nonserial, sets. Since Dr. Schon's Series and Alwa's Series are inversionally related in terms of their unordered hexachordal content (cf. Exx. 45 and 42), the hexachordal content of a given prime of either series will be identical with the hexachordal content of an inversional form of the other series (Ex. 46). Example

44

Alwa's Series, P.

Basic Series, P

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•

Iw Example

u

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1

45

b.

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Ik Example Dr. Schon's Series, I„

46

ik

The Musical L a n g u a g e

Since Dr. Schon's Series at I9 and Alwa's Series at P4 are identical as to hexachordal content, the former has the same invariant relationship to the Basic Series as the latter (Ex. 44). Example 47 discloses, in the common trichordal content of the two set forms, a still closer identity between the respective series of father and son. Example

1 t? /

47

Dr. Schon's Series,, I- g

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-

l w a , s

r

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p

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r i

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1

The twelve-tone system gave Berg new and subtler opportunities to indulge the predilection for hidden musical metaphors that we noted in our study of Wbzzeck (Volume I, pp. 124ft.). In Act I, Scene 2, mm. 8o8ff., we come upon a statement of the twelve tones that appears to have no relation to any other set in Lulu. Against a four-note chord in the orchestra, Aiwa states the eight remaining notes (Ex. 48). The seeming irrelevance of their order reflects the text at this point: "In der Redaktion weiss keiner, was er schreiben soli!" ("No one at the newspaper office knows what to write!"). But a more subtle musical reading of the text is concealed beneath the surface arbitrariness of the twelve-tone ordering. Ignorance of "what to write" is really represented here in the choice of rigorous twelvetone procedures that are artificial and contrived, and inconsistent with the general compositional techniques of the work—especially when applied to Alwa's Series. Two different forms, the inversion and the retrograde-inversion of Alwa's Series, a row which normally appears only in its prime aspect, are simultaneously unfolded in cyclic permutations at two different transpositional levels (Ex. 49).14 (The notes beamed together in Example 49 give us the chord in the orchestra; the others are Alwa's notes.) 14 The normal ordering of each set form in the example is shown by the Order Numbers 0 through 11 assigned to its twelve pitches.

Example I, mm. 808ff.

48

97

The Musical Language

98

Example '7 4

5

6

7

8

9

10

49 11

0

1

mm

2

3

7

8

9

10

11

0

1

2

3

5

«

RI.

6

4

4

5

6

7

Later in the same scene another special use of Alwa's Series similarly produces a real musical metaphor hidden beneath an apparent one. Aiwa, Lulu, and Dr. Schon are awaiting the police after the Painter's suicide. Aiwa says of him: "He had what one can only dream of." These words are set to what seems to be a distorted version of Alwa's Series (Ex. 50a), instead of the "correct" version (Ex. 50b). At first glance one assumes that the composer has avoided an exact representation of the row through arbitrary alterations of the "required" pitches, in order to produce a dreamlike version of Alwa's Series. Berg's musical metaphor is more artistic and authentic, however. In a dream the contents of the day are distorted, but nothing that is really new is brought in from "outside." So it is, too, with this dreamlike version of Alwa's Series. It is not a departure from the "correct" ordering of the notes but, rather, a cyclic permutation that begins with the fourth note of the set. Example 51 shows how this cyclic permutation is made to approximate a transposition of itself. Lulu immediately brings us back to "reality." "He paid dearly for it," she says, returning to the "normal" version of Alwa's Series (Ex. 52).

é

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The Musical Language

Example 52

99

I, mm. 93if.

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Countess Geschwitz, the last of the three persons whose fate is most profoundly and tragically affected by Lulu, is represented by a set that is characterized chiefly by its segmental content. Though the Countess's set does not appear, except for a single statement in the Prologue, until the beginning of the second act, it plays a larger role than Alwa's or Dr. Schon's in defining the "tonality" of the opera as a whole. The stabilization of specific pitch-levels is as important, both musically and dramatically, in this "atonal" work as it is in Tristan und Isolde, and embraces the largest possible dimensions. Basic Cell II, at the tritone transposition of its initial statement in the opening bars of the opera, establishes the principal pitch-class collection of the work (Ex. 53). That collection is embedded in a number of sets, but above all and most characteristically in Countess Geschwitz's Trope at its principal pitch-level, P7 (Ex. 54). (The perfect-fifth segment of Countess Geschwitz's Trope frequently occurs as a pedal against the ten remaining notes. Example 53 Basic Cell II

$

Example 54 Countess Geschwitz's Trope, P^

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In assigning transposition numbers to Countess Geschwitz's Trope, w e will regard the lower element of that segment as the referential pitch.) The two pentachords frequently unfold as scales, in one or another cyclic permutation, as they do in the initial presentation of the trope in the Prologue (Ex. 55). They are also employed in a specific serial ordering, as in the opening bars of Act II (Ex. 56), the Film Music, and III/2. A s with the Basic Series, the P and I aspects of Countess Geschwitz's Trope are regarded as structurally complementary aspects of the set. P and I forms that share the same perfect-fifth segment (Pn and I n + 7 ) are frequently combined, to form what is in effect a new trope of fourteen notes(Ex. 57). Two statements of Basic Cell II are embedded in Dr. Schon's Series (Ex. 58): I 9 presents the content of Basic Cell II at its principal pitch-level; P4 presents the content of Basic Cell II at its initial pitch-level in the Prologue. In Dr. Schon's Arietta, "Das mein Lebensabend," I 9 is partitioned into two segments, of five and seven notes respectively (Ex. 59). In this w a y the relationship, through Basic Cell

The Musical Language 100

Example 55 B P p r o l o g u e , mm. 3 9 f f . 10

c

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Example 57

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II, of Dr. Schon's Series and Countess Geschwitz's Trope is projected, the Countess having made her first appearance in the opera at the beginning of the same scene, and her first exit as the orchestra introduces Dr. Schon's Arietta. Dr. Schon's words, "This, the evening of my life," and the music to which they are set (Ex. 59) foreshadow his death. The last of Lulu's five pistol shots (II, m. 555) initiates a series of repeated statements of the same five notes (Basic Cell II at R4 [see

The Musical Language footnote 56, below]). At the moment of Dr. Schon's death the same collection, equivalent to Segment C of Countess Geschwitz's Trope, is heard as the Countess unexpectedly emerges from the bedroom in which Dr. Schon had locked her. This confrontation, the dying man's last sight, is, through Berg's doubling of the role of Dr. Schon with Jack the Ripper, given a meaning in the opera that it cannot have in the original drama. At the close of the opera, as the Countess joins Lulu in death, we hear, in the last two chords, only the notes of Basic Cell II, the notes of "Das mein Lebensabend," of Dr. Schon's murder at the hands of Lulu, and of his unexpected confrontation with the Countess at the moment of his death. Example 58

Example 59 II, mm. 40f. Dr. Schön jy

Das

é

É

mein Leb-ens - a - b e n d .

Die Pest

im

Haus.

(bsn.)

Countess Geschwitz, who sacrifices everything, ultimately even her life, to her love for Lulu, a love which remains utterly unrequited to the end, has as her counterpart the Acrobat, a brutal and ignorant egotist, incapable of love but sexually "normal." The Acrobat's role as circus performer is represented by two chords, white-key and black-key tone-clusters in the piano. The first chord coincides with combined Segments A and C, the second chord with Segment B, of the P7 or I 9 forms of Countess Geschwitz's Trope (Ex. 60). The relationship between the two sets is exploited in II/2 and III/i, where Countess Geschwitz and the Acrobat confront one another directly. The Acrobat's Chords are unfolded simultaneously with Countess Geschwitz's Trope at P7 in Example 61a and at I 9 in Example 61b. Example 60 The Acrobat's Chords

Countess Geschwitz's Trope,

Countess Geschwitz's T r o p e , I g

3EÉÉ J

L

101

The Musical Language Example 61

102 II, mm. 722ff.

— 'l^Jj

1

3

'

3

1

1-3--1 ' V 1>J ^

Er läßt auf sich war-ten wie ein Ka-pell-mei-ster.

1

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p.

^^^^

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Ich be-schwö-re Sie: spre-chen Sie nicht!

1

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3

1

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—

b

The initial six-note segments of the Basic Series and of Alwa's Series at P0 and P4 respectively, their principal pitch-levels (Ex. 44), are associated through pitch-class content with the diatonic segment of the Acrobat's Chords. This connection between the Acrobat's Chords and Alwa's Series is illustrated in the dialogue between Aiwa and the Acrobat quoted in Example 62. The orchestra sustains the pentatonic segment of the Acrobat's Chords while its diatonic segment is linearly unfolded in the Acrobat's vocal part. The deletion of g from this diatonic segment reduces it to the content of the first hexachord of Alwa's Series (mm. 830831); the further deletion of d reduces it to Basic Cell II (mm. 832-833). Lulu's shadowy background is personified in Schigolch, the frail, asthmatic old beggar whom Dr. Schon identifies in I/2 as her father but who disavows this relationship in the comic ensemble number of II/i, when he confesses that he too, like everyone else, "once wanted to marry her." ("She never had a father," he replies to the Acrobat's question as to her paternity.) Only Schigolch, unaffected by the events of the drama, survives at the end, having left Lulu's garret for a drink at the pub a moment before her return from the street with her last client, Jack the Ripper. Schigolch's set is a "serial trope," i.e., it is defined by its segmental content, but each of its three segments is subjected, independently of the set as a whole, to such serial operations as will not revise the relative content of the respective segments. Schigolch's Serial Trope, a symbol of Lulu's background, is

The Musical Language Example 62

103

consistent with his primordial nature: in terms of its segmental content it is equivalent to the semitonal scale, and thus is a representation not only of L u l u ' s origins but also of the ultimate source of the tone material itself. These orderings are respectively identified as " X , " " Y , " and " Z " in E x a m p l e 63a, w h i c h s h o w s Schigolch's Serial Trope in the f o r m of its initial statement in the Prologue, m m . p33f. The inversion is s h o w n at one of its principal pitch-levels in E x a m p l e 63b. T h e illustrated P and I series are identical in terms of their segmental content. Variant series are derived through serial reordering a n d interchange of s e g m e n t s , as in Example 64a. 1 5 Since the relative pitch-content of all three partitions is the s a m e , twelve-tone configurations m a y overlap, as in E x a m p l e 64b. S e g m e n t Z is frequently e m p l o y e d contrapuntally against the remaining eight notes of the set (Ex. 65a). In Example 65b a single partition of the series is subjected to all three segmental orderings. A t Schigolch's exit in I/2, overlapping set-statements are f o r m e d b y overlapping X and Y segments (Ex. 66). 15 In designating the aspect and transposition number of set forms, we will reinterpret variant versions of Schigolch's Serial Trope to conform to the "normal" forms illustrated in Example 63.

Example 63 Schigolch's Serial T r o p e , P,

-9

m—b.

a

g-i Y

"z b

Xi

Yi

Zi

'

"

The Musical Language 104

Example 64 I , mm. 1027f -Jr

1 x"

Zri

1

Zi

I I , mm. 753ff. 0 f s

Io

L — ; — — v — « — — ¡ 7 , — — • Zi Yi

a•

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I I I , mm. 4 0 3 f f . 0 -if-

ft

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Example 65 I , mm. 475ff.

a

I I I , mm. 410ff.

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T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

Example

EXAMPLE 66

1177

JET

Xi

105

66

llYr

lIxT

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^ br [Yi

I" • 4' llXi

Schigolch's Serial Trope occurs for the first time, apart from its above-mentioned appearance in the Prologue, at Dr. Schon's reference to the Medical Specialist in the first scene. "Where is your husband?" asks Aiwa. "I see you without him today for the first time." "He never lets you out of his sight," remarks Dr. Schon. The music (mm. 1 1 2 - 1 1 4 ) , however, alludes to Schigolch, the only person who really knows Lulu, rather than to her husband, who doesn't even know her true name. Lulu's mysterious origins are similarly alluded to in the dialogue between Lulu and Aiwa at the beginning of I/3. "Do you remember how I first came into your room?" asks Lulu. "I saw something in you that stood infinitely above me," Aiwa recalls. His words are set to the variant form of Schigolch's Serial Trope illustrated in Example 64a. Indeed, mm. 1027-1037, a Leitsektion which returns in Act II as the Principal Theme of the Rondo, is permeated by Schigolch's Serial Trope, though its main melodic component is derived from Alwa's Series. Schigolch's set and its individual segments are the principal source of the bass and vocal lines, and one of the recurrent motives of the Rondo coincides with Segment Z (Ex. 67). Example

67

I , mm. 1 0 3 3 f f

The first of the three variant forms of Schigolch's Serial Trope shown in Example 64a returns in both the bass line and the vocal part at mm. 1034-10351®, when Aiwa mentions his own father 16 ("And when she [my mother] died, I went to my father [and demanded that he marry you at once]"). The same musical reference to Lulu's putative father, of whom Aiwa knows nothing, occurs in I/3, when Aiwa mentions his father's sponsorship of Lulu's career as a dancer, and it returns in the orchestra a few bars later when the Prince says, "For ten evenings I've been studying her spiritual life through her dancing" (mm. 1 1 3 5 - 1 1 3 8 ) . The "Ragtime (Trio)" of the offstage jazz band in the same scene (mm. 1005-1015) has Schigolch's Serial Trope as its subject (Ex. 68). This, too, is a Leitsektion which re16 "Und als sie dann starb, da trat ich vor meinen Vater. . . ." In the cello part, m. 1035, the fourth and sixth notes should read dk and ek. Cf. the corresponding passages (II, mm. 282,299,1070).

The Musical L a n g u a g e

106

turns in the Introduction and Sextet (No. 20) of the same scene. Perhaps this is an allusion to the reference to Lulu's one-time career as a dancer in her conversation with Schigolch in the preceding scene. "That you should call me Lulu," she says. "I haven't been called Lulu in the memory of man. And how long is it, since I've danced?" To Schigolch, Father Time himself, the only one who calls Lulu by her true name before the final scene of the opera, she is not a mystery. But when Schigolch's Serial Trope returns as a component of Alwa's music it becomes a representation of Alwa's helplessness before the mystery of Lulu and of his love for her: "There are moments when one expects to see his whole inner being disintegrate" (mm. 281-284). h, i n a musical sense, Schigolch's Serial Trope is really the basic series of the opera in that it is only a variant of the ultimate source of the tone material (the semitonal scale), it is basic in its signification as well. Though Dr. Schon's death, for example, is represented in the transformation of his series into the Basic Series of the opera (Ex. 154), his utterance at the very instant of his death is set to Schigolch's Serial Trope (Ex. 69), in the same version and at the same pitchlevel as its first appearance, in the Prologue (Ex. 63a). Example

68

I, mm. 1005f. !5 fx t

Example

r

« a - ^ r -

69

II, mm.603ff. . 3

O Gott, O

o Gott!

Der

O Gott,

ir-Jo Gott!

Teu - fel...

The Painter is associated not with a special set but with special harmonic formations derived from the Basic Series, most specifically with the series of dyads formed by simultaneous statements of its two hexachords (Ex. 70a). The partitioning of the dyadic series into three tetrachords gives rise in turn to one of the most important chord series of the opera (Ex. 70b). We will call this series the Painter's Chords, though it is employed in connection with Lulu's other victims as well and, eventually, with Lulu's own victimization.

The Musical Language

107

Example 70

i

b

a

p, 5

.10

;

0

h

1

\>i 2

Il

^ 3

The Painter's Chords, P

i

Y

5

Z

Neither of the derived sets illustrated in Example 70 is as explicit in its representational connotations as are most of the other sets associated with specific persons of the drama. Of the three sets associated with the Painter (Exx. 70a, 70b, 76b), only Example 70a is found in the Animal Tamer's roll-call of the animals in his menagerie. It appears, however, not in connection with the Animal Tamer's reference to a camel (see p. 62, above), but as accompaniment to a disdainful allusion to the domesticated animals of the conventional, as opposed to Wedekind's, drama: "House-pets, w h o feel so well-bred, w h o satisfy their little spites in vegetarian w a y s and revel in a comfortable tear, like those others d o w n there in the Parterre." 1 7 Cf. Lulu's complaint of the Painter's banal domesticity in I/2, introduced at m. 553 by Example 70a at the same transposition, P5: "Er sieht nichts; er sieht mich nicht und sich nicht. Er ist blind. Er kennt mich gar nicht. Was bin ich ihm? Er nennt mich Schätzchen und kleines Vögelchen. Ich bin ihm nichts als Weib!" ("He sees nothing. He doesn't see me and he doesn't see himself. He is blind. He doesn't know me at all. What am I to him? He calls me 'little treasure' and Tittle bird.' I'm nothing but his woman!"). Each of the three chords in Example 70b is strongly characterized harmonically. Chord X contains an augmented triad, Chord Y a diminished triad, and Chord Z (a chord of the "French 6th" type) two tritones. The harmonic quality of the Painter's Chords is only fortuitously dependent on the Basic Series. It derives, rather, from the relation of the chord series to the two whole-tone collections (Ex. 71), a relation that is explicitly unfolded in the opening scene as Lulu and the Painter gaze upon the corpse of Lulu's husband (Ex. 72). Chords X and Z are selfinvertible (i.e., each may be inverted at a given pitch-level without alteration of its pitch-class content), and Chord Z is self-transposable as well (i.e., it may be transposed at the tritone without revision of its pitch-class content). Each is, therefore, ambiguous as a representative of a given set-form: Example 70b is the Ps f o r m of the Painter's Chords, 1 8 but Chord X of P5 may also be interpreted as representing I 5 , and Chord Z as representing P n , I 3 , and I 9 . The compositional exploitation of these ambiguities is illustrated in Example 73. The initial statement of the Painter's Chords is a signal marking the moment the Painter is left alone with Lulu in the opening scene (Ex. 74a), and signal-like 1 7 Haustiere, die so wohlgesittet fühlen, A n blasser Pflanzenkost ihr Mütchen kühlen U n d schwelgen in behaglichem Geplärr, Wie jene a n d e r n — u n t e n im Parterre. 1 8 T h e set-form designation refers to the Basic Series.

The Musical Language 108

Example 7 1

Example 72 P

I , mm. 2 8 4 f f .

5 rx

H s

m Vé

m

>

Example 73

EXAMPLE 73 I , mm.

329-334

g

X(P5)

In7

pY(P5)

r

V.

I , mm.

II,

Y(Ig)

1107-1109

mm.f524f.

Z(I9/Pn) X(PU)

t i i j U f Z(P5) h

y

,

iìk==él

' ^ I C i X(I9)

*

4 H

Lfcfrl

j

1 4 1

Y(Pn)

X(Pn)

Y(Pn)

. i f '

1

j)

1

f '

f

J

A m

X(I3) Y(I3)

w

Z(Puand

h &

M

I3)

The Musical Language statements frame the first line of the Lied der Lulu, in II/i, "Wenn sich die Menschen um meinetswillen umgebracht haben" ("If men have killed themselves for my sake") (Ex. 74b). The Lied der Lulu is Lulu's response to Dr. Schön's cry of rage, "Siehst Du Dein Bett mit dem Schlachtopfer darauf?" ("Do you see your bed, with the sacrificial victim on it?"). "Schlachtopfer" is marked by a striking statement of the Painter's Chords (Ex. 75 [see Chapter Six, footnote 93]), and it is this word, "sacrificial victim," which denotes the primary signification of the chord series. The Painter's Chords are a salient component of Lulu's pleas to Aiwa, at the conclusion of II/i, not to hand her over to the police, and in III/i the set is employed in connection with the victimization of Lulu by the Marquis and the Acrobat. The Painter's Chords return in connection with the projected victimization of the Acrobat (III, mm. 524-526), and with the Countess's sacrifice—her acceptance, at Lulu's request, of an assignation with the Acrobat, unaware that she is part of the plot contrived by Lulu and Schigolch to do away with him (III, mm. 545-547). A climactic statement of the Painter's Chords ironically emphasizes the Acrobat's coincidentally apposite last words, "Besteigen wir das Schaffott!" ("Let us mount the scaffold!"), as he offers the Countess his arm and leaves with her (III, mm. 559-561). Lulu's warning to Aiwa near the conclusion of III/i (mm. 679L), "In zwei Minuten kommt die Polizei! Wir sind angezeigt!" ("In two minutes the police will be here! We've been turned in!"), is uttered against converging statements of the Painter's Chords (I6 and P7). Example

II, m. 491

I, m. 131

1/1» 2

74 m. 495

^

mf

- f

Example

75

II, mm. 484f.

mf

cresc.

The principal chord-series of the opera, representing the portrait for which Lulu is sitting when the curtain rises upon the opening scene, is derived from a triadic segmentation of the Basic Series (Ex. 76).19 The referential function of the Picture Chords depends on the context. The set may represent any one or any combination of the following: the picture itself; Lulu as the subject of the picture; the Painter as the maker of the picture. The portrait and its special music are present in every scene, providing both visually and aurally an element of continuity 19 The set-form designation refers to the Basic Series.

109

The Musical L a n g u a g e

no

within the changing context of time and place of the drama. " D u bleibst Dir gleich" ("You're still the same"), the last utterance that Dr. Schön directs to Lulu, is set to Basic Cell I, but the orchestra immediately takes up the inversional form of the Picture Chords (Ex. 77). The fading of the picture in the dying man's sight is reflected in the displacement and deletion of notes from successive statements of the set. Example 76 Basic Series, P n

$

te-

The Picture Chords, P .

Example 77 II, mm .f590-592

I F

Ik

ir* rr

A n exact inversion of the characteristic prime of the Picture Chords would result in an interchange of the highest and lowest lines of the progression. They are not interchanged, however, but remain in the same respective positions, regardless of whether the set is stated in the prime or inversion. The inverted top line is equivalent to the retrograde, a P/I relation that is compositionally unfolded near the conclusion of III/i (Ex. 78). Successive T(6) transpositions, as in Example 77, generate a continuous series of alternating major and minor seconds ("octatonic scale") in the top voice. This is a striking feature of the climactic exploitation of the Picture Chords in the final scene. When the canvas that the Countess brings with her near the beginning of the scene is unrolled, a twelve-tone chord initiates four statements of the inversional form of the Picture Chords at respective T(3) transpositions (Ex. 79). A n d when the Countess falls on her knees before the portrait—just before Lulu comes in from the street with her last client—and cries out three times, "Erbarm Dich mein!" ("Have mercy on me!"), the three non-equivalent octatonic scales are linearly unfolded in contrary motion as components of P and I forms of the Picture-Chord series (Ex. 80). The three linear components of the Picture Chords are stated in succession to form what w e call Lulu's Series (Ex. 81). This tone row is exceptional in that it appears almost exclusively in a specific thematic version that is easily recognizable as one or another variant of the same Leitmotiv (Ex. 82). Lulu's Series is heard for the first time when the Animal Tamer introduces her as "unsre Schlange" ("our

The Musical L a n g u a g e

111

Example 78

Example 79 III,

ram.

913-918

T

I

^

i

hi

1 i j k M

te

^

r

T ~

Example 80 III, mm. ^

1180-1185

"9

tete

f

:

11

X

Hk-

«

I»

-w-

ttp;

TT tè

te

if

£

I

:

^

^

E b.

r*

.A

^

^

pp¡

snake"), and it is obviously intended to suggest this creature. Its signification in the work as a whole is instantly established by the Animal Tamer: "She was created to stir up trouble, to tempt, to seduce, to poison and to murder—without leaving any clues. . . . The sweet innocent—my greatest treasure!"20 The intervallic structure of Lulu's Series associates it with the diatonic, 20 Sie ward geschaffen, Unheil anzustiften, Zu locken, zu verführen, zu vergiften, Und zu morden, ohne dass es einer spürt. . . . Die süsse Unschuld—mein grössten Schatz!

The Musical Language 112

Example

81

Lulu's Series, P„ (Cf. E x . 76)

Example

82

II, mm. 419ff.

p

8

fig Du_ lei-dest

, an

-

*

itr^^^I—

I

Q

Ver-fol-gungs-wahn.

whole-tone, and triadic components of the work as a whole (Ex. 83), just as that of Schigolch's Serial Trope associates the latter with the chromatic component. The initial diatonic hexachord of the series overlaps with a five-note segment of the whole-tone cycle that resolves into the triad outlined in the last four notes. The cadential character this final four-note segment imparts to the set is exploited both formally and dramatically. (See, for example, the conclusion of the canon between the Painter and Lulu in I/i [mm. 181-185]; the conclusion of I/3 [mm. 955-957]; Lulu's return at the conclusion of Dr. Schon's Arietta in II/i [mm. 6061] and their exit together at the conclusion of the following Cavatina [mm. 8485]; Lulu's return at the conclusion of the three-part Canon of II/i [mm. 190-194]; the conclusions of the first and second strophes of Dr. Schon's Aria in II/i [mm. 399-401 and 419-421]; the Codetta of the Middle Division of the Rondo in II/2 [mm. 1048-1054]; and the conclusion of III/i [mm. 683-690]). Example

83

The Medical Specialist is represented by a series of dyads derived by sustaining two non-adjacent notes of the Basic Series and verticalizing, against this interval, its remaining two-note segments. Example 84 illustrates the two variants of this derived set, and the cyclical permutations to which they are subjected, with P 0 assumed as the set form of the original series. This derived dyadic series is employed only in connection with the paired roles of the Medical Specialist and the Banker. The Schoolboy's Series (Ex. 85) is consistently partitioned into three tetrachords, each characterized by a specific melodic contour. The three segments are significantly differentiated harmonically: the outer segments contain even intervals only, the first being limited to components of one whole-tone scale and the third being limited to components of the other; the middle segment, on the other hand, represents every odd interval-class in its adjacencies. Through the whole-

The Musical L a n g u a g e

Example 84

113

Example 85 The Schoolboy's Series, PQ

j TP X

m 7 1 pTTi

Y

Z

tone content of the outer segments, all transpositions of the series are closely related, the same whole-tone scale being shared by parallel or opposite boundary segments of any two set-forms. It is this interconnectedness among all set forms that explains why the series is so freely transposed, adjacent statements almost invariably occurring at different pitch-levels. In mm. 836-841, for example, P3, P4, P6, and P8 are joined through shared whole-tone collections (Ex. 86). (In the example, the two whole-tone collections are notationally distinguished by the type of note-head.) The passage is a coherent musical sentence in which progression, contrast, and closure are achieved through the unfolding of the two whole-tone collections. Example 86 II, m. 836

p

837

m^'Liu

838 P„

839

M

The outer segments are different distributions of the same relative pitchclass collection, Segment Z being, in content, a T ( i i ) transposition of Segment X. Thus adjacent set-forms associated through the overlapping of the Z segment of one set statement with the X segment of the next would progress by descending semitones. By cyclically permuting the series so that Segment Z precedes Segment X instead of following it, progression in the opposite direction is achieved (Ex. 87).

The Musical Language

114

Example 87 I I , ( m . 8 4 1 ) mm. 8 4 3 - 8 4 7

m—

à

%>—

i t — r T J1

i

r r HTTTL

'ft J 3 V [ J J Z

X

Y

V r n

iFH

Z

t i " —

Y

Y

Y

J

U Z

X

Pj

# r

Z

X

J

z

X

The cyclically p e r m u t e d series makes its first appearance in the Prologue, in conjunction with Lulu's Entrance Music, 2 1 and this variant of the " n o r m a l " ordering is evidently intended to reflect the text that accompanies it ("to tempt, to lead astray") (Ex. 88). This interpretation is confirmed u p o n the Schoolboy's return after Lulu's imprisonment. W h e n he i n f o r m s A i w a that he has just escaped f r o m the reformatory (mm. 843ft.), the succession of p e r m u t e d set-statements illustrated in Example 87 commences. The inversional f o r m of the series is not employed at all, except for metaphoric p u r p o s e s , as in E x a m p l e 89, w h e r e it refers to the Schoolboy's w o r d s , " I n a n y case, I'll go to the devil!" (The inversion, at T ( n ) , retrogrades the order of segments with respect to their pitch-class content.) A t m m . 903-904 one note of each segment of the P6 set f o r m (verticalized in strings and w i n d s ) is displaced w h e n the Schoolboy cries out, " D a s ist nicht w a h r ! " ("It isn't true!"), in response to the Acrobat's assertion that L u l u is d e a d (Ex. 90). Example 88 P r o l o g u e , mm. f " 4 9 f f . 1

y — Zu

1ft

J

J

j

1

— *

lok-ken,

7-,

itf ftp r 1 . zu

r

i

1

—

ver-fiih-ren,

H—- r f f F i

The Marquis appears only in Act III, Scene 1 . A p a r t f r o m this scene, the only one in w h i c h his series (Ex. 91) is u s e d extensively, and the four-bar e p i s o d e in the Prologue (mm. (Jf 2 7 - 3 1 ) in which the A n i m a l Tamer introduces the Marquis as the monkey, there are only a f e w isolated statements of the Marquis's Series. These are f o u n d at the appearance of the Prince (I/3, m m . f 1115-1118 and 1 1 3 4 1 1 3 8 ) and the M a n s e r v a n t (II/i, m m . 250-259 a n d 289-294), in reference to the assignment of these roles to the same p e r f o r m e r w h o later plays the part of the Marquis, and again in connection with the Acrobat's temporary a s s u m p t i o n of 21 The normal version of the Schoolboy's Series occurs before this, at mm. 26f., in association with the Animal Tamer's reference to the bear (the Acrobat) and the first occurrence of the Acrobat's Series. The Schoolboy's role is the only one musically referred to in the Prologue that is not specifically identified with one of the beasts.

M3=

The Musical Language

Example 89 I I , mm. P,

115

929ff.

Ir-gend-wie werd'ich nun doch wohl zum

m Teu

-

fel

gehn!

dm

I Q T

S

5

Example 90

ixjJ i^ 1 Example 91 The Marquis' Series, P_

:£=

L.

^ ^ fr '

^

¡-t.

^

I,,

'

.

:

' ("} =

the Manservant's duties as part of the conspiracy to free Lulu from prison in II/2 (mm. 878-888). The Marquis's Series coincides with the top line of an elevenchord "chorale" (Ex. 153), the "missing" note of w h i c h is usually placed at the end of the series, sometimes at the beginning, and sometimes omitted altogether. The Marquis's Series is an exclusively melodic structure. Unlike the other sets discussed above, it is not partitioned into segments that form characteristic invariant collections that may be shared b y various forms of the same set or several sets. In the number in w h i c h it chiefly occurs, the Concertante Chorale Variations of III/ 1, it is used as both an obbligato and a cantus firmus. A m o n g the " a n o n y m o u s " characters in the opera, the Acrobat has b y far the largest role. 22 He is represented not only b y his white-key and black-key toneclusters but also b y a series (Ex. 92). The latter, unlike the Acrobat's Chords, plays no role in the large-scale tonal structure of the work. Example 93 s h o w s h o w the Acrobat's C h o r d s participate with principal set forms of the Basic Series, A l w a ' s Series, Dr. Schon's Series, and Countess Geschwitz's Trope, to delineate a partitioning of the twelve pitch-classes into two harmonic areas, equivalent to a diatonic, " w h i t e - k e y " and a pentatonic, "black-key" collection. The invariance illus22 According to Jarman 78, IABSN, the sketches indicate that Berg "changed his ideas about the importance of the character of the [Acrobat] during the course of his work upon the opera and only at a relatively late stage did he decide to relegate him to the stature of a secondary character by omitting his proper name from the score."

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

ll6

Example 92

m

The Acrobat's Series, Pg

trated in Example 93 is unordered; that is, each of the five sets reorders the intersecting pitch-class collections in a different way. The Acrobat's Series, on the other hand, only intersects with other sets through common melodic segments, that is, through ordered invariance. Example 94 shows how melodic segments of P n and P n + 1 forms of the Basic Series are embedded in the Acrobat's Series. Basic Cell I may simultaneously be extracted from the first five notes of the set. The relationship between the Basic Series and the Acrobat's Series provides a basis for transposition of the latter (Ex. 95). Intersections between the Acrobat's Series and Segments Y and Z of Schigolch's Serial Trope are illustrated in Example 96. The first and second intersecting segments in Example 96 may be interchanged (Ex. 97, mm. i39f.), so that three successive three-note segments of the semitonal scale unfold. In this variant the Acrobat's Series mimics the normal structure of Schigolch's Serial Trope. The three non-adjacent remaining notes of the Acrobat's Series form a fourth intersecting segment, which is repeated as an ostinato against the other three segments (cf. Ex. 65a). The passage is framed by statements of Schigolch's Serial Trope. This relationship between the Acrobat's Series and Schigolch's Serial Trope is similarly exploited in II/2, mm. p'750-773, as Aiwa, Countess Geschwitz, and the Acrobat await Schigolch's arrival (Ex. 98). Example 93 Basic Series, P„ 0 Alwa's Series, P . ; u Dr. r , aunon's, Schôn's, Iig

|

Countess Geschwitz's Trope, P^

I

Acrobat's Chords

'

Example 94 Basic Series, Pjg

(W

' H

~

Acrobat's S e r i e s , P n

Basic S e r i e s , P^j

tt' Acrobat's S e r i e s , P

* jk

1

'

L-

|-

The Musical Language

Example

95

II7

EXAMPLE 95 II, mm. lOOff. Acrobat

SÊ

Ê Er

ist noch

zu klein f ü r

die

gro

-

ße

Welt

und

Basic Cell I Basic Cell I

mm

it ;

Hf

*T

so

weit

kann auch nicht

r

zu

FuQ

"r

gehn.

i TjJ

tv

¥

-

C T "

Basic Cell I Example

ji* Yi

I

«

tt*

tl*

1

^

«

1>«

96

^

Zi

J

Zp

zp

(k

I

I*r

»

^

p

Acrobat's Series, P,11

P Ì

fZri

^

1» Y ri

^

bJ

I?«

1,i=F=

•p

Yr

=

^

irr Yr

Ordered invariance plays an important role in the formation of incidental and immediate associations among the various sets and Basic Cells. The primacy of the basic Series derives not only from its exploitation as a means of associating and differentiating the content of various set-segments but also from the compositional delineation of elementary melodic cells that it shares with other sets. Melodic cells embedded in the first hexachord of the Basic Series and their duplica-

The Musical Language 118

Example 97 Acrobat

II, mm. 137ff.

r if t Die

Schigolch I

Die

Die Au-gen!

1

Schigolch's Serial Trope, I

Acrobat's Series, P.

I r r "r r t fr r *r j

\ ^ r ha-ben sie

ja!

4

Die Au-gen!

4

Au - gen.

seit acht

Ta

- gen um

ih - ren

Schlaf

ge-bracht.

!"r r jf

1 I,

, 4

l11 'iJ

Wir sind e r - le-digt!

Schigolch's Serial Trope, P

Example 98 I I , mm. 6 f 759ff Acrobat *

Ich h a - b e mir Tri

kots

im

zar-tes-ten

Ro

-

sa

ma-chen l a s - s e n .

I

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

tion in other sets are illustrated in Example 99. The three-note figure with which the Basic Series commences is set forth at once as a salient motive of the work in the Circus Music of the Prologue (Ex. 100). The same figure is projected a few bars later as a component of Dr. Schon's Series in the Leitmotiv of "the tiger's leap" (Ex. 101). Basic Cell II, the first three notes of which coincide with a segment of the Basic Series, is incorporated in Order Nos. 6 - 1 0 of Dr. Schon's Series literally, Example 99 Basic Series, P„

m Dr. Schon's Series, P,

m Dr. Schon's Series, P„

Alwa's Series, P„

Acrobat's Series, P„

Acrobat's Series, P 1

Countess Geschwitz's Trope, P^, and Basic Cell II

Example 100 Prologue, in. 9

Example 1 0 1 Prologue, mm. 2If.

Ji' j > "r

iS'k

119

The Musical Language 120

except for a semitonal alteration of its last note. Dr. Schön's Series is cyclically permuted so as to begin with this distorted version of Basic Cell II when, after telephoning the police to report the Painter's suicide in II/i, he says, "Jetzt kann ich mich von der Welt zurückziehen" ("Now I can withdraw from the world") (Ex. 102). These common melodic cells provide a basis not only for the association of different series but for interesting ambiguities as well. At the rise of the first curtain, for example, as Aiwa enters, we hear the first four notes of his series, with the first note sustained in the orchestra and the following three sung by Aiwa. In actuality, however, it is the Basic Series that is unfolding here, Aiwa merely taking that segment of the Basic Series that corresponds to a segment of his own series (Ex. 103). Example

102

I, mm. 938ff. Dr. Schön's Series, Ig

I « POTT?' "I ^ Cf I Jetzt kann ich

mich

von der

Example

Welt

zu-riick-ziehn.\

103

I , m. 86

In Example 94, Basic Cell I was extracted from the first five notes of the Acrobat's Series by deleting the third note of the series. In the Film Music this same method of derivation, deleting intervening notes, is employed to extract Basic Cell I from the Basic Series, Dr. Schon's Series, Alwa's Series, the Schoolboy's Series, the ordered version of Countess Geschwitz's Trope, and the Acrobat's Series (Ex. 104). (For the designation of Countess Geschwitz's Trope as I 5 , cf. Example 56; the A segment, f-b\>, is integrated into the ordered components of the set.) Each series

The Musical Language is stated as an uninterrupted succession of sixteenth-notes and imposes a specific rhythm on the derived Basic Cell. In III/2, Dr. Schon's Series, the Schoolboy's Series, Alwa's Series, and a cyclically permuted version of the Acrobat's Series are each partitioned into four three-note chords whose upper line unfolds the same segment, as to pitch content, of Schigolch's Serial Trope (Ex. 105).23 The episode concludes with a triadic version of Schigolch's Serial Trope, but in this last instance the chords are derived through the simultaneous unfolding of the three segments of the set (Ex. 106). Example

104

II, mm. 670ff.

I Basic Series, P^ I Dr. SchSn's Series, P 4

71

,

'n-—^r^SS1 .ht" f T l .

F

Schoolboy's Series, P, I Acrobat's Series, P. Example III, mm. 752-755

756-759

Dr. Schon's Series, P^ Schoolboy's Series, P ^ Example III, I , mm. l l l l l l . 770f. ( I .

'I

m

\>

ih - rem

Sie ver - k a u f - t e Blu-men

Lulu's Series, P^

The first statement of Lulu's Series after the rise of the curtain on Act I (mm. n6ff.) is preceded by an incidental twelve-tone set that is a parody of it. The two whole-tone collections are stated in succession, beginning with the five-note whole-tone segment of Lulu's Series (Ex. 111). This whole-tone version of Lulu's Series is combined with three statements of the Z segment of Schigolch's Serial Trope at one point in the dialogue between Dr. Schon and the Painter in I/2 (Ex. 112). The contrast between the semitonal and whole-tone collections emphasizes 24 Dr. Schon: "Since I've known her she has changed for the better." The Painter: "Since . . . since you've . . . since you've known her? Since when have you known her?" Dr. Schon: "Since her twelfth year." The Painter: "She didn't say anything to me about it." Dr. Schon: "She sold flowers. . . ."

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

the cross-purposes at which they speak. The normal version of Lulu's Series returns as Dr. Schon continues his description of Lulu's background. At the conclusion of the scene, the juxtaposition of the same two sets and the disguised form in which the former appears (its two hexachords are interchanged) are again a musical metaphor for the text (Ex. 113). Example

ii321

I, mm. f 952 P„

Lulu —

3

—

Es

läßt kei - ne

Spu-ren.

Dr. Schön

Das

ist

Dei- nes

Gat - ten

Blut.

Un

Lulu's Series

ge-heu-er!

Incidental twelve-tone sets are sometimes formed by overlapping cells and set segments. A n example is found at the beginning of the Film Music. The curtain at the conclusion of II/i falls to ostinato statements of Basic Cells I and II; the first chord of the Film Music that immediately follows the close of the curtain initiates a statement of Alwa's Series at P8 and consists of the three notes that are "missing" from the curtain music (Ex. 1x4). The Circus Music that introduces Act III concludes with simultaneous statements of the Basic Series at P 0 and I 1 0 . Their concluding three-note segments are reiterated as ostinati in the following ensemble; a twelve-tone configuration is completed by a six-note ostinato motive derived from the P10 form of Alwa's Series (Ex. 115). Example

i ft

, 11'

[

l'

= jI"}«—f -y-J

114

#

Countess Geschwitz's collapse when she is stabbed by Jack the Ripper coincides with the inception of a twelve-tone trope whose derivation is illustrated in Example 116. The twelve-tone chord at Lulu's Todesschrei is a vertical statement of Trope I. In the following bars, as the Countess frenziedly rattles the bolted door of Lulu's room, each cell of this set is partitioned in turn into its two component 25 Dr. Schon: "It's your husband's blood." Lulu: "It doesn't leave any marks." Dr. Schon: "Monster!" Lulu: "You'll still marry me! [Turning to the entrance door. ] Be patient, children!"

I25

The Musical Language 126

Example

115 Alwa's Series, P 10

III, mm. 23ff.

W

Basic Series, P 10 fr* 1»

. b.

Basic Series, P.

Example

116

III, mm. 1294ff. Trope I

H'

—

•

*

\>

*

,1**

m

s

Dr. Schon's Series, IJQ, IJ^, IQ

ft»

fit*

*

m. 1301

Dr. Schon's Series, P 2 > P j , P 4

JLH

fr

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

perfect fifths and repeated through ascending octave transpositions, to terminate in a single reiterated perfect fifth. Thus, in the six-note chord in which all three figures converge, the tritone components of Basic Cell I are eliminated. This chord is sustained throughout the unfolding of Dr. Schön's Series, which accompanies Jack's sudden opening of the door from the inside and his stabbing of the Countess. The tone-cluster that concludes Dr. Schön's Series in m. 1301 marks the moment of Countess Geschwitz's collapse. One of its three pitch-classes, /, is also contained in the sustained six-note chord, and this element is now deleted from the latter. The four pitches required to make up a twelve-tone aggregate are heard as Jack walks past the Countess to the basin in which he intends to wash his hands. From the instant of the Countess's collapse to the instant of Jack's arrival at the basin (mm. JTf 1301-1304^) the tone material is entirely limited to this aggregate, the twelve-tone trope illustrated in Example 117a. The latter, in the context in which it appears, recalls the principal set-form, P4, of Dr. Schön's Series, and may even be regarded as a variant of the latter (Ex. 117b), and the whole passage as a progression from the vertical statement of Trope I in m. 1294 to this variant form of Dr. Schön's Series at P4. Example

117

a

t

• .

b

•• ) • •

J

m

LEITMOTIVE

The sustained three-note segment of Example 117a is anticipated in a tremolo figure assigned to the clarinets 1 1 6 bars earlier. The Countess, kneeling before Lulu's picture, her hands clasped, is silent after her threefold cry for mercy, "Erbarm Dich mein!" Lulu, returning from the street with her last client, opens the door, and Jack steps into the room. "Who is that?" he asks. "My sister!" replies Lulu. "She's insane." "Insane?" he asks, thoughtfully. The three notes are, in this instance, derivable from an explicit statement of the principal form of Dr. Schön's Series (Ex. 118). Their tremolo representation is foreshadowed near the conclusion of Dr. Schön's Arietta, "Das mein Lebensabend" (II, mm. 54-57), in the vocal setting of his words, "Der Irrsinn hat sich meiner Vernunft schon bemächtigt" ("Insanity has already overcome my reason") and in the conjunction of semitonal trills in col legrto cellos, saxophone, and muted trombone (Ex. 119). Through the tremolo figure Dr. Schön's "Irrsinn" is identified with Jack the Ripper, his double in the final scene. 26 The Arietta thus foreshadows not only Schön's death (see pp. 26 The tremolo figure in Example 118 continues through Jack's "thoughtful" repetition after Lulu: "Insane?" This is not found in Wedekind. Berg's addition helps to point up an ironic "coincidental" reference, in the Leitmotiv here, to the Countess's "insanity." It is of course Jack, not the Countess, who is the personification of Dr. Schön's "Irrsinn."

127

The Musical Language 128

Example

118

Example

119

III, mm. f 1185ff

Dr. Schön's Series, P.

II, mm. r 53«. Dr. Schön

Der Irr - sinn

hat sich mei-ner Ver-nunft

schon be-mäch-tigt.

J

J

J

---

3

3

(vc.)

fi r

(sax.)

LRT? J

=4=

3

(tbn.)

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

ioof., above), but also the form that his revenge will take. The tremolo figure of Example 1 1 8 returns as Jack and Lulu retire to her room, leaving the Countess alone, and the same three-note segment of the semitonal scale returns for the last time, as a continuous linear figure in unison clarinets, to accompany Jack's last words and exit (mm. 1 3 1 0 - 1 3 1 4 ) . At Jack's entrance (Ex. 118) it was extracted from the P4 form of Dr. Schön's Series. At his stabbing of the Countess it occurred as the concluding element of three simultaneously unfolding statements of Dr. Schön's Series (Ex. 116). It was immediately converted, in the following bars, to a segment of the incidental twelve-tone trope illustrated in Example 117a. And in its last manifestation, as Jack takes leave of the dying Countess, it is an independent Leitmotiv, no longer a component of one or another twelve-tone aggregate. The unfolding of Dr. Schön's Series in Example 1 1 8 recapitulates the initial statement of his series in the Prologue (mm. 20-23), which introduces the Tiger, "der gewohnheitsmässig, was in den Sprung ihm läuft, hinunterschlingt" ("who routinely gulps down whatever strays within range of his leap"). The Leitmotiv of "the tiger's leap" (Ex. 120), whose melodic connection with the Basic Series was shown in Example 101, becomes the subject of a stretto in II/i, mm. 539-542, as Dr. Schön, suddenly resuming his furioso aria after Lulu's Lied, cries out, "Down, murderess," and forces Lulu to her knees. It is not heard again after his death until the entrance of Jack the Ripper. Example

120

Prologue, mm. 2Iff.

fP

- =

f

The Leitmotiv of "the tiger's leap" is a special thematic version of Dr. Schon's Series. The Arietta, "Das mein Lebensabend," in which Dr. Schon gives expression for the first time to his "Verfolgungswahn" ("delusions of persecution"), 27 immediately after Countess Geschwitz, escorted by Lulu, takes leave of him, commences with another special thematic version of his series (Ex. 59). The same passage is literally recapitulated, except for rhythmic revisions, as Jack the Ripper, taking leave of Lulu and the Countess in his own manner, washes the blood from his hands (Ex. 121). In the musico-dramatic technique of Lulu a given musical idea may be sufficiently characterized both musically and dramatically, even in a single restatement, to merit classification as a Leitmotiv, as in this instance. Lulu's Series, on the other hand, almost invariably appears in its leitmotivic form (Ex. 82). A n accepted convention of twelve-tone composition is the extraction of various melodic patterns from a given series through the retirement of melodically extraneous notes into the "background." 28 It is an essential distinction between Schoenberg's twelve-tone practice and Berg's that in the former a given motive so 27 Cf. Lulu's reference to Dr. Schon's "Verfolgungswahn" in II/l, mm. 203f. and 419f. 28 Perle 81a, pp. 67f.

129

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

130

Example

121

derived remains a component of a total twelve-tone texture whenever it occurs, whereas in the latter it is often divorced from its original or any other connection with a twelve-tone set and employed, in spite of its serial derivation, as an independent thematic element. The motive that symbolizes Lulu's childlike naïveté as she gazes upon the corpse of the Medical Specialist in the first scene of the opera ("All of a sudden, he'll jump up . . .") is originally derived from a more or less straightforward statement of the inversional form of the Basic Series (Ex. 122); the same motive returns immediately after the death of the Painter in I/2 (mm. 868871) and after the death of Dr. Schôn in II/i (mm. 6nf.), each time more remotely, if at all, related to the series. The Leitmotiv illustrated in Example 123 represents not only Lulu's "love" for Dr. Schôn and his inability to free himself from it, but also the fatal consequences of that "love." It originates as a component of the Closing Theme of the Sonata movement of Act I, in which connection it is partially derived from Dr. Schôn's Series at P8 (see Exx. 38 and 126). The same Leitmotiv returns a number of times in II/i, divorced from its original formal context and unrelated, or inconsequently related, to the series. Example

122

I, mm. 262f. Basic Series, I

fa

J> Auf

'0

TH - i

ein

-

j — r 3 4

K— 7

mal springt 5 '' ftj v. 1 .

Example

io

— v —

er - t r aKc -

123

1

auf...

, I '

11

The Musical Language

In Volume I, w e pointed out that in Wozzeck Leitmotive do not pervade the musical and dramatic texture, as they do in the mature works of Wagner: "The Leitmotiv in Wagner's operas serves two essential musical purposes that it is not required to serve in Wozzeck: the recurrence of the same salient musical details throughout a work plays a significant role in its overall unity and coherence; contrapuntal elaboration of Leitmotive is the compositional technique on which the extensive through-composed sections are based." 2 9 Wagner's practice and Berg's in Lulu are also divergent, but in the opposite direction. The basic cells and various types of twelve-tone sets of Lulu are its very tone material; they are fundamental, in a sense that the Leitmotiv is not. Yet every one of them has an explicit representational function in the drama. The preceding catalog of basic cells and twelvetone sets is thus a catalog of Leitmotive as well. But if everything is a Leitmotiv, the term itself loses its usefulness, and w e employ it here in a limited sense, as applying to special versions of twelve-tone sets, or to recurrent representational motives that are ultimately independent of, though possibly originally derived from, twelve-tone sets. Given the musico-dramatic language of the opera, it is not possible to provide a comprehensive list of such Leitmotive comparable to the catalog of Leitmotive in Wozzeck that was given in the preceding volume, and w e have merely offered a few illustrative examples of the two types to which w e assign the term in Lulu. LEITSEKTIONEN

The Leitmotiv illustrated in Example 123 derives its dramatic sense from the Leitsektion of which it is the principal thematic component, the Closing Theme of the Sonata and the extended development of this music in the Interlude between I/2 and I/3 (cf. pp. 79-81, above). The formal coherence and integrality of the Leitsektion derive from its tonal and harmonic character. The relation between its d\>a\> tone center and the fixed pitch-level of the Signal Motive was discussed above (pp. 92f.) and illustrated in Example 38. Douglas Jarman's remarks on the tonal character of the Leitsektion are worth quoting in extenso: The figure of Dr. Schon, in particular, is specifically associated with the primary tonal center of D!> major. The most unambiguous statement of this tonal center appears in the coda to Schon's Act I Sonata movement; the opening bars of this coda are shown in Example [38]. 30 A s can be seen from Example [38], both the movement of the parts and the handling of notes which would traditionally be regarded as "dissonances" follow tonal practices. Thus, the "dissonant" e in the opening D!> chord is prepared in the previous bar [m. 614 (cf. note 30)] and is treated as an appoggiatura moving to its resolution on the following, consonant /. Similarly, the dissonant a in the bass on the first beat of bar [959] of Example [38] can be regarded as an accented passing note, moving from the consonant a\> of the previous bar to the consonant b\> on the fourth quaver of bar [959]. On its first important appearance in Act I, Scene 2 (bars 615-24) the harmonic 29 Volume I, p. 94. 30 The reference is to mm. 615-617. Example 38, mm. 958ff., illustrates the return of the same music at the beginning of the following Interlude.

131

The Musical L a n g u a g e

132

structure of the first eight bars of the coda theme follows a traditional progression away from, and back to, the opening Dt triad. In the extended version of the coda which forms the orchestral interlude between Act I, Scenes 2 and 3, the range of the Dt tonal center is extended in such a way that the whole interlude has an A B A structure, the opening and closing passages in Dt major being separated by a passage not on this tonal center. Both the original coda section and the extended version of the coda which forms the interlude between Act I, Scenes 2 and 3, reappear at a number of points in the opera and always on their original D!> tonal center which thus acts as a stable and fixed reference point throughout the work. The opening thematic figuration of the coda theme appears as an independent leading motive at a number of points and, even when divorced from its original harmonic support, always does so at its original pitch level. The unambiguous Dt tonal center of the Sonata coda theme is the logical outcome of certain aspects of both the structure and Berg's handling of Schon's Series elsewhere in the opera. The first phrase of the main theme of the Sonata movement opens with Schon's Series at P8,31 at which level the first three notes form a Dl> major % chord, and ends with the notes gH and ctt, the enharmonic equivalents of a\> and d\> respectively [Ex. 124]. Schon's theme at Pe accompanies many of the most significant lines of text elsewhere in the opera. It is at this level that Schon's Series forms part of the Prince's chorale theme in Act I, Scene 3, originally appearing when Aiwa refers to his father's sponsorship of Lulu's career (bar 1119). When Lulu, having murdered Schon in Act II, Scene 1 , refers to him as "the only man I ever loved," her words are set to Schon's Series at P8. The consequent of the opening phrase of the Sonata theme also begins with the notes d\> and a\>, the notes which opened the antecedent. As can be seen from Example [125] the two notes are stated simultaneously, d\> being the opening note of Schon's Series at P„ the a\> the opening note of its inversion at I 8 . 32 The "tonic" function of the Dl> major triad with which the Closing Theme and the Interlude commence (Ex. 38) is confirmed in the chord on the last quarter of m. 958, the V f of the key of Dl>. The G minor triad in m. 959, to which Jarman calls attention, is followed by a "dominant 7th" on E. The derivation of these four 31 I have replaced Dr. Jarman's nomenclature for set forms with my own. 32 Jarman 79, pp. 94f.

Example 124 I, mm. 533f. Dr. Schon's Series, P„

T

HP! Example 125

I, mm. 535f.

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e chords from the P8 form of Dr. Schon's Series is illustrated in Example 126. Only the first is precisely equivalent to a set segment. The "missing" 3rd of the last chord, gtt, is derived from an overlapping set-statement of the Basic Series at P4. Measures 960 to the downbeat of m. 963 are derived from simultaneous statements of the Basic Series and the first eight notes of Dr. Schon's Series at P4/ the latter coinciding with components of the Basic Series as shown in Example 126. The two concluding bars of the first period, mm. 963^, are derived from the remaining notes of Dr. Schon's Series and a second statement of the P4 form of the same series. The extent to which specific harmonic purposes have priority over purely serial considerations in this music is indicated by the presence of elements that have nothing at all to do with the series: in Example 38, the neighbor-note g on the second eighth-note of m. 958 and the d and c in the bass line of mm. 959960 (passing notes between the last two notes of the series, e and b). Example

126

m. 960

Dr. Schôn's Series, P.

961

* Basic Series, P^

I, m. 958 Dr. Schon's Series, P,

w

11

Wm— 959-

\r,

"

The second period commences at m. 965 (Ex. 127) with a return to the Dt "tonality" of the opening, but merges after three bars into the contrasting middle section of the Interlude. The apparent serial components of these three bars are illustrated in Example 128. Harmonic and thematic prerequisites result in more radical departures from the series here. The d\>-a\> on the downbeat of m. 965 are this time not simply a statement of the initial dyad of the P8 form of Dr. Schon's Series, but displaced non-adjacent elements of the resumed P4 form of Dr. Schon's Series. (The bracketed notes in Example 128 are omitted from the set-statements.) The chain of "dominant 7th" chords embedded in mm. 966f. (Ex. 129) departs entirely from the series, except at its boundary components. (Notes that intersect with the series are shown in parentheses in the example.) The progression resolves to an E major triad in the three trombones on the downbeat of m. 968. The foundational chords of the middle section are a series of the twelve major triads, formed by parallel statements of the P4, P n , and P8 forms of Dr. Schon's

133

The Musical Language Example 127

134 I, mm. 965ff.

OP? ^ Example 128 m. 965 Dr. Schon's Series, P.

•J

g' a*

Basic Series, P

11

1 L"

.

968

967

966

.

r, i b« ' L^'J r.i — « «

. '

ij

Dr. Schon's Series, P .

Example 129

Series, followed by a series of the twelve minor triads, formed by parallel statements of the I 5 ,1 0 , and I8 forms of Dr. Schon's Series. Contrapuntal statements of Dr. Schon's Series are simultaneously unfolded in a stretto: P 6 ,1 8 , P4, P 0 ,1 2 , P6, P6, P0. The whole converges on Basic Cell I in two bars that are analogous to the curtain music that led into the Interlude (Ex. 38), but with the tremolo figure now transposed to the "dominant," followed by the equivalent transposition of the initial bar of the Interlude, modified to serve as a bridge to the return of the first section in its original key (Ex. 130). Example 130

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

Triadic components of the major-minor system play a still more pervasive role in Lulu's Entrance Music. If the source of the harmonic elements of the first eight bars of this Leitsektion in its first appearance (Prologue, mm. 44-62) is to be found in twelve-tone sets at all, these would seem to be harmonic tropes of the type illustrated in Examples 106-110, in which the twelve notes are partitioned into the chord-types of triadic tonality. But these tropes—if their presence is to be assumed—are used quite differently from the way they are in the above examples. They occur at a deeper structural level and unfold linearly in ways that suggest voice-leading motions of traditional tonality. In Example 108 we illustrated a trope consisting of two major and two minor triads, each paired at the interval of a tritone. In the first measure of the Leitsektion a C major triad in the bass is sustained against an appoggiatura chord that resolves into an Fit major triad (Ex. 134). This progression in the upper voices is completed by an Al> minor triad whose third is implied in the descent of the top line: b(c\>)-b\>-a\>. The notes required to complete the trope, a-f-d, occur in the inner lines of the progression, though the D minor triad as such is not present. A second progression, supported throughout by an F major triad in the bass, commences with the AI>(Gtt) minor triad, which is sustained and arpeggiated in the following two bars (mm. 46-47). A Ctt diminished triad is embedded in the arpeggiations of m. 47. The progression concludes in m. 48 with an arpeggiated augmented triad on G!>. This second trope, whose four segments include each of the triadic chord-types of the traditional tonal system, was illustrated above in Examples 106-107 and 109. A third triadic trope (two major and two minor triads, each paired at the interval of a whole step), overlapping with the second, unfolds in the following bars (Ex. 1 3 1 , mm. 48-51). A retrograde statement of Segment Z of the Schoolboy's Series introduces the whole-tone collection that forms the harmonic background of the following two bars (Ex. 1 3 1 , mm. 52ff.) ("Non-harmonic" melodic tones are marked in the example.) Four serial sets are linearly unfolded against the harmonic background described above. The first of these, Lulu's Series, is harmonically characterized by the GD minor and CD diminished triads of the second progression and the Bt major triad of the third (Ex. 132), so that we can define its non-chordal components as neighbor- or passing notes. The descending chromatic bass line of mm. 49-52 (Ex. 133) coincides with Segments X and Y of Schigolch's Serial Trope; Segment Z is freely permuted in the vocal part. (Note the first four notes of the characteristic thematic version of Lulu's Series for the words "zu verführen" ["to seduce"] and "zu vergiften" ["to poison"].) The characteristic employment of Segment Z as a contrapuntal associate of the other two segments was pointed out above (Ex. 65a). A cyclically permuted version of the Schoolboy's Series (Ex. 88) is the principal melodic component of mm. 49-62. Its final note also serves to initiate a melodic statement of the Basic Series at P7 (Ex. 1 3 1 , mm. 52f.). The Prologue is framed by what is in effect a fanfare (mm. 1-8,80-84). Douglas Jarman's table of correspondences, showing how "the precisely balanced arch structure of the Prologue to Lulu is defined by every one of its constituent musical and dramatic elements," 33 demonstrates that these enframing sections are set 33 Jarman 79, pp. 187ff.

135

The Musical Language 136

Example

131

Schoolboy's Series, P Prologue, mm. 48ff.

1 1 V

.S

r L

—

Basic Series P

7

,

-

1

- r d — - —

r - 4 — — 1 -

^ J .

r

Ì

=

r i

— i r

1

J i J j

Example

132

Prologue, mm. 46ff.

Sie

ward ge schaf-fen

Un

heil.

Example

an - zu - s t i f - ten

133

Prologue, mm. 49ff. [ Z

Zu lok-ken,

zu v e r - f u h - r e n ,

zu ver-gif

- ten

Schigolch's Serial Trope, P^

i P i

Li

J

apart from the intervening seventy-one bars by the style of vocal delivery (spoken), dramatic action (the Animal Tamer's entrance/the Animal Tamer's exit), text (the last word is the same as the first: "Hereinspaziert!"), musical material (exclusively Basic Cells I, II, and III), and tempo (J = 80-90^ = 90-80). The list may be supplemented by a further characteristic that sets the outer sections apart from the main body of the Prologue: the absence of a tonal center. In the Circus Music

The Musical Language

that adjoins the outer sections (mm. 9-16, 73-79) the priority of / is asserted by "non-functional" means, 34 and the keystone of "the precisely balanced arch structure," Lulu's Entrance Music, commences with a reassertion of this priority by functional means that convert/into the tonic root of a major triad: in the first three bars of the Leitsektion w e find the tonality of F expressed in V-I triads in the lower voices and I V - U l f 3 in the upper (Ex. 134). Tonally functional means of asserting the priority of / m e r g e into non-functional means in the following bars (Ex. 135). The bass line sustains / into m. 49, where it is transferred to the top line via the initial segment of the permuted Schoolboy's Series. In mm. 1*51-55, repetitions of the retrograde Segment Z of the Schoolboy's Series and of the last three notes of the Basic Series give/increasing prominence within a changing harmonic context. Basic Cell I serves as a bridge into the second part of Lulu's Entrance Music (mm. 56-62). Example 134 Prologue, mm. 44ff.

Example 135 Schoolboy's Series

Basic Series P„

Prologue, mm. 46ff.

The Leitsektion concludes with a return at m. 60 to the opening bars at the fourth above, but with the initial triad in the bass prefaced by its tritone counterpart (cf. Exx. 134 and 136). This time the F major triad serves as the V of B!>. Lulu's Series returns in its inverted form to round out what is in effect an arietta, a selfcontained formal component of the Prologue. In the preceding four bars there is 34 Cf. Volume I, pp. 130f.

137

The Musical L a n g u a g e

138

already a return to triadic tonality in the form of a sequentially unfolding chain of seventh chords. The figured-bass reduction in Example 137 fully represents the pitch-class content and voice-leading of mm. 56-59. Between the F major triad of Ex. 134 and the F major triad of Ex. 136 the lowest voice outlines a symmetrical progression, F-B-E-Bk-E-B-F, descending by semitonal degrees from F to B (mm. 45-53), from E to BI> (mm. 54-57) and from E to B (mm. 58-60). At first sight a serial source for mm. 56-59 (Ex. 137) seems unlikely, since the twelve-tone aggregate is completed only in m. 59. Each bar may, however, be interpreted as a harmonic unfolding of the first hexachord of the prime form of Alwa's Series (P0, P 10 , P3, Pj) or the first hexachord of the inverted form of Dr. Schon's Series (I 5 ,1 3 ,1 8 ,1 6 ) (Ex. 138). The two sections, mm. 44-45 and 56-62, are, in fact, employed as separable components of Lulu's Entrance Music, in a manner which suggests that this serial interpretation of the second section, which relates it to the roles of Aiwa and Dr. Schon, is relevant. Every reference to mm. 56-62 of the Prologue in the body of the opera except the very last relates this music to Aiwa, and the last relates it to Dr. Schon, in the person of his double, Jack the Ripper. The first restatement of the Leitsektion occurs in II/i, mm. 145-172, when Lulu arrives to greet the three admirers who have been awaiting her—Schigolch, the Acrobat, and the Schoolboy. The four bars that correspond to Example 137 are omitted here. There is a second return to the beginning of the Leitsektion at mm. 209-211, followed (mm. Example

136

Prologue, mm. 60ff.

p ^ f bp F — « f f - H F f i T

m

i r=#j bes

Example

I

mm. 56ff.

zu

ver -

stau

137

J.

ji.

,f==f

m

-

m

ehen.

The Musical Language

Example

Alwa's Series, PQ (0-5)

139

138

Dr. Schon's Series, I 5 (0-5)

-I

L

•—C

2i8ff.) b y the first restatement of the second part of Lulu's Entrance Music. A i w a is already in the w i n g s at this point, as w e learn at the Manservant's entrance to a n n o u n c e his arrival. W h e n Lulu's Entrance Music is paraphrased in the following scene (mm. 857-863) in connection with the Schoolboy's appearance, there is again n o reference to the second part of the Leitsektion. T h e complete Leitsektion returns in augmentation w h e n the convalescent Lulu, supported b y Schigolch, returns to the apartment after her escape f r o m prison. T h e second section, set apart b y a transpositional displacement, accompanies Schigolch's parting w o r d s (mm. 985ff.). Lulu, left alone w i t h A i w a , cries out, to the recapitulation of the o p e n i n g strain w i t h w h i c h the Leitsektion concludes, " O h freedom! Lord G o d in H e a v e n ! " (cf. p. 70, above). The second section of the Leitsektion returns again at m m . 1035-1037 as Lulu asks A i w a to kiss her, and at the climax of the love duet, m m . 1080-1085. L u l u has already made her physical entrance; it is the gradual recovery of her emotional and spiritual identity that is represented in these further references to this music. The t w o references to Lulu's Entrance M u s i c in A c t III are limited to the second part of the Leitsektion: m m . 56-57 return w h e n A i w a recognizes Lulu in her disguise as the G r o o m at the conclusion of Scene 1; the complete section, m m . 56-62, returns for a last time as Lulu, embracing Jack, d r a w s h i m into her room: " I ' m so f o n d of you! D o n ' t let m e b e g a n y longer!" There is a particular p o i g n a n c y in the special f o r m of this music at its last occurrence, w i t h its great melisma in the vocal part, for w e are first g i v e n this variant at the climax of Lulu's career, w h e n she entertains her admirers as mistress of Dr. Schon's h o m e (II/i, m m . 2i8ff.). A n d there is a particular irony as well, for w e h a v e this variant a second time near the conclusion of II/2 (mm. io8off.), w h e r e A i w a says to Lulu, "If it weren't for your t w o big child's e y e s I w o u l d h a v e to take y o u for the craftiest w h o r e that ever drove a m a n to ruin," a n d she replies, " W o u l d G o d that's w h a t I w e r e ! " In a letter to H a n n a Fuchs-Robettin dated D e c e m b e r 4, 1929, Berg refers to the p a s s a g e from Der Wein illustrated in Example 139: " W h o m could it h a v e to d o w i t h b u t y o u , H a n n a , w h e n I say, in 'The W i n e of the Lover': 'Sister, let u s flee side b y side, w i t h o u t rest or pause, to m y land of d r e a m s ' — a n d these w o r d s die a w a y in the most gentle B[H] major and F major chords!" Berg could hardly h a v e failed to m a k e the same connection w h e n the same chords appear (Ex. 136) in his setting of "die Urgestalt des Weibes" ("the primal f o r m of w o m a n " ) . 3 5

35 Cf. pp. 18 and 24, above. Berg's attribution of this special significance to "Urgestalt des Weibes" is confirmed in the special emphasis that marks these words in his own typescript of the working libretto for the opera (Plate 12).

The Musical Language

140

Example 139

The overall tonal structure of the Act III Interlude derives from the respective tonalities of the two strains of Wedekind's Lautenlied.36 The tune, as it appears in the duet between the Marquis and Lulu in III/i (mm. 1 0 3 - 1 1 8 ) and in Variation I of the Interlude (Ex. 140), retains the keys of Wedekind's version, C major for the first strain, A minor for the second. In Variation II the tune is repeated in canon at the tritone, with the first strain in C and G!> major and the second in A and Et minor. In Variation III it is transposed to the minor third below, A major/Fit minor. In Variation IV a second transposition to the lower minor third places the tune in Fit major/Dtt minor. A n d finally, at the rise of the curtain on the last scene, another transposition by the same interval brings us the "Thema" of the movement in the "offstage barrel organ," in Et major/C minor. 37 Thus the movement begins and ends on the same tonic, C, and the intervening keys outline a complete cycle of minor thirds. In the orchestral score the composer provides the key-signatures that conventionally represent these tonalities. The tune itself remains intact in each variation except the last, where it is subjected to numerous octave displacements (Ex. 143). 36 The "Lute Song," No. 10 of Wedekind's Lautenlieder, was presumably composed for the author's own use as a cabaret singer (see p. 37, above). Berg employs the tune without reference to Wedekind's harmonization. Wedekind's text befits the use that Berg makes of the tune in the opera. See Jarman 79, pp. 245ff. 37 The barrel-organ version of the tune is identified by Berg in the orchestral score as the "Thema" of the Variations.

Example 140 III, mm. 693ff.

The Musical Language In Variation I, the setting in which the tune is placed unambiguously confirms its tonality, in spite of certain "atonal" details in the closing bars of the variation: non-diatonic imitations of fragments of the tune (Ex. 141); a bass line that descends through a ten-note segment of the cycle of fifths in traversing the minor third a-fH (g|>), in a one-to-one alignment with a series of chromatically descending tritones (Ex. 142, mm. 705-708). At the conclusion of Variation I (Ex. 142, mm. 7o8f.) the lower voice of this progression, moving through a whole-tone cycle, arrives at the G!> tonic of the new variation, and the accompanying series of tritones, continuing its semitonal descent, arrives at the dominant of the C tonic. The bi-tonal distribution of the orchestral parts in Variation II is indicated in the orchestral score by the key-signatures, six flats for G!> major/El» minor and a large natural sign across the breadth of the staff for C major/A minor. The distribution of the tonal material into these bi-polar harmonic areas is consistent with Example 141 I I I , m . 699

mm.

703ff.

p ' Vi| 3

J J"

1—3—1

J —

-

ta Example 142 III, mm.

705ff.

L—1

J>

141

The Musical Language

142

the primary partitioning of the principal referential forms of the Basic Series and other principal sets into white-key and black-key collections (Ex. 93) and, above all, with the partitioning of the Basic Series into the tritone-related white-key and black-key hexachordal collections of the set forms illustrated in Example 39. Douglas Jarman has shown how the Wedekind tune, in Variation IV, is in fact "absorbed into a twelve-tone context" derived from the Basic Series (Ex. 143). 38 The twelve-tone character of the accompanying parts in Variation IV is implied in the orchestral score by the restriction of the key-signature to the two staves assigned to the instruments carrying the tune—the second violins and the cellos. Example 143 III, mm. 730f.

ft I '

'(» n

ft

I10

(tpt., m. 731)

H >

j. j. "

r

"

"

In Variation II the chromatic bass-line in mm. 7 1 0 - 7 1 3 and the chromatic inner voice paired with it in m. 7 1 1 are suggestive of Schigolch's Serial Trope. The triads on the tonic and supertonic degrees of El? minor with which the second strain commences in m. 7 1 5 are equivalent to the trichordal partitioning of the initial hexachord of Alwa's Series at P 10 (Ex. 144), but this "coincidental" correspondence becomes a meaningful one only later, when the same triads return on the upbeat to Variation III, the "funèbre" variation that is recapitulated with its two strains interchanged when Schigolch discovers Alwa's corpse and drags it out of sight (mm. 1 1 1 0 - 1 1 1 9 ) . Variation III, like Variation IV, is a twelve-tone episode, in which the Wedekind tune and all the accompanying parts are derived—very freely—from Alwa's Series (Ex. 145). The five-part texture is consistent throughout: the tune is assigned to the lowest voice; a quasi-omfus firmus is assigned to the middle voice for the first strain and to the upper voice for the second; the remaining parts form trichords, almost every one of which is transpositionally equivalent to one or another trichordal segment of Alwa's Series—though not necessarily derived, in their given twelve-tone context, from the set forms in which they occur as segments. The notes required for each fragment of the tune 38 Jarman 79, pp. 144£f.

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

Example 144

III, m. 715

Alwa's Series, P 10 are extracted from one or more set forms and repeated as necessary without regard to their original serial ordering. (In the serial analysis given in Example 145 the notes belonging to the tune are stemmed, the notes belonging to the cantus firmus are shown as whole-notes.) The "tonality" of the Circus Music does not depend on associations with triadic concepts of voice-leading and tonal centricity. The first two bars of the Circus Music (Prologue, mm. qi.) are exclusively limited, in the orchestra, to a symmetrical tetrachord, i.e., a tetrachord that can be partitioned into two identical intervals, f-a/c-e or, alternatively, f-c/a-e. The harmonic structure of the Leitsektion is governed by the former of these dyadic partitionings of the tetrachord, intersecting statements of which will generate successive transpositions through the Example 145

143

The Musical Language

144

Example 145

(continued)

7

i kV

hp'

• 1 1

J

^ ^L •

-

'

(etc.)

^ «J m P2

•

complete cycle of fifths (Ex. 146). The dyadic version of the Basic Series from w h i c h the Painter's C h o r d s are derived (Ex. 70) is cyclically permuted (mm. (Tuff.) so as to commence with a transposition of the initial chord of the Circus Music (Ex. 147). Example 148 illustrates the compositional unfolding of this basic cell of the Leitsektion. A serial analysis is given in Example 149. (Ties indicate w h e r e the serial ordering is interrupted because of the repetition of components of a set form.) The eight bars that precede the Circus Music are a signal, a fanfare, a prologue to the Prologue, a call to attention. The musical material of these eight bars is exclusively limited to Basic Cells I, II, and III, w h i c h represent the staged world Example

m. 11

"1 r

13

kfz

"i r

-i

J L m. 9 - 1 1

146

r

"I I J L

11-12

Example

147

13

J L

1 I

13

13.

14-15

J L

15

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

Example 148 Prologue, m. 9

11

145

dr

14 1

1—1 9

1

r m

1

_

b — ^ h

H 0-

N bi

—

#

s

1

.. _

-4 w

Example 149 Prologue,

p

f

of the drama in a general sense rather than specific characters or events of the drama (cf. pp. 87f., above). The initial chord of the Circus Music is thus, inasense, also the initial chord of the opera proper. Its interrelations with salient musical— and thereby dramatic—details are shown in Example 150: the connection with Aiwa through the triad with which the principal form of his series commences;

1

The Musical Language

146

Example 150

• 1 o^Lf 1 I d l , the c-e-f component, linearly unfolded as a motive in the top line, coinciding with the first three notes of the principal form of the Basic Series; the a-f-e component which gives us the first three notes of the associated inversional form of the Basic Series (cf. Ex. 39); the containment of the complete chord in the principal form and associated inversional form of Basic Cell II (cf. p. 1 7 1 , below). The same chord, at its original pitch-level, returns as the concluding chord of Act II, as the initial chord of Act III (as a component of the recapitulated Circus Music), and as the second of the three cadential chords that conclude the opera (Ex. 199), in each instance representing A i w a as one of the three persons—respectively Dr. Schon, A i w a , and Countess Geschwitz—most profoundly and tragically affected by their love for Lulu. It is A i w a w h o speaks in the Prologue, in the person of the Animal Tamer, and he speaks for the author of the drama and the composer of the opera. It is us, the audience, w h o m he invites to see the beasts in his menagerie, and it is us, as well as the characters on stage, w h o m his first words, " M a y I come in?", address, w h e n he enters in his own person at the rise of the curtain on Act I. What, then, can the Circus Music signify—with its explicit reference to "those others d o w n there in the Parterre" (p. 107, above)—when it returns as the Prelude to III/i and as the principal component of the three Ensembles, if not an identification of the Animal Tamer's "Verehrtes Publikum" with the seekers after easy pleasure and wealth w h o m w e meet in the Paris scene? A n d is not a further identification with a role enacted on the stage implied in the closing moments of the drama, w h e n the Circus Leitmotiv returns in a new harmonization derived from the "Irrsinn" chord (see pp. i27ff.), as Jack looks around for a towel after washing the blood from his hands (Ex. 1 5 1 ) ? Example 151 EXAMPLE 151 I I I , mm.

1307ff.

Jack

The Musical Language In the preceding chapter (p. 81) we quoted Douglas Jarman on the formal meaning of the recapitulation in II/2 (mm. 788-814) of the first twenty-seven bars of the Ensemble in II/i (mm. 85-120) as linking the two scenes that flank the central palindromic ostinato interlude. In a dramatic sense, this return to the music of the preceding scene takes its cue from the setting, which is also the same, but "in contrast to the previous scene, the room gives the impression of being uncaredfor, dusty and unlived-in. Daylight has been carefully shut out." 39 A s before, three characters participate in the ensemble, but only two of them, Schigolch and the Acrobat, are the same, the Countess having taken the place of the Schoolboy. In the preceding scene they make themselves at home as they await Lulu's return after her earlier exit with Dr. Schon; now they are together to conspire in her escape from prison. The music is essentially unchanged, except for the replacement of the Schoolboy's Series by various forms of the two five-note segments of the Countess's Trope (Ex. 152). Example 152 II, m. 103 104 Schoolboy's Series, Pj

104-106

II, m. 797 798 Countess Geschwitz's Trope

t

B(P0)

C(P Q )

Schoolboy d ? — t — r

Ifr

\l

J

Ich

BCPg)

1 1 1 J

111

111-112

805

805-806

B(Pn)

BCPj)

804-805

798-800

B(P9)

Countess Ceschwitz

110-111

l J

\'f

werd' aus der

A So

Schu 805

Ifr

hel

>

13

-

le

1

IXj

t

"r

ge-jagt!

fen

r

Sie

tf

rair

»J

doch!

The Prince in Act I, the Manservant in Act II, and the Marquis in Act III are each represented by variations on the same Chorale (cf. pp. 6if., above). Its expository statement (I/3, mm. 1113-1122) consists of thirty-six four-note chords which successively unfold, in the top line, Alwa's Series at Ps, the Basic Series at P3, and Dr. Schon's Series at P8. The first three chords, marking the entrance of Lulu's new suitor, the Prince, are the I n form of the Painter's Chords, the signal character of which, as a reference to the "Schlachtopfer" ("sacrificial offering") was pointed out above (p. 109). The next three chords unfold the P5 form of the Schoolboy's Series, in its usual segmentation, though the Schoolboy himself does 39 These are Berg's additions to Wedekind's stage directions.

147

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

148

not appear until the following scene. Most of the remaining chords are derived from the conjunction of various forms of the Picture Chords with the serial elements in the top line. The thirty-six chords are partitioned into successive groups of 1 , 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1 , with the final chord of each group emphasized by its duration and its cadential position. When partitioned in this way, the given forms of the three series unfolded in the top line present a different pitch class as the final element of each group, and the eleven different pitch classes thus derived give us the Marquis's Series (Ex. 91). Each of these thematic components of the Chorale—the series of thirty-six chords, the three twelve-tone series in the soprano line of the chord series, the eleven cadential chords (Ex. 153), the Marquis's Series—is employed as the subject of variations. Example 153

In the first variation, immediately following the expository statement of the Chorale, the original soprano line is converted into a cantus firmus, in rhythmic augmentation (the cadential note of each group is quadrupled in durational value; the other notes are doubled). In the following scene the two episodes in which the Manservant waits on Aiwa and Lulu (II/i, mm. 250-261,287-297) are each accompanied by restatements of the complete series of thirty-six chords, rhythmically modified but preserving, and even emphasizing, the original partitioning. The twelve Concertante Chorale Variations of III/i are based on the harmonized version of the Marquis's Series (i.e., Ex. 153, the series of eleven cadential chords given in the expository statement of the Chorale and in its two variations in II/i), and on the tone row itself. The latter is employed as a cantus firmus bass in Variations I and V. The harmonic details in both variations (Variation V is a transposed variant of Variation I) appear to be derived from the statements of the Painter's Chords and the Schoolboy's Series in the first six chords of the complete Chorale (I/3, mm. n i 3 f . ) . Variations II, III, IV, VI, XI, and XII are based on the harmonized Marquis's Series. A six-part canon on the tone row commences in Variation VII and is completed in the first bar of Variation VIII. Variations VIII, IX, and X each present a cantus firmus statement of the Marquis's Series. There is simultaneously a final recapitulation of the concluding number of II/i as Lulu pleads with the Marquis, just as she had with Aiwa in the earlier scene (cf. p. 90, above), not to turn her over to the police. This great duet between the Marquis and Lulu is one of the two major studies of Lulu's character, the other being her aria in II/i, the Lied der Lulu, an abbreviated recapitulation of which is incorporated into the duet. In its dramatically

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

crucial significance as Lulu's statement of self-awareness and justification, without which it is impossible to understand the tragic dénouement of the drama, it is, perhaps, the climactic number of the work as a whole. All the more painful, then, is the necessity of agreeing with Robin Holloway's evaluation: After the lucidity of Der Wein and most of Lulu itself, this music reverts to the impenetrability of the Kammerkonzert—a work crammed with secret games that, unlike the private messages in the Lyric Suite, are intended to be heard, and whose inexpressivity therefore makes a failure of the piece as a whole. In this part of the opera Berg still seems to be at the mercy of his facile complexity, and embarrassed with too many notes that one senses are there rather because he feels they ought to be than because he really wants them. The result is opaque and frustrating; and the two enclosed songs bring no relief. The Marquis's "Song of the Pimp" somehow fails to tell, while the all-important second verse of the "Lied der Lulu" (whose contour we already know from the similarly crucial apologia pro vita sua in Act II) is lost in the tangle of overgrowth. No wonder, in a scene where the words go fast and are vital for comprehension, that the ears can only take in what they know already, the snatches of "English Valse" from Act I, Scene 3.40 The one really effective component of the duet is the appassionato, the reminiscence of the II/i Arietta that is the musical setting for Lulu's adamant rejection of the Marquis's proposal and her desperate plea against the consequence of this rejection, her exposure to the police (mm. 1 1 9 - 1 2 2 , 1 7 6 - 1 8 1 , 205-223). THE FILM INTERLUDE

The example below from the beginning of the second act of Lulu is characteristic of the opera as a whole, as an illustration of the extent to which Berg integrates even the smallest productive aspects of the work into the composition itself. 41 Diagram 2

87

empty stage•

J

J

LULU—off SCHÖN

91

J>i off

J-

J>J

89 'J

GESCH. opens the center door cautiously

90 1 ventures into the room

93

J—4t

. listens -

empty stage j again

startled suddenly — ' ' s t e n s again and finally hides behind the firescreen

40 Holloway 79, T, p. 38. It is not "the tangle of overgrowth" that obscures the second verse, but the interchange of the two halves of the music of the second verse. Cerha 79 (p. 20) suggests that the "snatches of English Valse" are intended to point up an analogy between the Marquis's attempt to sell Lulu to a brothel and Dr. Schon's attempt to marry her off. (Cf. 1/3, mm. 1044ff.: "He brought me into the theater so that someone might be found who's rich enough to marry me.") A formal outline of the Duet is found in Green 81. 41 See also Jarman 79, Ex. 209.

149

The Musical Language

150

Action and music are synchronized here with a precision that anticipates the prerecorded soundtrack of a modern film. 42 It is all the more surprising, then, that the published score of the Film Music should give no indication whatever of the silent visual p h e n o m e n a it is intended to accompany, and that the scenario of the film in the published libretto should have nothing more precise to say about its relation to the music than that "the film s e q u e n c e — i n accordance with the symmetrical course of the m u s i c — s h o u l d also be quasi-symmetrical (i.e., it should run forwards and then backwards)." The correspondence of the boundary points of the palindromic musical structure and the quasi-palindromic scenario—the beginning ("Arrest"), midpoint ( " O n e year's imprisonment"), and end ("En route to her final liberation")—are, of course, self-evident. Double barlines mark the beginning and end of the Film Music and also separate the central bar, m. 687, from the remainder of the Film Music. The exact midpoint of the Film Music is marked b y a fermata that divides m. 687 exactly in half. The meaning of the fermata as the representation of the period of Lulu's imprisonment is visually symbolized in the unconventional notation of m. 687. The second half of the bar, w h e r e the retrograde begins, mirrors the first half graphically as well as musically, so that the fermata, in the full score, stands between the last note of the first half of the Film Music and the first note of the second half. (Berg's intentions as s h o w n in his fair copy of the full score are correctly represented in the published score of the Lulu Suite, only partially represented in the published score of the opera, and entirely misrepresented in the piano reduction.) If Berg could go so far as to employ an altogether novel notation to give u s a graphic representation of the period of Lulu's imprisonment—this hiatus in Lulu's life, w h e n nothing happens to mark the passage of t i m e — h o w could he have failed to correlate the events depicted in the film with the musical events in the score, just as he correlates, with such meticulous precision, the live action and its musical setting in the example from A c t II illustrated above, and e v e r y w h e r e else in the opera? In fact, in the Particell the composer carefully integrated scenario and music, precisely indicating the timing of the visual details relative to the musical details. Berg commenced his scoring of the opera with those sections w h i c h he planned to incorporate in the Lulu Suite, of w h i c h the second movement, under the title Ostinato, is the Film Music. The film scenario has no place in a concert suite. The subsequent publication of the Film Music as part of the opera score without the overlaying of the film scenario as given in the Particell w a s an unfortunate editorial oversight. In addition to the description of the film that overlays the music, there is a more detailed scenario on a separate sheet inserted in the Particell, with bar numbers s h o w i n g its correspondence to the music (Plate 7). The scenario published b y Willi Reich 43 and incorporated in the published libretto w a s an earlier version, prepared in advance of the composition of the Film Music and not subsequently corrected. Given the strict correspondences imposed b y the palindromic design, 42 Berg's concern with small, self-contained visual, as well as musical, formal units is reflected here in the stage direction, "empty stage again," the empty stage being this time a recapitulation of the empty stage in mm. f ^ f . 43 Reich 36, MQ; Reich 37; etc.

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

anyone sufficiently familiar with the musical material of the opera—tone rows specifically identified with the characters of the drama, the "fate rhythm," the Picture Chords, Lulu's Entrance Music, and so on—should have been able to establish a correlation of film and film music through a careful analysis of the latter, and I am probably not the only person who ever attempted to do so. But there is a troubling discrepancy where the published scenario refers to "die drei Zeugen der Tat" ("the three witnesses to the crime"). The music that should correspond to this (mm. {670-678?) gives us not only the twelve-tone sets associated with the three witnesses—the Schoolboy, Aiwa, and the Countess—but also the sets of Schigolch and the Acrobat, who were in the apartment earlier and left before the crime was committed. The scenario in the Particell and Berg's annotations in the Film Music simply refer to "5 Zeugen," and at the parallel point in the second half of the palindrome (mm. {696-704?), where the published scenario refers to "die drei Helfer für die Befreiungsaktion" ("the three helpers in the liberation"), the Particell refers to "die 5 Heifer." A n altogether incomprehensible detail in the published scenario can finally be cleared up. The last two items in the first half of this are "Anfängliche Resignation" ("Initial resignation") and "Lulus Bild: als Schatten an der Kerkermauer" ("Lulu's picture, as a shadow on the prison wall"); the corresponding items, in reverse order, in the second half, at the end of her first year's imprisonment, are "Lulus Bild: als Spiegelbild in einer Schaufel" ("Lulu's picture, as a reflection in a shovel") and "Erwachender Lebensmut" ("Awakening will to live"). Who would have left a shovel in Lulu's cell, and how would her picture appear "as a reflection" in it? The definitive scenario has "Ihr Bild in der Schaufel (die die Wärterin bringt)." It is not a shovel that the female warder brings, but a dustpan. 44 Just as the nadir of Lulu's descent and her ultimate resignation of her own identity are symbolized in her image as a shadow on the prison wall, so the very first step in her "awakening will to live" is symbolized when she troubles to look upon her reflection in the dustpan. In the Particell of Act II the composer is still inconsistent in his identification of der Athlet (whom he also refers to as "Rodrigo") and der Gymnasiast (who in Act II, Scene 1 , is referred to as "Hug.," an abbreviated form of the name assigned to him by Wedekind, and in the following scene as "Student"). In my transcription of the scenario and of Berg's annotations to the Film Music 4 5 1 refer to both characters by the titles Berg ultimately assigned to them. I have corrected the bar numbers in the scenario, each of which must be increased by the addition of 1 to conform to the Film Music. The composer either made an error, subsequently corrected, in his bar count, or subsequently inserted an additional bar before the first bar of the Film Music. 44 Compare the following passage near the conclusion of Act I of Pandora's Box: "ALWA: Didn't you lose your vanity even in prison? LULU: One feels so frightened when one hasn't seen oneself for months. Then one day I got a brand-new dust-pan. When I swept up at seven o'clock in the morning I used to hold the underside up to my face. The tin didn't flatter me, but it did me good all the same." (Wedekind 52.) 45 I am grateful to Dr. Rosemary Hilmar of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek and to Cary Plotkin for their assistance in deciphering Berg's handwritten scenario and annotations.

151

The Musical Language

152

Diagram 3 FILM Bar 651

Bar E n d of Scene 1

Beginning of Scene 2

722

-Curtain* 654/5

falls
»

656

Aiwa

Schoolboy 661

En route to final

718

Geschwitz

liberation (the

713

Acrobat

3 participants)

in chains

at liberty (as C o u n t e s s G.)

712

664

In n e r v o u s expectation

In n e r v o u s expectation

707

668

Dwindling hope

Growing hope

705

663

711

670

(the 5 witnesses)

672-677

The offense—revolver 1

/

J u d g e , jury

I

-1 > r-

\

/ (5 helpers)

I /

Illness (instrument) Doctors and students

677

T h e sentence

\ [Conspiracy for her] rescue

678/9

Collapse

To the doctor (in hospital)

Police v a n

A m b u l a n c e (stretcher)

680

n < m m 50

ui •s O

*»

2? 0

z

0

z 695/6

The door opens

Resignation

A w a k e n i n g will to live

690/1

685/6

H e r s h a d o w on the wall

Her i m a g e in the d u s t p a n

688/9

(like the picture)

687

D m r~

704 n 696-700 O (zi 2m c O n > 696

683

z

>

694 T h e d o o r shuts

Z T 2 O

719/21

End

Aiwa

(the 3 participants) G e s c h w i t z

m H

O m H 2 -i O Z

Interlude

0

z

(which the w a r d e r brings)

One year's'imprisonment

^

z

687

The sequence of the filmed events corresponding to the symmetrical course of the music is likewise to run in a quasi-forward and retrograde progression, wherein corresponding occurrences and associated phenomena are to be matched with one another as closely as possible. In addition to the above congruencies (placed side by side) of this sort (in the large: trial-medical consultation, detentionisolation ward, etc.), also those of a lesser and the least sort: for instance, revolver-stethoscope (hypodermic syringe), bullets-phials, generally legal-medical parallels, § and caduceus, chains-bandages, prison clothes-hospital clothes, prison corridors-hospital corridors. Likewise personal congruencies: judge and jury, medical staff and students, police-nurses.

In Berg's annotations to the Film Music the points of inception of the visual elements are always explicitly indicated. These are represented as points of attack in the following diagrammatic reduction. Points of termination can be determined by comparing points of inception of corresponding elements in the complementary half of the Film Music. I have inserted a few details from the scenario and made several other editorial revisions in order to clarify the relation of music to film.

The Musical Language

Diagram 4 Curtain falls quickly — police burst in 654 655 Vorhang rasch zu Polizei dringt ein

153

ARREST (the 3 participants) the premises inspected 657 658 VERHAFTUNG (die 3 Beteiligten) Lokalaugenschein

1

656

659

[4-zAiwa

chained 661

660

DETENTION 663 664 UNTERSUCHUNGSHAFT

662

1 J^/LAoJ—^^—1 ^ Aiwa

Gymn.

Gesch.

for acquittal 665 nung auf Freispruch

666

Gefesselt

bL

dwindling hope 668 Schwindende Hoffnung

667

TRIAL (5 witnesses) 670 671 PROCESS (5 Zeugen)

672

675

^

Hope Hoff-

669

She is overcome

674

673

JU

Sie unterliegt

J ^ j J — J ^ j / l J Lulu-

Gesch.

Gymn.

(8er Reihe...) Gesch. •*• (8er R e i h e . . . ) Schig. - (8er R e i h e . . . ) Aiwa (8er Reihe.. ,)Ath. »- (8er R e i h e . . . ) Schön »-(8er R e i h e . . . ) Gymn. (Die Waffe) [8er Reihen (the weapon) 8-note series the sentence 677 Ver -ur -

676

ja

collapse 678 tei - lung

679 Zusammenbruch

Schig. (Revolver)

Schig.

Polizeiwächter police guard

IN PRISON Prison door shuts 680

IM KERKER Kerkertür geht zu I

681

682

683

resignation 684 Resignation

her shadow on 685

Ihr Schatten an

The Musical Language

154 the wall 686 der Wand

her image in a dustpan 689 Ihr Bild in einer Schaufel

1 year's imprisonment 687

688 o

^—M^

1 Jahr Haft

awakening will to live 690 Erwachender Lebens-

«L

(vollster Stillstand) (complete standstill)

(cheerfulness) 691 mut (Heiterkeit)

MEDICAL CONSULTATION [in hospital] 695 Kerkertür geht auf KONSILIUM [im Spital] Prison door opens

692

694

693

fJ-

Spital

Ins_

Krankenauto

to the hospital

rescue plan (the 5 helpers) 697 698 Befreiungsaktion (die 5 Heifer)

696

699

the medical examination gradual success 701 Die Arztliche Untersuchung allmählich gelungen

Schig.

Schig.

Schig. [8er Reihen — 8-note series

700

ambulance

Ath.

Gesch.

(really ill: cholera) 702

Gymn.

707

713

^

704

703

—

—

"

Aiwa

ISOLATION WARD growing hope 705 706 (wirklich ISOLIERBARACKE krank: Cholera) Steigende Hoffnung

L

-

J

J-

Lulu

Schön

She is treated more as an invalid than as a prisoner 708 709 710 711 sie wird mehr als Kranke als als Gefangene behandelt

Re-entrance of the [3] helpers 714 Wiedereintritt der [3] Helfer

J i n i Gesch. Aiwa Gymn.[?l

J: _

A

DELIVERANCE at liberty (disguised as the Countess) 712 BEFREIUNG auf freiem Fuss (als die Gräfin verkleidet)

715

716

1^

| . n j;

Gesch.

717

(Gymn.?)

1 A 4 Aiwa

The Musical L a n g u a g e

155 Curtain rises slowly

718

719

13

720 721 Vorhang öffnet sich langsam

U

z b -

The following remarks are offered as a commentary on the preceding diagrammatic reduction of Berg's annotated short score of the Film Music: f656-661 f The twelve-tone set associated with each of these roles is identified in the Particell. 670-678f Basic Cell I is extracted from the Basic Series (Lulu), Dr. Schön's Series, Alwa's Series, the Schoolboy's Series, the ordered version of Countess Geschwitz's Trope, and the Acrobat's Series (Ex. 104). The extraction of Basic Cell I from each series leaves an eight-note series that is reiterated as an ostinato figure. C674-676 Basic Cell I, marked "Die Waffe" ("the weapon"), is repeated in the "fate rhythm" (cf. pp. 207ft., below). 677-678!* The annotation "Revolver" appears on the downbeat of the third statement of Basic Cell I in the "fate rhythm." P679 "Polizeiwächter" ("police guard") appears beneath the ascending sixteenth-note figure. "Gefängnisauto" ("police van") is given in the scenario at this point, as the symmetrical complement of "Krankenauto" ("ambulance") (m. 695). 695 C figure.

"Krankenauto" appears beneath the descending sixteenth-note

f696-697 The separate scenario has a medical "instrument" as complement to the revolver (see mm. 677-678f above) and suggests a stethoscope or hypodermic syringe. This "instrument" would appear in association with the first retrograde statement of Basic Cell I in the "fate rhythm." 697ft. The same twelve-tone sets that represent the five witnesses at the trial return in retrograde here to represent the five "helpers" in Lulu's escape (Ex. 219). The Schoolboy, however, is not part of the conspiracy in which the other four are involved. His plan to help Lulu is conceived independently and without the knowledge of the others, as we learn when he visits Aiwa to enlist his collaboration after his escape from the reformatory. He would have to be shown apart from the others at this point in the film. f6g6-yooC "Krankheit" ("illness") is given as the symmetrical complement of "Die Schuld" ("the offense") in the scenario. P713-718 The preservation of strictly palindromic correspondences in the Film Music from this point on results in a discrepancy with the staged events after the rise of the curtain on the second scene of Act II. The "3 Be-

The Musical Language

156

teiligten" ("3 participants") at the conclusion of II/i and at the beginning of the film are A i w a , Countess Geschwitz, and the Schoolboy. The " 3 Heifer" ("3 helpers") at the conclusion of the film and the beginning of the second scene are A i w a , Countess Geschwitz, and the Acrobat. The annotations show that the composer w a s disturbed by this discrepancy and suggest that he would have made some revisions in the conclusion of both the scenario and the Film Music before incorporating them in the continuous text and score of the definitive version of the opera. In "Wiedereintritt der 3 Helfer" ("Return of the 3 helpers") the " 3 " is crossed out and beneath it there stands "(2)" preceded by the note "statt Hug: Rod."). In m. 716 the following notation appears under the Schoolboy's Series: (Hug?) Rodr. Was Berg considering a procedure analogous to that which he employed in recapitulating mm. 94-120 of II/i at mm. 788-814 of II/2? (Cf. p. 147, above.) Linear statements of the Acrobat's Chords could have been substituted for the Schoolboy's Series in the last six bars of the Film Music, just as various forms of the two five-note segments of the Countess's Trope are substituted for segments of the Schoolboy's Series in Example 152. 712ft. The conclusion of the scenario and that of Berg's annotations in the Film Music remain problematical. He cannot have intended to show Lulu disguised as the Countess in m. 7 1 2 and the Countess, as herself, in the next bar. At the close of the preceding scene two dramatic components are simultaneously presented in the instant change from live action to film: the live characters on the stage are replaced by their filmed counterparts; Lulu in freedom is replaced by Lulu under arrest. Their symmetrical complements can only be successively presented at the conclusion of the film, and the change to a tempo that is "almost twice as slow as at the parallel place" is consistent with this change. What w e shall see at the rise of the curtain on the second scene of Act II—the three conspirators (Aiwa, Countess Geschwitz, and the Acrobat) in the same setting on which the preceding curtain had fallen—is anticipated just before the conclusion of the Film Music, where the notation "Wiedereintritt der [3] Helfer" appears. It is only after this, in the concluding bar of the Film Music, where the scenario has Lulu " a m Weg zur endgültigem Befreiung" ("En route to her final liberation"), that w e can see Lulu "auf freiem Fuss (als die Gräfin verkleidet)" ("at liberty [disguised as the Countess]"), about to meet Schigolch, w h o is to escort her back to the apartment. At the rise of the curtain after the Film Music w e find ourselves at an earlier point in time and action, with Countess Geschwitz herself, among her fellow conspirators, awaiting Schigolch's arrival to escort her to the hospital, where she is to take Lulu's place. In m. 687 an annotation appears that has nothing at all to do with the film. A marginal note refers to the sustained bk in the violins that marks the midpoint of the Film Music: "Welch Zufall! Allerletzte Scene! Immer das H ! " ("What a co-

ILLUSTRATIONS

3- Measures 9 - 1 5 of the Largo desolato of the Lyric Suite in the manuscript draft at the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek in Vienna. The cryptographic text discovered and identified by Douglass M. Green commences on the upbeat to m. 13. The setting of the first two lines of text is shown (we enclose Berg's deletions in brackets): Zu D[ir] d[u] [Einzig] Teu[re] dringt [mein] Schrei aus tiefster [Schlucht darin mein] Herz [gefallen]. This segment of the text setting is identical with the viola part in the fair copy except for the upbeat, which is at the octave above.

Hanna Fuchs-Robettin.

m cra X i L A O N ai

**mst Jijaî /FS! ^ ¿v

«

ON N

îtei

-'y

n3

C O C C

.gX C O nî

> >5 r ¿ pi* 4 5• M UM S 4 * W •

r

^ô à"' ¿1

O

S C o c -> te«x

T3

kî

V

WWfttiiï, ™

O

01

MB IMMV t i

m

"

Jü 1 km if if •

01

>

a .

1

y ï

S:

yi \n

Lh y;o c JZ C 'LJZ 0~) b O SC y¡ 1 S«cß -rC — 3

03

¡^

CO

-»->

ON

• H-y

>-

S

"O

S

.SP

6. Frank Wedekind.

T j j n ? r ~ ' in h I •• •

^

—

r

—

TOT Wvt -

I/.' t f.«/wf ~ t r/

I

—H

Uv ,' ^ cAsyj^

J

'

J

/

' H- • -iP '

—

...

^

-

_

/ K. , X

»1/

J

ho

'

f t ^

,

/ '

^

^

¡5

K^uiut.:

r

% ty

• f-eb of the "Jetzt kommt die Hinrichtung" Leitmotiv in the vocal part ("Du unabwendbares Verhängnis" [cf. p. 80, above]) and French horns. (This interpretation is confirmed in Berg's Particell.)

Example 166 I I , m. 3 9 1

392

393

394

o ^hi

fe y*

-

*=

7

8

9

10

"9

i

t

™

p

p

2 7

.

.

u

8

9

10

,

J i

11

7

I7

I2

l

8

9

^ 10

u u 11

»

Example 167 I I , mm. P

5

394-400

b*

*

e

fe)

^

11

0

1

The Musical L a n g u a g e

Where inversionally related pitch-classes—in the present instance, any two whose sum of pitch-class numbers is 9—form an adjacency in a given set form, that same adjacency will be duplicated in the inversionally related set form. The progression of paired set forms commences with P2 and I 7 and concludes with P5 and I 4 . The initial adjacency of P2 is d-g (2, 7), that of I 7 is g-d (7, 2); the final adjacency of P5 is cH-gH (1, 8), that of I 4 is glt-ctt (8, 1). These four notes unfold the transposition of Basic Cell I that marks the entry of the voice (Ex. 168). In mm. 404-406 of the second strophe there is a progression of paired P and I segments analogous to that of Example 166, still unfolding P/I dyads of Sum 9 and associated with a second transposition of Basic Cell I (Ex. 169). The latter may again be analyzed into two Sum-9 dyads, b-b\> ( 1 1 , 1 0 ) and e-f(4, 5). Example 168 II, m. 387

•» r r T 1 * Du

Kre - a

-

tur

Example 169 407 \L E

I,

7

8

9

406

405 Io

II, m. 404

10

11

7

Ich

•

8

9

10

11

7

8

9

10

11

W.

muQ mich r e t - t e n

=

0

1

In the preceding paragraph we interpret two transpositions of Basic Cell I, a minor third apart, as unfolding the same sum of complementation. We accomplish this by partitioning the first into its Interval-5 components and the second into its Interval-i components. The converse procedure would have resulted in Sum-3 interpretations for both transpositions: d-d (2,1), g-gtt (7, 8) for the version of Basic Cell I in Example 168, and b-e (11,4), f-b\> (5,10) for the version in Example 169. Any tetrachord that is divisible into two dyads separated by a tritone may be similarly interpreted as representing either of two sums of complementation, T(n) or T(n±6). The equivalence of any statement of Basic Cell I with its tritone transposition and the implications of this equivalence were discussed earlier (pp. 88f.). Basic Cell II also has a special relationship to Dr. Schon's Aria and its governing structural concept, the maintenance of fixed collections of symmetrically re-

169

The Musical Language

170

lated dyads. Basic Cell II is illustrated at its primary pitch-level in Example 53. 69 The same transposition of Basic Cell II serves as Segment C of the principal form, P7, of Countess Geschwitz's Trope (Ex. 54) and as the first five notes of the principal inversional form, I 9/ of Dr. Schon's Series (Ex. 58). It is thus significant as a component of the white-key/black-key partitioning that plays such an important role in the harmonic language of the opera (Ex. 93) and that is most obviously and directly expressed in the Acrobat's Chords (Ex. 60). The dramatic meaning of Basic Cell II as a component of the I 9 form of Dr. Schon's Series is implied in the words of which it is the setting as the salient initial motive of his Arietta, "Das mein Lebensabend," near the beginning of the second act (cf. pp. ioof., above). When Dr. Schon, suspecting that an intruder may be hiding ("Man ist ja seines Lebens nicht sicher" ["One isn't sure of one's life"]), draws his revolver, the very weapon that will bring his life to an end near the conclusion of the same scene, the same five notes occur as a chord, reiterated in the "fate rhythm" (Ex. 214) against recurring linear statements of the remaining notes of the series in the bass. A variant of the same music introduces the strophic aria (mm. 380-386) as Dr. Schon, revolver in hand, searches for the Acrobat. The deletion of b from the P4 form of Basic Cell II converts it into the allimportant tetrachord illustrated in Example 150. This is a symmetrical collection, i.e., it may be subdivided into two inversionally related components. The sum of complementation is, again, 9: c(o)-e(4) «(9 )"/(5) In mm. 362ft., just before the commencement of the Introduction and Aria, as the Acrobat darts from his hiding place while Dr. Schon is escorting Aiwa to the exit, the characteristic five-note figure is subjected to inversionally corresponding semitonal revisions of its boundary notes, so that these progress through the Intervals series of Sum-9 P/I dyads (cf. p. 168, above), eventually returning to the original motive: 70 f ft g gt/ d A ef (abc) e A d d I gt g ft f e In the first four bars of the second strophe of the Aria there is an analogous converging progression from a chordal statement of the Basic Cell: f e e\> d d\> (abc) e f fit g gtt We have called attention to the frequent pairing of P n and I n + 7 forms of Countess Geschwitz's Trope (Ex. 57). Such a pairing duplicates Segment A of the 69 We assume that e is the referential note and identify the pitch-class collection illustrated in Example 53 as "P 4 " regardless of its ordering. 70 In the vocal score, m. 364, the b\> in the right-hand part is a misprint for bi.

The Musical Language set and revises only one note of each of the remaining segments (Ex. 170). (The I s form of Basic Cell II is also illustrated in Example 150.) The semitonal expansion of Basic Cell II described above is accompanied by a pedal-note, b\> (mm. 362ff.), the Sum-9 complement of bk. The subsequent semitonal contraction of Basic Cell II (mm. 40iff.) is followed (m. 404) by a six-note chord derived from the simultaneous unfolding of the last four elements of Dr. Schon's Series in their I, and P8 alignments: Ii:

c b

171

f b\>

P8: a b\> e b In both instances the two complementary forms of Basic Cell II are represented, in a Sum-9 relationship to each other: e a b

c f

f c b\> a e Example 170 Countess Geschwitz's Trope

1

g

: •

, - „ lt-1. j| il- " r

A

B

i

.

-

*

=1

C (Basic Cell II, P 4 )

11

• A

B

' -d\> (gH-ctt) as a component of the P8 form of Dr. Schon's Series and of the note-for-note alignment of the Pj and I8 (Sum-9) forms of Dr. Schon's Series (Exx. 124t.).71 The Sum-9 dyads of Dr. Schon's Aria are anticipated here and in the Signal Motive (Ex. 37). The latter was cited as "the prevailing recurrent tone center" of Lulu, though it "does not establish the basic 'tonality' of the work as a whole." In mm. f406-414 of the second strophe of Dr. Schon's Aria, cycles of Interval 1 inversionally paired at Sum 9 overlap, with each successive entry transposed so as to join its predecessor at Interval 5. The progression may be diagrammed as follows: Diagram 7

ctt a c

a\> ctt 8»

c 8 d a

e b

A V»

8'\> A b\

f e

f

fl

b

8 d a e

d\> a\> A

f c

fl

8 d

8* dit

ctt

71 jarman 79, pp. 94f.; Jarman 70a, PNM.

to,

d a

ctt

c

b

b

8*

8

fl

(f

e

a\ A)

A b\,

(e b

f c

fl) ctt

f

fl

8

8*

d a

A b\

b

c

ctt

f c

e b

8 d

fl

8 d a e

A

a

The Musical Language

172

A new sum of complementation, 7, governs the five-bar resumption of the Tumultuoso that marks the conclusion of the second strophe. This is generated by the note-for-note alignment of the principal (P4) form of Basic Cell II with its I 3 complement. The series of P/I dyads of Sum 7 is completed with the fH-cll dyad that introduces the third strophe. The three configurations that unfold the six P/I dyads of Sum 7 represent a tripartite partitioning of the I 9 form of Dr. Schon's Series (Ex. 171): f c b

a

elc§

d g a\> b\> e\> I fit

The transition to these Sum-7 alignments of Interval-5 adjacencies (f-c/d-g; a-el b[>-e[>) is effected in m. 415, where overlapping statements of the last five notes of P 0 , P 10 , and P8 forms of Dr. Schon's Series conclude with a chord consisting of three Interval-5 adjacencies symmetrically relatable to one another as P/I dyads of Sum 7: a\-e\! b-e

fH-clt/e-b / cft-ftt/e\>-a\>

Example 1 7 1

The Sum-9 alignments of inversionally related forms of Dr. Schon's Series that unfold in the first seven bars of Strophe 1 (Exx. 164 and 166) are transposed to produce Sum-7 alignments in the first six bars of Strophe 3. Basic Cell I returns here at two new pitch-levels, each of which may be interpreted as comprising two Sum-7 dyads (Ex. 172). Example 172

II, m. 421 b* ^

m. fp423f. *

h-

I

( t

- (ft

"*)

In the remaining fifteen bars of Strophe 3 and the first two bars of Strophe 4, two series of parallel fifths moving against each other in contrary motion unfold Segments C and B of Countess Geschwitz's Trope at P3 and P 10 in the lower voices and their inversional complements of Sum 7 (I4 and I 9 ) in the upper. Each perfect fifth is reinterpreted as an A segment of Countess Geschwitz's Trope, so that the following series of subsidiary statements of the set is produced: Diagram 8

P0 I7

I'll Pj

P7 P5

P5 P7

P4 P8

P3 I4

Pn

P,o I9

I3 In

Ij

The Musical Language

Not all of these subsidiary statements unfold inversionally complementary set forms, and there is no attempt to align those segments that are complementary to one another so that they will unfold the symmetrically related P/I dyads (except in m. 439, where the B segments of P3 and I 4 are so aligned). 72 Strophe 4, the longest of the five, has the character of a development section in the context of the Aria as a whole. In the third bar, together with the entry of the vocal part, inversionally related forms of Dr. Schon's Series return in a notefor-note alignment at Sum 7 (P, and I 6 ), but this rigorous alignment is not maintained. Symmetrically related P/I dyads of different sums unfold at the same time, and in many passages the concept of strict inversional symmetry plays no role at all. Numerous restatements of earlier episodes occur. The first phrase in the vocal part duplicates that of the first four bars of Strophe 1 at the tritone below, at which pitch level its initial motive, Basic Cell I, may again be interpreted as representing either Sum 9 or Sum 3, neither of which duplicates the sum of complementation simultaneously represented in the orchestra, as Sum 9 did in Strophe 1 . At Dr. Schon's reference to his servant in mm. 449-453, music associated with the latter is recalled: Alwa's Series as a component of the Chorale Theme. This returns in the version given to the viola at the servant's appearance earlier in the same scene (mm. 287-290), but here has been transposed so that the first twelve notes of the upper line of the Chorale Theme occur at their original pitchlevel (cf. mm. 1 1 1 3 - 1 1 1 6 of Act I and mm. 250-254 of Act II). The given form of Alwa's Series, P5, is anticipated by the first seven notes of the I 1 0 form of Dr. Schon's Series (Ex. 173), which shares the same hexachordal and trichordal pitchclass content (cf. pp. 96f., above). The latter set form is the source of the initial chord of the accompanying ("begleitend") harmonic progression in the horns. Two collections of P/I dyads, of Sums 7 and 3, are simultaneously unfolded (Ex. 174a). In an alternative interpretation the same progression may be analyzed into P/I dyads of Sums 4 and 6 (Ex. 174b), and this second interpretation accounts for the chord that concludes the progression in m. 453. The return of the Leitmotiv of "Jetzt kommt die Hinrichtung" as the setting of "Ich mich scheiden lassen!" ("I—divorce you!") brings with it a return (mm. 472f.) of the paired segments of the P 7 /I 2 and P 0 / 1 9 forms of Dr. Schon's Series 72 In the same bar the viola has the C segment of P7 instead of I4. Missing in mm. 441f. are the C segment of I3 and the B segment of I n . The presence of the C segment of P8 here implies that the A segment of I3 is also to be understood as the A segment of P8. (In m. 436 of the vocal score, the dlt in Countess Geschwitz's part is a misprint for clt.)

Example 173 Alwa's Series, P,

1

b.

ft

1,.

|-|m

„

'

Dr. Schon's Serie S

it^i

' 'lO •

173

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

174

Example 174

_£•

fct

«

\u

t

fi*

Sura 3 I I , mm. 448-452 Sum 7

Sum 6

rl..

M

>

M

b«

I I , mm. 4 4 8 - 4 5 2

m . 453

Sum 4

\>vl

'

T

that accompanied the same Leitmotiv at its earlier appearance in the first strophe, mm. 392-394 (cf. pp. 80 and 168, above). The Sum-9 dyads unfolded in the orchestra are also represented in the first four notes of the Leitmotiv (Ex. 175). There is an extraordinary confirmation of this interpretation of the Leitmotiv in an altogether exceptional compositional detail—the concurrent statement of the inversional form of the Leitmotiv at a pitch level that duplicates the same Sum-9 dyads (mm. 473f.). The device is a musical metaphor, a representation of the sense of the text as Dr. Schön continues: "Lässt man sich scheiden, wenn die Menschen ineinander hineingewachsen und der halbe Mensch mitgeht" ("Does one divorce, when two people have grown into each other and half of one goes along?"). Strophe 4 concludes with an abbreviated variant of the progression of complementary "fourth chords" in Strophe 2 (see p. 1 7 1 , above). The sum of complementation is still 9, but the upper segment of the progression is transposed to T ( n ) and the lower segment to T(i), and there are several rhythmic displacements (not shown in the following diagram): Diagram 9

A a c

gtt clt

d a e

8^ d\ a\> A

f c

e b

8 d 8 d a e

ß ctt a\, A b\,

c

b

8 d a

ft f e A b\> b

f c

ft ctt

fl

8

gf dtt

f

The Musical Language

Example

1

175

175

f f f 1

II, ram, 473f.

I 7TTT f?T Ich

mich

schei

-

den

fc m T j : j

"

las - sen!

w

The Lied der Lulu intervenes between the fourth and fifth strophes of the Aria. Inversional relations are consistently employed throughout the Lied, but complementary elements unfold successively, rather than simultaneously as in Dr. Schön's Aria. The Lied falls into five periods, each composed of an antecedent and a consequent phrase to reflect the analogous structure of the verbal text, with the vocal line of each consequent phrase inverting that of its antecedent:73 Period 1 (mm. 491-494/495-497): "Wenn sich die Menschen um meinetwillen umgebracht haben, / so setzt das meinen Wert nicht herab." Period 2 (mm. 498-502/503-507): "Du hast so gut gewusst, weswegen Du mich zur Frau nahmst, / wie ich gewusst habe, weswegen ich Dich zum Mann nahm." Period 3 (mm. 508-511/512-515): "Du hattest Deine besten Freunde mit mir betrogen, / Du konntest nicht gut auch noch Dich selber mit mir betrügen." Period 4 (mm. 516-518/519-521): "Wenn Du mir Deinen Lebensabend zum Opfer bringst, / so hast Du meine ganze Jugend dafür gehabt." Period 5 (mm. 522-528/529-535): "Ich habe nie in der Welt etwas anderes scheinen wollen, als wofür man mich genommen hat; / und man hat mich nie in der Welt für etwas anderes genommen, als was ich bin." Inversional relations are stated literally, except in Period 1, where the Basic Series at P0 is answered by a cyclically permuted version of I 10 (Ex. 176). Both set forms are thus partitioned into the characteristic white-key and black-key collections. The sums of complementation for each of the three following periods (respectively o, 1, and 0) establish significant points of invariance between inversionally related phrases: both phrases of Period 2 commence with the same pitch-class, share the same "augmented triad" at midpoint, and conclude with the same dyad (Ex. 177); both phrases of Period 3 unfold the same pair of octatonic scales, in reverse order (Ex. 178); both phrases of Period 4 share the same five-note segment of the whole-tone scale and an invariant three-note collection (Ex. 179). The parallel principal clauses of the final sentence are set to inversionally related phrases 73 For an English translation of the text, see p. 48, above.

The Musical Language

176

Example 176 Basic Series, P .

—i

I Basic Series, I^g

0

1 2

3

Example 177 II, mm. 498ff.

L

j j'r it

Du hast

so

gut

k ttf

1 .

wie ich

ge - wüßt

T

r J

ge-wußt,—

f ha

I

wes-we -

n -

, hr

be,

gen_

J 3^ T ir '1

Du mich zur

Frau nahmst,

-

wes-we - gen_

1

ich Dich

zum Mann

I

nahm.

I

Example 178

»

*

ti'

fr

fa

ti' H«

Example 179 Lulu's Series, I

that are complementary at Sum 2; its parallel dependent clauses are each set to another version of Basic Cell I. In its opening and closing bars the Lied der Lulu is tonally associated with Dr. Schon's Aria through complementary relationships of Sum 7. The Basic Series at P0/ which provides the vocal setting of the initial clause, is canonically imitated in the orchestra at I 7 (Ex. 180). The presence of two Sum-7 dyads, c-g and d-f, within the first five notes of the Basic Series at both P0 and I 7 establishes a significant harmonic relationship between these two set forms, even where the latter are displaced relative to each other, so that the P/I dyads do not occur as vertical entities, as they do in the examples cited from Dr. Schon's Aria. Lulu's closing

The Musical Language words are set to Basic Cell I at a pitch level that permits its partitioning into two Sum-7 dyads (Ex. 181: Sum-7 dyads are bracketed). It will be noted that the last two notes preceding Basic Cell I also form a Sum-7 dyad. Example

180

I I , mm. f°491ff. Basic Series, P .

Wenn sich

die

f Men

um - ge- bracht

-

sehen

urn

mei

È

'e H i net - will - en

m

ha - ben,

I Example

181

The note-for note alignment of complementary elements is resumed with the return to Dr. Schon's Aria. The fifth and final strophe commences with the simultaneous statement of three pairs of inversionally related set forms of Dr. Schon's Series: P7 and I0 ( = Sum 7), P n and I4 ( = Sum 3), and P, and I6 ( = Sum 7). This last is supplanted by P6 and Ij in m. 542 (Ex. 182), as the other paired stateset ments of complementary set forms terminate,74 and this new Sum-7 P a i f forms merges in turn into a Sum-7 variant of the array of inversionally related "fourth chords" illustrated above (pp. 171 and 174). Each of the three statements of the "fourth-chord" array marks an analogous moment in the dramatic unfolding of the Aria. The first (mm. |*4o6ff.) occurs when "with sudden determination, thrusting the revolver upon her," Dr. Schon demands that Lulu "apply" it to herself; the second (mm. |*486£f.) when he threatens to take it from her and "to spare [her] the trouble"; the third (mm. 544ff.), leading to his own death, when he forces her to her knees and directs the barrel of the revolver in her hand against herself. The conclusion of Dr. Schon's Aria is marked by the conversion of the final chord 74 Jarman 70a, PNM, Ex. 35.

177

The Musical Language 178

of the array into Basic Cell II at P4 (Ex. 183). This "modulation" from Sum-7 inversional symmetry to Sum-9 is effected through the Schoolboy's Series, as the Schoolboy suddenly diverts Dr. Schon's attention by jumping out from under the table where he has been hiding. The Introduction and Aria opens and closes with a chordal statement of Basic Cell II at P4 and is framed by Tumultuoso episodes unfolding an array generated by the symmetrical contraction and expansion of this figure. The eighteen bars Example 182 II, mm. 542ff.

" ' - M

'TT r „

f

^

(P 11

r

L f f J

É 8

p

1)

2

i

n 1)

f

I^Mid

^

r

r

L i r

rn T

T

r

j

j

T

OA.

=

4

-0

k

.751«

-m

d/fH d c bWg c

179

The Musical Language 180

Basic Cell I is sustained through the following bars (Ex. 185, mm. 682ff.), as the outer voices modulate into a Sum-5 progression. The boundary P/I dyad of this progression, c-f, is a salient detail of the closing bars of III/i and the opening bars of the following Interlude. Cell II at P0 (with its a\>-d\> Signal dyad) announces the arrival of the police to apprehend the murderer of Dr. Schôn, just as it did at the conclusion of II/i. Example 184 Basic Cell II, P.

Ill, mm. 679ff. Basic Cell II, P

In zwei M i - n u - t e n kommt die Po-li-zei!

m

Wir sind an-ge-zeigt! = 4

=hi

Sum 9

orch

hier

blei-ben, wenn Du Lust h a s t . Aiwa

Sum 1

Basic Cell I

Um

Him - mels - wil - len!

Example 185

mm. 688ff.

Du kannst ja

É

The Musical Language The role that is most consistently associated with strict inversional symmetry in the opera as a whole is that of Countess Geschwitz. We have shown how Basic Cell II, the equivalent of Segment C of Countess Geschwitz's Trope, may be converted into a symmetrical tetrachord through the omission of one of its elements (p. 170, above). Segment B may be similarly converted, and Segment A, since it contains only two notes, is by definition a symmetrical collection. All three symmetrical collections as contained in any given form of Countess Geschwitz's Trope share a single sum of complementation, and where P n and I n+7 —complementary set forms that share the same perfect-fifth segment—are paired, that same sum is represented in the relations between the two set forms, as well as in each set form individually (Ex. 186). The Sum-i P/I dyads of Segments B and C in Example 186a are linearly unfolded against the sustained perfect-fifth segment in Example 186b. The two set forms, P9 and I4, are identical in segmental content except for the interchange of ck and ctt. The alternation of these two notes reflects the sense of Alwa's words, "Aber ich finde keine Worte . . ." ("But I can find no words . . ."). Example

II, mm. 779f.

b r-er

v

;

t^^-

186

¿w

A-ber

-g—y— q*

i—1— i i 5* » 11 i

ich fin-de kei-ne

»i tZZ

Wor-te

fiir die Be - wun-de-rung

1— 11 1 p ""—

-—'

The complementary set forms P n and I n+2 share the same pentatonic-scale segment. A sequence of Segments A and B of set forms thus paired is illustrated in Example 187.75 It is characteristic of Berg's personal twelve-tone idiom, as opposed to Schoenberg's and Webern's, that he does not feel obliged to complete each statement of the set with its remaining segment. 75 The published score and Berg's fair copy have ek w h e r e I have added a flat sign in parentheses to e. The Particell shows e\>, as is required by the structure of the set.

181

The Musical L a n g u a g e

182

Example 187 II, mm. 78Iff. P

8

&

ho

P9

•

P

* ! 11

10 » 'o

P

11 » 'l

» 10

8

11

Jml. 10

11

In Example 1 8 8 1 have laid out Segment B as a segment of the Interval-5 cycle and derived Segment C through semitonal inflections of Segment B. This type of relationship between adjacent collections is an important characteristic of Berg's harmonic language in all his compositions. The basic harmonic progression of the Altenberg Lieder moves through semitonal inflection (Volume I, Ex. 6), and similar progressions in Wozzeck were illustrated in Volume I, Examples 1 4 8 , 1 4 9 , and 155. The extent to which a single interval class, the perfect fourth or fifth, dominates the segmental content of Countess Geschwitz's Trope is indicated in Example 188, and even goes beyond this where Segments A and C are joined to form a diatonic collection, as in Examples 60 and 61, since such a collection represents a sevennote segment of the cycle of fifths. At the beginning of Act II Lulu's Series and Countess Geschwitz's Trope are joined through this same collection, to give Berg an opportunity for a particularly subtle point of correspondence between music and action (Ex. 189). Lulu, referring to the flowers that Dr. Schön is admiring, says, "Die hat mir Fräulein von Geschwitz gebracht" ("Fräulein von Geschwitz brought them for me"). Lulu's Series is interrupted by a note that derives only from Countess Geschwitz's Trope, and Berg adds a stage direction at this point: "auf sie hinweisend" ("indicating her"). 76 Throughout the opera Countess Geschwitz's Trope is frequently doubled at the perfect fifth, the interval that plays such a predominant role in determining the content of each of its three segments; an example was cited earlier (p. 172, above). These characteristic parallel fifths mark the Countess's first appearance in 76 This is a good instance of the special difficulties faced by anyone who has the responsibility of editing this work for publication. In the published score the stage direction is slightly displaced, so that it begins on c instead of b. This is enough to eliminate the point of the composer's stage direction, which is not found in Wedekind. Example 189 corresponds to Berg's manuscript of the score.

Example 188

B

C

The Musical L a n g u a g e

Example I I , mm. 14ff. Lulu o

auf sie

hinweisend

Die hat mir Frau-lein von Gesch-witz

183

189

Ceschwitz

m ìì

ge - bracht.

O

H

bit - te.

Lulu's Series, I_

Z

m-

Countess Geschwitz's Trope, P„

„

the opera, at the beginning of the second act (Ex. 190). The final simultaneity of the parallel B segments of I6 and Ij serves as the A segment of the P3 set form, and the final simultaneity of the parallel C segments serves as the A segment of the I8 set form. The last occurs in its ordered variant (see p. 99, above). The cello binds all three components of the passage, moving from the last note of P3 through the paired I6 and Ij A segments to the first note of I8. It is characteristic of Berg's twelve-tone technique that a new five-note figure, not explicable as a segment of any given set form, is thus derived. Example

190

I I , mm. 6 f f . =

=L±±bm

w

Orch. ±\>M

• P Dr. Schön

Countess

Ceschwitz

At the beginning of the second scene of Act II, in the dialogue between Countess Geschwitz and the Acrobat, there is an extraordinary transition from the Acrobat's Chords to the Countess's pentachords in their characteristic doublings at the perfect fifth (Ex. 191). The outer notes of the Acrobat's tone-cluster

The Musical Language

184

Example 191

3 \ l

r

ft r

^

r

uns

u 1 - te r

f

die

r - de brir>gt,

\

0 5

H

4

=

1

r

^

L

i *

h

1

H

5

i

figure and their inversionally related fifths are converted into the initial dyads of simultaneous P and I statements of Segments C and B in turn. These segments of Countess Geschwitz's Trope occur independently of the set itself, not as components of statements of the set. They are another way of disposing of the same musical space that has just been outlined by the Acrobat's Chords. In the inversionally related B segments we even return to the white-key/black-key partitioning of that space. At the same time, the P/I dyads of Sum 10 that are unfolded in the note-for-note alignment of the inversionally related pentachords have a destination: the octave on / that introduces the reiterated chord of the penultimate bar of the opera, a musical foreshadowing of the Countess's ultimate fate which serves as the ironic setting of her words "Was uns unter die Erde bringt . . ." ("That which sends us to our grave . . ."). The P/I dyads of Example 191 are represented in number notation as follows: Diagram 10

—10 3

r L 7 — 0

9 2 8 1

5 10 0 5

3 8 2 7

2 7 3 8

10 3 7 0

8 1 9 2

5 10 0 5

3 8 2 7

1 6 4 9

5_

1 1 5J 5—1 5

The Musical Language The converging series of perfect fifths and octaves that marked the Countess's unexpected entrance at the moment of Dr. Schon's death return upon her unexpected entrance carrying Lulu's rolled-up portrait in the final scene, but the original non-symmetrical progression is converted into a symmetrical one, with the a-e (Sum-i) complementation of the initial chord maintained to the final e\>-b\> of the progression (Ex. 192). Together these boundary dyads are a prolonged statement of Cell I at its original transposition, the four notes that open the opera. The tritone of the initial a-e dyad is anticipated in Schigolch's call, "Herein" ("Come in!"), to the still unknown visitor whose approaching footsteps have been heard in the preceding eleven bars (Ex. 193). Those bars are worth special attention as an example of Berg's musico-dramatic technique. Schigolch's "Herein" is sung to the perfect-fourth component of Basic Cell IV. Where Basic Cell IV occurs at its primary pitch-level (Ex. 36), that component coincides with and often functions as the Signal Motive. The exceptional transposition of Basic Cell IV, at the very moment that its leitmotivic function—a function which has invariably been associated with the a\-A\> dyad—is explicitly verbalized, for the first and only time, points to the special importance of the tritone-related dyads b\>-e\> and e-a in the final scene. The emergence of this version of Basic Cell IV from a series of variant and distorted adumbrations, as Aiwa, Lulu, and Schigolch listen to the approaching footsteps of their unexpected visitor, is illustrated in Example 193. The diminished fourth or major third is substituted for the perfect fourth in mm. 880-882. When the perfect fourth of the motive finally appears in mm. 882-883, the lowest note of the diminished-7th component of Basic Cell IV is omitted. Schigolch's part unfolds the complete figure three times, at successive transpositions of the minor third, so that the diminished seventh collection remains unchanged, but the first statement is permuted and contains a passing note, the second is not permuted but still contains a passing note, and only the third gives us an authentic, unmodified version of Basic Cell IV. There is a simultaneous progression to this last in the truncated statements of Basic Cell IV assigned to Lulu and Aiwa in mm. 885f., which takes us through two notes of one diminished-7th chord, three notes of a second diminished-7th chord, and finally to the complete statement of the remaining diminExample 192 I I I , mm. 8 8 8 f f .

>

0 t j F t < '

if

t

"jiT

y

—

e.

r

? ^m

k Ì7r aj —'Ay - r 3 1

i1

1 j j =H ^ nU

P f i

1

185

The Musical Language 186

Example 193

r'O . I& 4

-

=\ Nein,

f) y

r~

- t

[—"1

¡-I-

das ist

er

" fÌ

f p nicht.

Aiwa A—_

7c

töra Sv

—

,

—

— | . . 1 — M1 —J—J—J-

E r kommt zu - r ü c k .

Das

ist

je - mand

an - d e r s .

Wer mag das

P S iJIT^T E s kommt

je - mand

her - a u f .

éeÉ Ich

hör'

es

an

die T ü r !

Ich Schigolch

rr

Wahr-schein-lich

ein

gu - ter F r e u n d ,

m dem

er

hör'

Mm

uns emp- foh

es

len

auch!

hat.

Her-ein!

ished-7th chord. The first and second of these three partitions of the Interval-3 cycle have already been fully represented in the vocal parts for Aiwa and Lulu (mm. 877-883). In the orchestra, simultaneously, there is an unmistakable reference to the Medical Specialist's thirds that accompany Alwa's reminiscence near the beginning of I/3 (mm. 1100-1103), "Erste Szene: Der Medizinalrat. Schon faul!" This pseudo-recapitulation, however, is not a representation of the Medical Specialist's

The Musical Language 187

Example 194 I I I , mm. 890-895

—(-T

>.

•

iri

^

; fc te fe ji

dyadic version of the Basic Series (Ex. 84; the I 4 set form is represented in I/3, mm. 1100-1103), since Aiwa is mistaken in his supposition that the Medical Specialist's double, Lulu's first client, is returning. Instead, a series of six major thirds unfolds parallel segments of the cycle of perfect fifths, the interval characteristically associated with Countess Geschwitz. The tritone-related dyads of Basic Cell I, a-e and e\>-b\>, are the axes of symmetry of the Sum-i progression that accompanies the Countess's entrance (Ex. 192), i.e., they are the points at which the inversionally related simultaneous successions of perfect fifths and octaves intersect. The Sum-i progression is prolonged through the Countess's opening lines, terminating with a semitonal array that returns to the initial axis of symmetry, a-e (Ex. 194). The special association between these tritone-related dyads and Countess Geschwitz here and elsewhere in the final scene is foreshadowed at the beginning of the third strophe of Dr. Schon's Aria in II/i. That strophe commences with the version of Basic Cell I illustrated in Example 172 (m. 421), but where Basic Cell I is interpreted as part of the Sum-i array at the Countess's unexpected entrance in III/2, it is interpreted as part of the Sum-7 array when Dr. Schon discovers her hiding behind the fire screen in II/i. The Countess's second and last entrance, after the death of Aiwa, is, like her previous entrance, accompanied by inversionally related B and C segments of her trope, doubled in parallel fifths, but 5 is now the sum of complementation (Ex. 195). From m. 1 1 2 0 to the downbeat of m. 1180 the bass line is consistently doubled in open parallel fifths. Each stage of the Countess's soliloquy as she contemplates suicide—the revolver (mm. 1146-1155), the river (mm. 1 1 5 6 - 1 1 6 3 ) , the knife (mm. 1164-1169), the noose (mm. 1170-1174!?)—commences with a scalar statement of the B and C segments of a prime form of Countess Geschwitz's Trope, doubled in parallel fifths (Ex. 196). The final dyad of each of these statements except the fourth is sustained to form the A segment of ordered P and I variants of Countess Geschwitz's Trope. The same pattern of set statements is transposed by ascending minor thirds until, at the conclusion of the telescoped final stage, the octave of the original statement is reached. As the Countess, "suddenly recalling something, drags herself in front of Lulu's portrait," ordered B and C segments of I 4 (mm. ^ 1 1 7 4 - 1 1 7 6 ) and I 1 0 (mm. 1 1 7 7 - 1 1 7 9 ) unfold against a pedal on each of their respective A segments—the same tritone-related dyads of Basic Cell I that marked the Countess's first entrance carrying the portrait, near the beginning of the final scene. The threefold "Erbarm dich mein!" ("Have mercy

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

188

on me!") that brings the soliloquy to a close unfolds a sequence of converging statements of the Picture Chords, inversionally related at Sum 1 1 (Ex. 80). The return of the tritone-related Sum-i dyads of Basic Cell I as Jack prepares to leave the garret after stabbing the Countess is prefaced by the overlapping b-d/ b\-e\ segment of the Sum-i array, marking the moment of the Countess's collapse (Ex. 197). At the conclusion of Ensemble III of III/i, Basic Cell IV is transposed through two of the four partitions of the Interval-4 cycle (Ex. 198). Since each statement of Basic Cell IV contains a partition of the Interval-3 cycle, all three partitions of the latter are comprehended in each partition of the Interval-4 cycle. The seven pitch classes required to complete the aggregate of twelve pitch classes in conjunction with each statement of Basic Cell IV are linearly ordered as scales, to unfold a counterfeit version of the Medical Specialist's ( = the Banker's) dyads (cf. Ex. 84). Example 195 III,

mm.

1120-1129

B

4-C 1f:

B

t'

:

C

Example 196

III,

mm.

1146-1159

The Musical Language

Jack

^

|.r

Das

war

^ ein Stuck

Ar - beit!

Example

198

III, mm. 652ff. 8 -

-

-

-

-

LL»E

ÉÈ

fe-

fa tt

m

its

y

it*

a *

* —

The intervals of Basic Cell IV, in inverted order, unfold in the Notturno, the second of the Countess's three soliloquys. The ordered version of the Countess's Trope occurs four times, in successive descending minor thirds, and is then transposed through a descending perfect fourth, as follows: I 4 , Ij, I 10 ,1 7 ,1 2 . Clearly, a comprehensive catalog of the twelve-tone sets of the opera Lulu must include not only the basic tropes, the Basic Series, the representative sets of the dramatis personae, and the various incidental sets, but all the interval cycles as well. TONALITY: STRUCTURE AND PROGRESSION

If the fixed dyad of the Signal Motive, a\>-d\>, "does not establish the basic 'tonality' of the work as a whole," even though "it is the prevailing recurrent tone

The Musical Language

190

center t h r o u g h o u t , " w h a t is that "basic 'tonality' " a n d h o w is it established? Both the dramatic and the musical structure, in their largest dimensions, are implied in the three chords that bring the opera to a close (Ex. 199). I called attention to the implications of these chords in m y first article on

Lulu:77

The three concluding chords of the final act epitomize the fate of the three persons most profoundly involved with Lulu, the only ones whose largeness of character lifts their fate from the level of the merely gruesome and grotesque to that of Greek tragedy, the only lovers of whom Lulu cannot say, as she does of her husband in Act I, Scene 2, "He sees nothing, he is blind, he knows nothing about me"—Dr. Schôn, the man of affairs, the powerful newspaper publisher, unable to sever a relationship that threatens at every moment to overwhelm him in a fearful public scandal; his son, Aiwa, the poet, who, although he succeeds in writing his "interesting opera" about Lulu, is unable to sublimate his sinful passion for the woman who has been his foster sister, his stepmother, and his father's murderess; the Countess, whose abnormal love for Lulu is doomed to frustration, but who is moved by this love to perform incredible acts of self-sacrifice, dying at last in a vain attempt to save Lulu's life, after "having borne the most fearful torments of soul with stoical composure" [Wedekind 52, p. 214]. The e-a-clt of the first of the three final chords of Act III is the initial segment of Dr. Schôn's Series at its principal pitch level. This chord concludes Act I, as the curtain falls upon the final episode of Scene 3, in which Dr. Schôn writes, at Lulu's dictation, a letter to his fiancée breaking off their engagement; it introduces Act II as the curtain rises upon the luxurious interior of Dr. Schôn's home, with Lulu in her new role as his wife rather than his mistress. The second chord converts Dr. Schôn's major triad into the minor triad with which Alwa's set, at its principal pitch level, begins. This chord is the final detail of Act II, concluding the love duet between Aiwa and Lulu, who has come to him after her escape from prison; the same chord introduces Act III, which opens in Paris, where Aiwa and his mistress have fled in order to evade the police. The final chord of the opera converts Alwa's minor triad into the first three notes of Basic Cell II [Ex. 53], a motive which coincides in content, as we have seen, with the main [pentachordal] segment [C] of Countess Geschwitz's Trope [Ex. 54]. The dying Countess, stabbed by Jack the Ripper, is alone. In an adjoining room lies Lulu's corpse. The music consists of various transpositions of Countess Geschwitz's Trope and of Basic Cell I. Together with the Countess's final words, "I am near you—will stay near you—in eternity," the bass line of Ex. [200d] appears, a final statement of the main segment of Countess Geschwitz's Trope in its "home key," the equivalent of Basic Cell II, which, as a harmonic structure [i.e., the progression from the penultimate to the ultimate chord], concludes the opera. Example 199

ft

fr

Example 200 s h o w s h o w the conclusion is eventually taken over b y C o u n t e s s G e s c h w i t z ' s Trope. E x a m p l e 200c is, once again, a conjunction of P a n d I f o r m s that share the same A segment (cf. Exx. 5 7 , 1 7 0 , and 186). T h e B a n d C s e g m e n t s of P7 (Ex. 200d), the principal f o r m of C o u n t e s s G e s c h w i t z ' s Trope, occur i n d e p e n 77 Perle 59, JAMS.

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

dently of the set as a whole. The replacement of the perfect-fifth segment of P7 (g-d) by its T(2) transposition in the final bars, so that it is absorbed into Segment C of Countess Geschwitz's Trope, creates the effect of a long-range cadential resolution at the conclusion of the opera. Perhaps nothing else so decisively demonstrates the radical difference between Berg's concept of twelve-tone composition and Schoenberg's. Example 200

Trope III b

III, mm. 1321-1323 I

11

p

c

o

ixyi

" 1r

c B c ountess Geschwitz's T rope

b

r 'r

»ir 7

b

1

J

B

r

1=4

-e •6

A 111,

r

nm. 1324-1326 1,

A

L

B f£lF=

h

. 1;. «

t

* II « A

C L

1 » 1« b. ¡ = ^ =

p H

>

c

B

r n

j.

W

fH

" ' It'

J.

J J.

—f2

1*—^

j.

i Ili

•

=

=

h

\

i'

t

«

— * *

m

-

*

=•

191

The Musical L a n g u a g e

192

Example 2 00

III,

mm.

(continued)

1321-1326

b«

•

•

1 0 A

c

\H 4

FT#FF

JJ

1

r ^ 'J J i n J f Or) p g f c -

F

LJ

— J

1

-

e.

R—LI

V

k

„

.1

h W'

m n

V' P

i

r

^

n . 1

f

The interrelation of the penultimate chord with salient motivic details of the opera was illustrated in Example 150. Its dominant role in defining the tonal structure of the Circus Music—and thus of the Prologue as a whole, since the Prologue is framed by the Circus Music—was discussed in connection with Examples 146149. In the initial statement (mm. 9-16) of the Circus Music the vocal line commences with Alwa's Series at P9. The Circus Music returns at its original pitch level in its telescoped restatement at the end of the Prologue, but Alwa's Series in the vocal line is transposed to P4, its primary set form. These are the two forms of Alwa's Series that are maximally invariant, in respect to hexachordal pitch-class content, with the P„ form of the Basic Series that simultaneously unfolds in the orchestra (cf. Ex. 44). Moreover, the change to the P4 form of Alwa's Series gives added emphasis to the basic chord, f-e-a-c, in the restatement of the Circus Music, since that chord is completely contained in its initial hexachord, and associates Alwa's Series as closely as possible with the Acrobat's white-key and black-key tone-clusters that mark the conclusion of the Circus Music (cf. Ex. 93). The common hexachordal content of Alwa's Series at P4 and Dr. Schon's Series at I 9 (Ex. 46) associates Dr. Schon's Arietta, "Das mein Lebensabend" ("This, the evening of my life"), near the beginning of II/i, with its dramatic and musical counterpart, Lulu's Arietta, "Du kannst mich nicht dem Gericht ausliefern!" ("You can't hand me over to the police!"), addressed to the murdered man's son at the conclusion of the same scene. Between these two episodes, Alwa's P4 set is prominently exploited as a component of the Principal Theme of the Rondo Exposition (mm. 281286, 298-306), in the dialogue between Aiwa and Lulu that culminates in his

The Musical Language confession of love. When this same music is recapitulated near the conclusion of the following scene, as Aiwa passionately demands a kiss from the woman w h o has murdered his father, it is transposed to the semitone above (mm. 1069-1074), and it is only as the curtain falls on Act II that the tonal center embodied in the /e-a-c collection is restored.

193

The Circus Music is almost literally recapitulated as the Prelude to Act III (Ex. 201a), with the cadential statement of its "tonic" f-e-a-c collection incorporated not only into the white-key tone cluster of the Acrobat's Chords, as it was in the Prologue, but also into the P4 form of Basic Cell II. The Circus Music returns at

Example 201

»

III, mm. 1-5

T [P J ^

s

a wi

ff r

j

1 bit1

Fff

'

w

iJ

Li ' III, mm. 231-235

m zÀ "My

1 --1

f

# T

m

The Musical Language 194

the beginning of Ensemble II (Ex. 201b), with its initial bars disturbed by the substitution of fit for/4, a "dissonance" that is "resolved" by the equivalent transposition of the episode as a whole to the semitone above after the initial chord. An analogous procedure for the Refrain of the Circus Music in mm. 261-267, the substitution of e\> for the ek of the original f-e-a-c collection, leads to the corresponding transposition to the semitone below. The tonal coherence of the Circus Music derives not only from the cyclic unfolding of the f-e-a-c collection illustrated in Examples 146-148, but also from the directed motion of the outer voices, each of which outlines a whole-tone progression (Ex. 202). The resultant polarity is a characteristic feature of Lulu (see p. 86, above), and, to a lesser degree perhaps, of Wozzeck as well (see Volume I, p. 163). Numerous instances have been incidentally cited throughout the preceding pages, particularly in the section on "Cycles and Arrays." In some instances this directed motion unfolds a set statement, or a segment of one, as the bass line in Example 200d does. More often it may be identified with, though not necessarily derived from, Lulu's Series, where the directed motion is diatonic or whole-tone, or Schigolch's Serial Trope, where it is chromatic. Thus the representative sets of the two mythic characters of the opera seem to permeate its harmonic texture far more extensively than do any of the other sets. Example

.

Prologue, mm. f lOff. j

u r

r'l^ "r

v

202

r

-j

a1 mJ'Ui .)' J

1

1

^

We have called attention above to the significant role in the final scene of the 78 b\>-e\>-e^-a motive that opens and closes the Prologue: its conversion into the axes of symmetry and boundary dyads of the converging perfect fifths that mark the Countess's entrance with Lulu's portrait (Exx. 192 and 194), and its conversion into the perfect-fifth segments of the I 4 and I 10 forms of the ordered variant of Countess Geschwitz's Trope (p. 187, above) as the Countess drags herself before the portrait after her desperate contemplation of suicide, with a final plea to Lulu, "Lass mich nur einmal, zum letztenmal zu deinem Herzen sprechen!" ("Let me speak just one time, for the last time, to your heart!"). The latter passage (mm. pf 1174-1179) is recapitulated at the beginning of the Countess's final soliloquy, "Lulu! Mein Engel! Lass dich noch [einmal sehn]!" ("Lulu! My angel! Let me see 78 Cf. Jarman 80/81, PRMA.

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

you [one more time]!"). The Countess's Notturno commences with the same pair of dyads (Ex. 203): the b\>-e\> is sustained from the recapitulation, in the two preceding bars, of the tremolo figure that immediately preceded Jack's entrance with Lulu (cf. Ex. 118), and that now immediately follows his exit with her; the a-e is the A segment of the ordered I 4 variant of Countess Geschwitz's Trope. Example 203 III,

in. f 1278

—bf

^•""j

Q^T—

1

LJ 3

—

ir_

*m ^

—

This same fixed collection of pitch classes that serves as such an important tonal link between the beginning and the conclusion of the opera is assigned a salient role at the midpoint of the work as well. In the Film Music, mm. 670-674 (Ex. 104) and (in retrograde) mm. 700-704 (Ex. 219), it is extracted—in the T(6) transposition of its initial pitch-level—from statements of the Basic Series, Dr. Schon's Series, Alwa's Series, the Schoolboy's Series, Countess Geschwitz's Trope, and the Acrobat's Series. The b\>-e\>-e!l-a figure that enframes the Prologue occurs as a segment of a complete statement of Trope I in the principal one of its two forms (cf. Exx. 204 and 31a). (We will refer to this as "Trope la.") The instances we have cited from the Film Music and from the final scene occur independently of the complete trope, but at the most critical junctures of both the film and the closing episodes of the drama, the same cell joins its T(2/8) and T(4/io) transpositions in explicit and signal statements of Trope la: at the climactic moment of the trial, with the Verurteilung marked by the last segment of the trope, and the corresponding point in the second half of the film, the inception of the Befreiungsaktion; and at the twelvetone chord at Lulu's Todesschrei, and the linear unfolding of its three segments as the Countess frenziedly rattles the bolted door of Lulu's room, only to be stabbed herself immediately upon the completion of the trope. Two dramatically crucial statements of Trope la are assigned to the vocal line: Lulu's desperate appeal to Aiwa at the conclusion of II/2, and her appeal to the Marquis in the first duet of III/I (Ex. 35). It is only in the final scene that the b\>-e\>-ek-a segment of Trope la is explicitly associated with the Countess. The c-f-fH-b segment is similarly identified with Lulu in the same scene. It is to these notes that she cries out, when Aiwa tries to restrain her from going out into the street after the Countess's arrival with the portrait, "Ich bring mich um. Ich halt's hier nicht mehr aus" ("I'll kill myself. I can't bear it here any longer"). The same transposition of Basic Cell I occurs as a component

195

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

196

Example 204

of Trope III when she finds herself alone with Alwa's corpse a moment before she rushes out into the street for the last time (III/2, m. 1101). It punctuates her return from the street with Jack, and her last exit, followed by Jack. And it is, finally, to these same four notes that she cries out as Jack draws his knife. Basic Cell I at this pitch level is a "fate motive," a function explicitly assigned to it at the close of Act I, where it serves as the cadential bass line of the final statement of the Closing Theme of the Sonata, in association with Dr. Schon's "Jetzt kommt die Hinrichtung." If the first and third segments of Trope I in the version illustrated in Example 204 come to be associated, in the course of the work, with the Countess and Lulu respectively, what of its middle segment? It does not seem unreasonable to discover a connection between this second statement of Basic Cell I and Dr. Schon. Just as b\>-e\> and e-a may be interpreted as P/I dyads of the Sum-i array that significantly characterizes much of the Countess's music in the final scene, so may glt-cH and d-g be interpreted as P/I dyads of the Sum-9 array that unfolds the inversional relations characteristic of extended sections of Dr. Schon's Strophic Aria in II/i. We have already demonstrated the important role of the paired d-glgtt-clt dyads in the first and fourth strophes of the Aria (pp. 169 and 173, above), each of which commences with these Sum-9 dyads of Basic Cell I. In mm. 453ft. of the fourth strophe, as Dr. Schon again presses Lulu to take the revolver, the same pair of dyads are derived from the initial adjacency of each hexachord of the I x form of Dr. Schon's Series. Perhaps one may even go so far as to suggest that the P8 form of Dr. Schon's Series, to which Douglas Jarman attributes such special importance (see. p. 132, above)—a set form whose respective hexachords commence with these same adjacencies (Ex. 205)—may also be associated with the middle segment of Trope la. Basic Cell I at this same pitch level brings the Countess's Notturno to a close, as she, and we, wait in silence before the locked door of the adjoining room. The Countess's last line in the Notturno, "I must fight for women's rights, study law," has come to rest on d , repeated against the sustained A segment, g-d, of the I 2 form of her set. The remaining dyad of Basic Cell I is pro-

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

vided in the clt-gH pedal of the "Irrsinn" Leitmotiv, which is transposed to a pitch level that also gives us the repeated ftt-b of the remaining segment of Trope la, which will be completed in the following bar with Lulu's cry, "Nein, nein!" The four P10 statements of Basic Cell II that unfold simultaneously with Trope la in the opening bars of the Prologue (Ex. 204) comprise three statements of an invariant five-note segment of the principal form, P4, of Dr. Schon's Series (Ex. 206). Through Trope la (Ex. 207) the Prologue, which Berg composed after completing all three acts, refers in its opening bars to the last three participants in the action, in reverse order: first, Countess Geschwitz, the last person we see in the opera; then Dr. Schon, in the person of his double, Jack the Ripper; and, last, Lulu, the third-to-last in the opera. Example 205

Example 206

7

__J

• "

y^ L

•

,

Example 199 illustrates the ordered tonal structure that governs the opera in its largest dimensions. In the relation between the P10 form of Basic Cell II and Trope la that is projected in the first three bars (cf. Exx. 204 and 207) we have an example of the way in which an ordered tonal structure may govern its smallest dimensions. Example 2•• m —«J

•

fi ~it -fe

•

\

.1 •—it"—c a—k*

208

201

»

^—,

;

.

1» m

*

fc»

the two sets. It becomes, rather, a means of establishing long-range harmonic relationships within a complex and changing large-scale context (cf. pp. 96 and 192, above). Local set-form association through invariant hexachordal content is illustrated in Example 209. The content of the second hexachord of the P9 form of the Basic Series (mm. i4f.) is permuted in the second hexachord of the I 6 form (mm. (fi6f.). The latter is cyclically permuted, so that, except for their interruption by the Acrobat's Chords, the two segments of identical content are juxtaposed. The Acrobat's Chords emphasize a melodic link between them, the skip from c to b\> that concludes the one and initiates the other. Dr. Schon's Series, in its cyclically permuted principal set-form (P4), is introduced at m. f'20. Twelve-tone aggregates cannot be formed between the Basic Series and Dr. Schon's Series, since the respective set-structures do not permit total invariance (Ex. 210). The linear succession of the second hexachords of the two sets in mm. [J18-20 associates them through their maximum intersection, five shared pitch classes. In Example 210 hexachordal relations of maximum invariance between the Basic Series and Dr. Schon's Series through non-corresponding as well as corresponding segments of the respective sets are illustrated. In mm. 19-20 of Example 209 the two series were associated through corresponding hexachords. In Example 2 1 1 they are associated through non-corresponding hexachords. Five pitches of the second hexachord of the P 0 form of the Basic Series are repeated in a different ordering in the first hexachord of the Pj form of Dr. Schon's Series. The Basic Example Prologue, m. 13

209

17

16

15

14

n Acrobat's Chords

Basic Series, P, 9 18

20

19

6 7 8 9 Basic Series, I . 21

M -

0.. .

(0)

6-11 0... Dr. Schon's Series, P.

10

11

The Musical Language

202

Example 210 Dr. Schön's Series, P^

p f r "rl±j" ' f ^

6

7

8

9

10

11

0

1

2

3

4

5

Series is here assigned to the voice for the first time. It appears in its principal setform, P0, and in its normal contour, to the text, "Es ist jetzt nichts Besondres dran zu sehn" ("There's nothing special to be seen now"). The statement of Dr. Schön's Series that follows reorders the shared hexachordal pitch-class content: "Doch warten Sie, was später wird geschehn" ("But just wait and see what happens later").89 Example 2 1 1 Prologue, mm. 63ff. Basic Series, P.

r

Es ist jetzt nichts Be - son- dres dran zu sehnV

Dr. Schön's Series, P,

Doch

m

war-ten Sie, was spä-ter wird ge-schehn.

In Example 209 three serial set-forms, P9 and I6 of the Basic Series and P4 of Dr. Schon's Series, are associated through maximum hexachordal invariance; i.e., there is total intersection of segmental content between the two forms of the Basic Series and five-element intersection between the one form of Dr. Schon's Series and each form of the Basic Series. These relations between the Basic Series and Dr. Schon's Series are illustrated in Example 210, which includes the I0 form of Dr. 89 I described this association between the two set forms in Perle 68, p. 148 (Perle 81a, p. 142), without taking note of the text, the relevance of which was brought to my attention by Douglas Jarman.

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e Schon's Series as well, a form that displays maximum invariance through noncorresponding hexachords with the P9 and I6 forms of the Basic Series. The passage represented in Example 209 is immediately followed by overlapping statements of the two forms of Dr. Schon's Series, P4 and I0 (Ex. 212). Together with these there appears a statement of the first hexachord only of the I 3 form of Dr. Schon's Series. This occurs as an explicit motivic inversion of the first hexachord of P4 as given in the cello (the Leitmotiv of "the tiger's leap"). In content it duplicates the total content of a hexachord contained within the P4 form of Dr. Schon's Series, rather than that of a boundary hexachord as in the preceding examples (Ex. 213). The juxtaposition of inversionally related forms of the Leitmotiv of "the tiger's leap" reflects the sense of the text: "Sie sehn den Tiger, der gewohnheitsmassig, Was in den Sprung ihm lauft, hinunterschlingt" ("You'll see the tiger—whatever comes within range of his leap, he's in the habit of gulping down"). The concept of set-form association through hexachordal segments of invariant content is the converse of what Babbitt calls "combinatoriality," 90 set-form association through the formation of twelve-tone aggregates. If, in Example 208, we replace I 2 by its retrograde, corresponding segments of the paired set forms will unfold different orderings of the same pitch-class collections; if, in Example 46, we replace the P4 form of Alwa's Series by its retrograde, corresponding segments will not intersect at all as to pitch-class content, and will thus form twelvetone aggregates. The significant distinction between Examples 208 and 46 is that in the former the associated set forms represent one and the same series, while in the latter each of the associated set forms represents a different series. Schoenberg's combinatorial relations require a special series, one whose aggregate-form90 See the article "Set," by Lansky and Perle, in The New Grove 80.

Example 212 Prologue, m . 0 20 P

21

( 22

f* 2 3

4

ti* g m.p- 21

I»

22

23

=1 m.p p 22

m . P 22

23

23

P 23

'o > P

24

203

The Musical Language

204

Example 2 1 3

Ég

Prologue, mm. 21ff.

"i r

ing potential derives f r o m the invertibility of each hexachord in the pitch-class content of the other. The properties that d e p e n d u p o n the hexachordal organization of a given ordered set will be shared by all other orderings of the same hexachordal pitch-class collections. Where a set is defined only in terms of its relative hexachordal content, the 479,001,600 permutations of the semitonal scale are reducible to just thirty-five tropes,91 o r — u s i n g the term in the special sense assigned to it b y Babbitt—source sets, a n d , of these, nineteen will be based on mutually invertible hexachords. A further classification characterizes six of the nineteen combinatorial tropes as all-combinatorial, which is to say that the two component hexachords of each will be transpositionally as well as inversionally related. Tropes partitioned into three tetrachords or four trichords m a y be differentiated b y analogous principles of set structure and set-form association. Schoenberg's concept of the aggregate as a basis for the pairing of inversionally related set f o r m s thus eventually leads to significant—indeed, essential—generalizations respecting the tone material of twelve-tone composition. N o such meaning is inherent in the association of the respective f o r m s of Dr. Schon's Series and A l w a ' s Series illustrated in Example 46. Each of these is one of the 518,400 (6! x 6!) permutations of the same non-combinatorial trope. The t w o hexachordal collections are neither transpositionally nor inversionally related. Where independent series are derived from a single trope, invariance of s e g m e n tal content does not d e p e n d on set (segmental) structure. In E x a m p l e 2 1 3 , inversionally related f o r m s of the same ordered set, Dr. Schon's Series, share invariant hexachordal content, but the respective set f o r m s are not correspondingly parti91 See Perle 81a, Appendix. The term trope comes from Hauer 25 and 26. Inversionally related tropes that do not share the same hexachordal content are in Hauer's system regarded as non-equivalent. He thus arrives at forty-four, rather than thirty-five, hexachordal tropes.

The Musical Language

tioned. The composer has observed that overlapping segments of Dr. Schon's Series, Order Nos. 0 - 5 and 4-9, are inversionally related as to pitch-class content, and he exploits this incidental feature in a special context. (Berg's exploitation of this relation as it affects Order Nos. 0-4 and 5 - 9 has been discussed above, pp. 172 and 179.) It is nevertheless Berg, rather than Schoenberg, whose work shows an awareness of the hierarchical implications of the different types of set structure, and of the special meaning of the all-combinatorial sets in particular. The Basic Series is such a set. It is a representation of one of six tropes in which a self-invertible collection of six notes is transposed to produce the remaining six notes. 92 Tropes I, II, and III and Schigolch's Serial Trope are tetrachordal sets based on three of the six analogous four-note collections. 93 The special harmonic properties of these five sets (see pp. 89f., 93f., and i02f., above) depend on principles of the largest relevance for post-diatonic music in general. In Example 208 the P9 and I 2 set forms of Schoenberg's Violin Concerto are paired to form twelve-tone aggregates. The transposition of either set form will necessitate the identical transposition of the other, if the principle of aggregate formation is to be maintained—as it always is in Schoenberg's combinatorial works. At the beginning of the second movement, for example, the two set forms are transposed to P4 and I 9 , respectively. The difference between the respective pitch-levels of the inversionally related set forms remains the same. The opposite principle is represented in several of Webern's works: each transposition of one form of the paired P/I set forms is matched with an equal transposition, in the opposite direction, of the inversionally related form, so that the sum of transposition numbers of the two remains the same. In the first movement of the Quartet, Opus 22, for example, P and I forms are paired as follows, to maintain a single sum of complementation: Diagram 1 1 Pi li,

P7 I5

P, In

Pio P11 I 2 II

Ro Rio

Po Io

Ri P7 RI11 l 5

Pi

Ri Rln

Every pair of these inversionally related set forms will unfold one or another permutation of the same (Sum-o) collection of P/I dyads: c ell d e\> e f fit c b bb a gtt g fit This procedure significantly extends the concept of inversional equivalence, a concept which Schoenberg's twelve-tone system explicitly formulated, for the first time, as a precompositional postulate, analogous to the traditional concept of transpositional equivalence as one of the fundamental premises of a new musical language. In Lulu w e find a still further generalization of this concept, in the main92 Perle 81a, Ex. 160.

93 Ibid., Ex. 161.

205

The Musical Language 206

tenance of a single axis of symmetry for inversionally related forms of a variety of compositional elements. For example, in II/i, mm. 4x6-446 of Dr. Schon's Aria, the opening and closing bars of the Lied der Lulu, and the final strophe of Dr. Schon's Aria, w e find P/I dyads of Sum 7 unfolded through Basic Cell II, Dr. Schon's Series, Basic Cell I, Countess Geschwitz's Trope, the Basic Series, and the "fourth-chord" array (see pp. 172-178, above). We can see n o w h o w mistaken w a s the once prevalent v i e w that attributed the relative accessibility of Berg's twelve-tone music to a retrogressive and unsystematic approach to the materials and procedures of twelve-tone composition. M u c h too much has been made of Berg's occasional borrowing of characteristic surface details of traditional tonality—the " D minor" segment of the principal set form of Der Wein, the overlapping triads of the tone row of the Violin Concerto, the triadic twelve-tone sets supposedly derived from the Basic Series of Lulu. If there is an affinity with tonality it is one that exists on a far deeper and more comprehensive level and leads to a more rather than a less systematic exploitation of twelve-tone procedures; it is one that Schoenberg himself invoked in explaining the origins of the twelve-tone system in the desire "for a n e w procedure in musical construction w h i c h seemed fitted to replace those structural differentiations provided formerly b y tonal harmonies." 9 4 The unfolding of a single axis of symmetry b y different twelve-tone sets represents a more systematic approach to the revolutionary concept of inversional equivalence than its restriction to a single pair of complementary set forms, as in Schoenberg, or to all the correspondingly related complementary set forms of a single series, as in Webern. The association of set forms through partially invariant, as well as totally invariant, collections represents a more systematic approach to the concepts of invariance and aggregate formation than the all-or-nothing combinatoriality of Schoenberg's twelve-tone compositions. The implications of twelve-tone composition are summarized as follows in a recent article: Perhaps the most important influence of Schoenberg's m e t h o d is not the 12-note idea in itself, but along w i t h it the individual concepts of permutation, inversional symmetry and complementation, invariance under transformation, aggregate construction, closed systems, properties of adjacency as compositional determinants, transformations of musical surfaces through predefined operations [as in the cyclic array, for example], and so on. Each of these ideas b y itself, or in conjunction w i t h m a n y others, is focused u p o n with v a r y i n g degrees of sharpness in the music of such different composers as Bartok, Stravinsky, Schoenberg, Webern, Varese, etc. In this sense the development of the serial idea may be v i e w e d not as a radical break w i t h the past but as an especially brilliant coordination of musical ideas w h i c h h a d develo p e d in the course of recent history. The symmetrical divisions of the octave so often f o u n d in Liszt a n d Wagner, for example, are not momentary aberrations in tonal music w h i c h led to its ultimate destruction, but, rather, important musical ideas w h i c h , in d e f y i n g integration into a given concept of a musical language, challenged the boundaries of that language. 9 5

94 Schoenberg 75, p. 218. 95 Perle and Lansky, "Twelve-Note Composition," in The New Grove 80, p. 296.

The Musical Language These "important musical ideas" achieved their most comprehensive, far-reaching, and effective realization in the music of Lulu.

Rhythm and Tempo The most pervasive motive in the opera is not a melodic figure—not even Basic Cell I—but a rhythmic figure, the "fate rhythm" 96 (Ex. 214). In its most characteristic manifestations it is identified in the score by the symbol RH - , for Hauptrhythmus (chief rhythm), an adaptation from the symbol H - , introduced by Schoenberg to identify the Hauptstimme (chief voice). Berg first employs the symbol R H - in the Chamber Concerto, but Mark DeVoto has shown that the concept already plays a significant role in the Altenberg Lieder,97 and Jarman traces it all the way back to the three Mombert songs of Opus 2.98 There is a recurrent independent rhythmic motive in the Three Pieces for Orchestra (see Volume I, pp. l^i.), and in Berg's next work, Wozzeck, a rhythmic motive is given priority over pitch relations in defining the formal design of an entire movement, the "Invention on a Rhythm" (Volume I, pp. 174-182). The rhythmic theme is indicated in the score by Schoenberg's symbol, H - , and in a footnote it is identified by the term Hauptrhythmus. Example 2 1 4

r r n Though there are only a few passages in Lulu where the R H - permeates the entire musical texture as fully as it does in III/3 of Wozzeck, its structural and leitmotivic role dominates the entire work, instead of being limited to a single scene as it is in Wozzeck. In what we have called the "prologue to the Prologue," the first eight bars of the opera, there is no occurrence of the RH - , but the inception of the Circus Music is punctuated by this rhythmic figure. Examples 201a, 201b, and 1 5 1 show the third-act recapitulations of this initial statement of the "fate rhythm" as a component of the Circus Music. Each of the three chords of the large-scale progression that determines the overall "tonality" of the work (Ex. 199) unfolds a statement of the R H - in its normal ^ meter (I/3, mm. [1360-1361; II/i, mm. i - 2 f ; II/2, mm. [1149-1150; III/2, mm. 1324-1326). The largest dimensions of the musico-dramatic design (cf. pp. i9of., above) are thus bounded by a single element that remains unchanged. A five-part canon on the RTF for unpitched percussion instruments marks the death of the Painter (I/2, mm. 748-764); the shooting and collapse of Dr. Schon (II/i, 5 5 3 - 5 6 i f ) are marked by five successive statements of the R H - on the b\> pedal that provides the Sum-9 complement to the M of Basic Cell II (cf. p. 170, above); five statements of the R H - overlapping at successively 96 This designation, which aptly describes its dramatic function, was evidently first assigned to the basic rhythmic motive of the opera in Redlich 57a, p. 249, and 57b, p 194. 97 DeVoto 66, PNM. See also Jarman 79, pp. 149ff. 98 Jarman 79, pp. 148f.

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

208

shorter time-intervals mark the death of Countess Geschwitz in the last three bars of the opera. Lulu's last utterance before her Todesschrei (Ex. 215) is set to Basic Cell I in the "fate rhythm." The inverted form of the same motive marks the moment of truth, "Alles Lüge!" ("Everything a lie!") for the Painter (Ex. 216). Basic Cell I occurs in various rhythmic versions in the Film Music, mm. 670-674!° (Ex. 104), but at the moment of judgment (mm. ^674-676) each of the three Basic-CellI components of Trope la (Ex. 31a) unfolds a statement of the "fate rhythm." Example 2 1 5

III, mm. 1292f.

4 > j ^/j > , n n Nein,

nein,

nein, nein

Example 2 1 6

I, m. 724

In each of the instances cited above, the R H - occurs in its most characteristic form, with the minimal durational unit represented as an eighth-note and the final element represented as a dotted quarter-note. In our analysis of the thematic rhythm of III/3 of Wozzeck we spoke of "the inherent ambiguity of the final element" (Volume 1 , pp. i76f.). In asserting that the instances of the RH~ cited in the preceding paragraph are literally represented in Example 214 we assume that the durational values in the example are intended only to show the time intervals between attacks, so that it is immaterial whether the R H - actually unfolds the series of note values shown in Example 214 or that in Example 215. The final element of a purely rhythmic pattern is inherently ambiguous apart from a specific context, because its point of termination is defined by what follows it. The context in which the specific instances of the RH~ cited above occur implies a dotted quarter-note value as the final element, but instances in which another value is implied for that final element are also understood as representations of the RH - . Example 217 is therefore a more comprehensive illustration of the RH~ than is Example 214. (Most characteristically, however, the final element of the RH~ is assigned the explicit duration of a dotted quarter-note, as in Example 214.) Example 2 1 7

r r lT The numerous transformations to which the thematic rhythm of III/3 in Wozzeck is subjected (Volume 1 , pp. 1 7 5 - 1 8 1 ) do not include retrogression. In Lulu the problematical character of the concept of a retrograded rhythm is resolved

The Musical L a n g u a g e

through employment of two different versions of the retrograde-RH - . If we interpret the RH - as a series of durations, each end-point in the prime becomes an attack-point in the retrograde (Ex. 218a). If we interpret the RH - as a series of attacks, the duration of each element in the retrograde is determined by its distance from the preceding element, so that the ambiguity is shifted to the initial element of the original RH - . In determining the duration of the final element of what we will call the attack-type retrograde-RH - , Berg has taken the sum of durational values of the characteristic RH~, 10/8, as a constant, so that this second type of retrograde-RH - is assigned a dotted quarter-note as its final element (Ex. 218b). Example

218

a

r or r b

pr r r Both types of rhythmic retrogression are exemplified in the second (retrograde) half of the palindromic Film Interlude. In Example 104, six different series are each stated as an uninterrupted succession of sixteenth-notes. The Basic-Cell1 motive e-a-b\>-e\> is embedded in a different rhythmic version in each set form. When the same passage is retrograded in the second half of the Film Music, each element of the reversed statements of Basic Cell I will necessarily occur at the attack-point of the corresponding element in the original passage (cf. Exx. 104 and 219). The three statements of Basic Cell I that are assigned the RH - rhythm in mm. P674-676 do not derive that rhythm from any serial orderings. In the corresponding passage, mm. {696-700? of the palindrome, the four component note-values of each are simply stated in reverse succession." The first statement of a retrograde-RH - in the opera is of the attack-point type, at the rise of the curtain in the last bar of the Prologue. Apart from this instance, and the examples cited above where retrograde rhythms occur as a consequence of the palindromic formal design of the Film Music, the retrogradeRH - is restricted to the Monoritmica of I/2 and its telescoped recapitulation in III/ 2 100 The retrograde-RH is normally of the attack-type (and will be understood as such in the following discussion, unless otherwise indicated). The Monoritmica, including the three preceding bars (the Closing Theme of the Reprise of the Sonata Exposition) and the first ten bars of the following Interlude (a return to the 99 It was evidently in the course of composing the palindromic Allegro misterioso of the Lyric Suite that Berg came to appreciate the ambiguous character of rhythmic retrogression and that the operation could be understood as affecting either time-intervals between attack-points or durational values. See Green 77b, JAMS. 100 The priority of the "fate rhythm" as illustrated in Example 214 is strikingly confirmed in the seventh bar (m. 694) of the second half of the Film Music, which repeats the climactic statement of the RH as given in the corresponding bar of the first half (m. 680), instead of substituting for it the retrograde transformation.

209

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

210

Example 219

first statement of the Closing Theme), is a self-contained movement of 302 bars based on a continuously reiterated ground-motive, the RH - . In the enframing episodes the R H - determines the rhythmic shape of the Closing Theme of the Sonata (Ex. 220). Inclusive of the enframing episodes, the Monoritmica moves by successive stages from a tempo of J> = 76 (J= 19) to a tempo that is seven times that speed (J= 132), and then, in a gradual ritardando, back to the original tempo. The midpoint of this progression, J = 132 (mm. 833-852), marks the discovery of the Painter's corpse. The R H - occurs in its prime aspect and in its normal durational values except in connection with turning points in the dialogue between Dr. Schön and the Painter and in the unfolding drama. The Painter's outcry, " O Gott! O Gott!", marked "endlich verstehend" ("finally understanding") in the score, and Dr. Schön's response, "Kein 'O Gott!', geschehn ist geschehn!" ("No 'Oh God!' What's done is done!"), are accompanied by the first statement of the retrograde-RH - in the Monoritmica (m. 679). Dr. Schön continues: "Ich komme nicht hierher, um Skandal zu machen. Ich komme, um Dich vor dem Skandal zu retten" ("I didn't come here to make a scandal. I've come to save you from a scandal"). The opposition of these parallel sentences is reflected in the music: the first is set to Dr. Schön's Series in the prime and accompanied by the prime form of the RH~; the second is set to one of the very rare retrograde serial statements in the opera and accompanied by the retrograde-RH - . A retrograde-RH - is heard again (mm. r 695—6g6f) as Dr. Schön replies to the Painter's question, "Und woher kannte Doktor Göll sie denn?" ("And how did Doctor Göll come to know her?"). The exchange concerning the various names by which Lulu is known is accompanied by ascending segments of Schigolch's Serial Trope, each in the rhythm of the retrograde-RH - (mm. 710-716). The Painter's cry, "Alles Lüge!", an R H - statement of Basic Cell I (Ex. 216), is marked in the orchestra by the retrograde-RH - . Dr. Schön and the Painter speak simultaneously in the following bars, their words marked by simultaneous statements of both versions of the R H - in the orchestra (mm. 7 2 5 - 7 2 8 f ) .

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

Example

220

I , mm. 958-967 (= 6 1 5 - 6 2 4 )

P ™ f II

J

L.

The Painter's frenzy of despair reaches its climax in mm. 732-738. An uninterrupted succession of retrograde-RH - statements commences at this point and continues, as the Painter seemingly gains control of himself, through the next section. Though the latter, like every preceding section, is characterized by an increase in tempo, there is a lessening in activity as repeated notes and soft drumbeats take over the retrograde-RH - (mm. 739-747). The Painter leaves, presumably to speak to Lulu. A five-part canon on the original "fate rhythm" in unpitched percussion instruments marks his offstage suicide. Example 221 shows how the original form of the R H - is restored through what one could call a "rhythmic modulation" in the last three bars of the preceding section. With the ringing of the doorbell (m. 765), pitched percussion (four timpani and vibraphone) take over the R H - in a second five-part canon beginning at m. 766. A third canon, for four timpani, commences at m. 773. With Alwa's entrance a new fourpart canon commences, on repeated-note statements of the retrograde-RH - in the strings. Each of the four canons unfolds the R H - or its retrograde in the series of durational values shown in Examples 214 and 218a, implying a meter of ^ or | for the subject. The time-intervals between successive entries from one canon to the next are progressively shortened, not only because of the change of tempo (except at the commencement of the third canon), but also relative to the tempo. The interval is six quarter-notes for the first canon (mm. 748ft.), three for the second (mm. 766ft.), two for the third (mm. 773ft-), and one for the fourth (mm. 788ft.). The retrograde-RH" statements of the fourth canon overlap with the prime-RH - statements which conclude the third canon, as in Example 221, but another type of modulation occurs simultaneously here, from canonic imitation after two quarter-notes to canonic imitation after one. In Example 222, the numerals indicate the original order of entries in the third canon; the letters imply, first, a reinterpretation of this sequence as a succession of entries after one quarternote, and then, a substitution of the retrograde-RH - for the prime-RH - . The instrumental vehicle for the R H - progresses from unpitched percussion, to pitched

211

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

212

percussion, to purely rhythmic uses of pitches (repeated notes) in the strings and, eventually, the winds, and finally, in the last episode before the locked door is forced open (mm. 812-832), to overlapping statements of Alwa's Series, Lulu's Series, the Basic Series, and Dr. Schon's Series. 101 These unfold the RH~ in its prime form, while Dr. Schon's pounding on the locked door in the rhythm of the bass drum at the beginning of this episode gives us two statements of the retrograde RH~~. Example 223 shows how the latter overlap with prime-RH - projections of a scrambled version of the I 4 form of Dr. Schon's Series, the two hexachords of which are interchanged and reordered. Concurrent with this there is a statement of the P n form of Alwa's Series, which is hexachordally invariant, as to content, with the I 4 form of Dr. Schon's Series (cf. Ex. 46). 102 With the series of canons that commences in m. 748 the RH~ no longer serves merely as a ground-motive. As in III/3 of Wozzeck, it determines the rhythmic shape of almost every musical event from this point on through the discovery of the Painter's corpse in mm. 833-852, and then gradually returns to its more restricted functions as Aiwa, Lulu, and Dr. Schon recover their composure. But even where the rhythmic components are entirely, or almost entirely, determined by the RH~, the means employed in the Monoritmica of Lulu and the "Invention on a Rhythm" of Wozzeck are very different, as are the respective thematic rhythms themselves. The subject of the "Invention on a Rhythm" is far more multiplex in its metric implications, and its pattern is so assertive, special, and individual as to disorganize the melodic character of any series of pitches that serves as its vehicle. 101 Jarman 79, pp. 212ff., presents a summary of the musical material of each section of the first half of the Monoritmica, and of its dramatic content as well, and shows how "the motivic structure of the Monoritmica both illustrates and comments upon the developing course of Schon's verbal argument." 102 This "scrambled" version of Dr. Schon's Series is presumably a representation of his state of mind as he pounds on the door in a rhythmic pattern that is synchronized with the rhythmic pattern assigned to the series. There is probably also an implied reference to Alwa's immediately preceding words, "No one . . . knows what to write!" (cf. p. 97, above). Example 221 I, mm. 7 4 3 f f . (J = 1 3 2 ) r

7 3

n r i>

>+

J1 r

J» J» 1

f

! ! . fjM-r

* J*

*

L J

*

J

f

—J» J*

—

! r L

r

—

1 ^

4

f

p \t+-

J* CJ"

f

*

1

J= 76

1* r

M

LT

1

The Musical Language

Example

I, mm. 783ff ( J - 86) * ) : ft,, .

7

ILT

J\f

> ^

f

r

\r

nr

(786/787)

nr

J = 96

7

F ' LT ' T D

P 1 T-Tf 1 - 4 ,

n r

r p

v

213

222

[): V

H

tj*

H

3

(H1 whn > (

> 1 ' * JA

d'

f>

—1

p*, n ^

Example

f

Id"

n

\ LT

r

223

RI . ( 0 - 5 )

11.(0-5)

Dr. Schon's Series

i t r C ,

r X

^

Alwa's Series

11L I, mm. 812ff. • ,.•> \>n"

£

Jn

m

TT

X I

L

m

T T 4-

- J L

7 i> t

X I _J L_

TT Jl

£

TT

i J i

It places the listener within Wozzeck's own hallucinatory state, which distorts everything that impinges on his consciousness. The "fate rhythm," on the other hand, can serve as a simple and natural rhythmic projection of Basic Cell I (Ex. 216), segments of Schigolch's Serial Trope (mm. 710-723), the Signal Motive (mm. 770-77if), or the Closing Theme of the Sonata movement (Ex. 220). Within the 97

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

214

bars of the "Invention on a Rhythm" the subject of that "Invention" (Volume I, Ex. 173) occurs in two different degrees of diminution and five different degrees of augmentation (Volume I, Ex. 175), several of these often unfolding concurrently. In the Monoritmica the RH~ maintains its normal minimum durational unit of an eighth-note throughout, except at the discovery of the Painter's corpse (mm. 833-852), which is marked by two statements of the RH~ in quadruple augmentation (each covering ten bars in \ time) that unfold concurrently with statements of the primary ^ form of the RH - . 1 0 3 (The absolute durations depend, of course, on the tempo, which is seven times faster here than at the boundary episodes enframing the Monoritmica.) In the first ten bars of the ritardando the "fate rhythm" is intensified in character in a variant derived by delaying the initial attack of the RH~ (Ex. 224). Retrograde-RH - statements accompany Lulu as she hurries over to Aiwa: "Ich kann nicht hier bleiben. Kommen Sie! Ich kann nicht allein sein" ("I can't stay here. Come! I can't be alone"). From Lulu's departure to change her clothes until her return, twofold statements of the RH~, paired by virtue of their dynamic character (Ex. 225), alternate between the small and the large tam-tam (mm. ^868-910^). This incessant pattern is invariant only in a relative sense, since the tempo gradually slackens during these forty-two bars from J = 192+ to J = 1 1 8 - . 1 0 4 Example

224

' iM n Example

a

-3—3-

225

4-4-

Upon Lulu's return in her street clothes, the ostinato figure in the tam-tam is interrupted at midpoint, after a single statement, crescendo, of the RH - . The tenbar palindrome that follows is bounded at its close by the retrograde diminuendo statement of the RH~ in the tam-tam. Since the tam-tam can only give us attack points, that retrograde will again be of the type illustrated in Example 218b. The two triadic R H - statements in the flutes (Ex. 109) and their literally transposed repetition in the bassoons are reversed in the second half of the palindrome to produce the first duration-type retrograde-RH - statements (Ex. 218a) in the Monoritmica. The palindromic procedure at this point reflects Lulu's rejection of any 103 See Example 34 for an analysis of the pitch content of these twenty bars. 104 Cf. Volume 1, pp. 181f.: "It seems to have occurred to no one except Berg that the integral units of a thematic or ostinato rhythmic figure may be paced at different rates of speed even within a single statement of that figure (as in Examples 183-185), so that in an absolute sense the given pattern is annihilated, while in a relative sense (i.e., relative to the concurrent changes in tempo) it remains inviolate."

The Musical L a n g u a g e

involvement in her husband's death and the recovery of her composure after its initial effect upon her. Measures 922-927, commencing at a tempo of J= 106, are a counterpart to the section that is assigned the same metronome marking in the first half of the Monoritmica, mm. 724-731. A prime form of Lulu's Series marks the opening bars and an inverted form the closing bars of both, and the Painter's outburst, "Alles Lüge!", has its unconsciously ironic parallel in Lulu's words, "Es ist ihm wohl ein Licht aufgegangen" ("I suppose the light dawned on him"). 105 All three versions of the RH~ appear here (Ex. 226), the two retrograde forms of the "fate rhythm" accompanying Alwa's words, "Er wollte seinem Geschick nichts schuldig bleiben" ("He didn't want to be indebted to his destiny"). The usual attack-type retrograde-RH - accompanies Dr. Schön's spoken words in his telephoned report of the suicide to the police, "Hals durchschnitten—mit dem Rasiermesser" ("throat slit—with the razor"). A final retrograde-RH - statement marks Dr. Schön's outburst, "Ungeheuer!" ("Monster!"), in response to Lulu's remark after she wipes the blood from his hand, "It doesn't leave any marks." Example

226

I, mm. 922ff. (vibr.)

(winds, harp)

(str., pno.)

m Concurrent statements of the RH~ in its basic ag meter in the harp and in double diminution (]j?) in piano and triangle mark Lulu's first entrance and exit (Prologue, mm. 42L and f66f.). The rhythmic pattern assigned to the piano (and doubled in the triangle) in mm. 42f. is illustrated in Example 227. The final element of the RH~ in m. 42 is followed by five evenly spaced attacks, separated by the same durational value (Ji.). These become components of two overlapping statements of the RH~ in conjunction with the inception of Lulu's Entrance Music in m. f '43 and the Clown's strokes on stage cymbal and bass drum. 105 Wedekind assigns this statement to Aiwa. Berg's reassignment of these words to Lulu and his shifting of their original position in the play are characteristic of the revisions to which he subjects Wedekind's text and the subtle changes in implication and structure that result therefrom.

215

The Musical Language 216

Example 227

A variant form of the "fate rhythm" is identified with the Medical Specialist, whom we meet only at the moment of his death. The principal RH~ in 1 : 2 diminution (Ex. 228a) is modified through the lengthening of its second element from three to seven units (Ex. 228b). The principal RH~ regularly occurs in contexts that enable us to assign a characteristic durational value to its final element; the Medical Specialist's variant does not, and therefore we can only represent its final element as an attack-point rather than as a specific durational value. A statement of the Medical Specialist's R H - in the bass drum marks the instant of his arrival at the door of the Painter's studio (mm. 196-198); overlapping statements of the variant RH~ in timpani and drums mark his attempt to force the locked door open (mm. ^200-211); two statements of the variant RH" on a pedal point in the harp mark his entrance and collapse (mm. 212-218); a two-part canon on the variant R H - between harp and voice marks the Painter's halting attempt to address the dead man (mm. 220-226); successive statements in different registers of the harp accompany the interchange between Lulu and the Painter and terminate with his departure to send for a doctor (mm. 233-248). The variant R H - is heard again upon the Painter's return (mm. 284-289), but in his subsequent soliloquy, when he is left alone with the dead man as Lulu dresses herself in the adjoining room, it is at last replaced by the principal R H - (mm. 329-339), which makes its first appearance at this point since the rise of the curtain at the conclusion of the Prologue. Example 228

b

J>. J

Ji

f L

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

The Medical Specialist's fate in the opening scene of the opera is presaged in the isolated statements of the variant RH~ that precede his entrance. Its first statement is assigned to a repeated fit in the violins, as the composer, Aiwa, comes forward at the beginning of the scene (m. 91). A second statement, unfolding a triadic set (Ex. 110a), and a third are heard in connection with Alwa's inquiry, "Aber wo ist der Herr Gemahl?" ("But where is your husband?"). The appearance of Schigolch's Serial Trope in the context of the references to Lulu's husband evoked by Alwa's inquiry (mm. 1 1 2 - 1 1 4 ) w a s explained earlier (p. 105). The derivation of Schigolch's Serial Trope from the Basic Series in these three bars (cf. p. 160, above) simultaneously gives us a serial derivation for the Medical Specialist's RH~. The modified Basic Series (Ex. 155b) unfolds as a succession of twelve sixteenth-notes, from which Order Nos. 0, 3, 10, and 1 1 are extracted to form Segment Z of Schigolch's set. The rhythmic pattern thus imposed on Segment Z is the Medical Specialist's RH - . (The procedure is similar to that which gives rise to the two rhythmic subjects of the Allegro misterioso in the Lyric Suite [Ex. 19]). Douglas Jar man has shown how the Medical Specialist's R H - is itself subjected to numerous free and subtle variations prior to its explicit exploitation as an ostinato in the Melodrama. "Many of the resulting transformations are far removed from the [Medical Specialist's] R H - from which they derive. The Medical Specialist's R H thus affects, and is absorbed into, the musical texture of the whole scene." 106 In the Monoritmica of the following scene, where the Painter asks Dr. Schon, "Und woher kannte Doktor Goll sie denn?" ("And how did Dr. Goll come to know her?"), there is a reference to the initial statement of the Medical Specialist's R H in the repeated ftt in the cellos. There is a further reference to the opening bars of the first scene in the simultaneous unfolding of a transposed statement of the triadic set of mm. 87-90 (Ex. 108), in the rhythm of the principal R H - (horns, mm. f693f.). The Medical Specialist's RH~is not heard again. When Aiwa, backstage at the theater (I, mm. i095ff.), reflects on the dramatic possibilities of Lulu's history ("Erste Szene: Der Medizinalrat"), the Medical Specialist's dyadic version of the Basic Series is projected in successive statements of the principal RH - . The music associated with the Medical Specialist in connection with the roles assigned to the same performer in III/i and III/2 does not include his variant of the RH - . The Canon in \ time between Lulu and the Painter is accompanied by a series of chords in a \ ostinato rhythm that gives us a second variant R H - , this one derived through a one-third reduction in the relative duration of the longer of the two note-values that make up the principal RH~ (Ex. 229). Percussion instruments give special emphasis to the downbeat of each \ grouping. The following Coda, in \ time, recapitulates the Introduction to the Canon, with each quarter-note value the equivalent, in real duration, of a complete \ bar of the Canon. The ostinato rhythmic pattern continues through the first three bars of the Coda, with its original tempo preserved through a one-third reduction in the notated values (Ex. 106 Jarman 79, pp. 165-67.

217

The Musical Language 218

230). The Canon is recapitulated in | time in the Interlude between Scenes 1 and 2, bringing with it a £ version of the variant RH~. A pseudo-accelerando achieved through the successive shortening of notated durational values and a pseudo-ritardando achieved by the opposite means are associated with the role of Countess Geschwitz throughout the opera. When the Countess is identified as the crocodile in the Animal Tamer's Prologue, the perfect-fifth segment of her set (Ex. 55), characteristically presented as a pedal point against the two remaining segments, unfolds the rhythmic figure illustrated in Example 231. Most typically, the rhythmic procedure affects each of the five-note segments of Countess Geschwitz's Trope, with the temporal distance between successive attacks progressively halved or doubled, or progressively altered by the subtraction or addition of a single durational unit. The extended unfolding of such a rhythmic pattern in the opening bars of Act II, where we are introduced to the Countess for the first time, is illustrated in Example 232. Two statements of the ritardando figure mark the Countess's leave-taking in mm. 36f. Complete statements of the accelerando-ritardando accompany her secret return after Lulu's exit with Dr. Schòn (mm. 1*88-91), her unexpected appearance at the moment of Dr. Schòn's death (m. 607), and her departure with Schigolch in the second scene of Act II (mm. |ff8i8-82o). The most consistent exploitation of the accelerando-ritardando figure as a means of characterizing the role of the Countess (we will call this "the Countess's Example 229

tf J.

J-

J> J-

I

J

J>

J

4 -L*

-L*

J J

-L*

Example 230

r~

~irr ¿ - l A , Example 231

Prologue, mm. 39ff.

i7—;

P

P

E±S±±3 rp

1

—

m

p

*

1

PP

T h e Musical L a n g u a g e

Example 232

219

II, mm. r* 5ff. »

~ P r

f —

q

h

h*.

Ì

^

J

IJ

j

r

—

J = J ^ r nf augmented, D major, Fit diminished, A minor, C augmented, E major. Beginning with the first segment, alternate segments unfold a succession of minor and major triads along the cycle of fifths, and thus suggest an analogy with the principal triadic relation of traditional tonality, root-progression by a perfect fifth. The analogy is a very limited one, however, in spite of the shared chordal vocabulary, since the tonal progression is based on the concept of root-generators and depends in its voice-leading connections on pitch duplications, neither of which is implied in the concept of a twelvetone row. The Principal Subject of the Andante commences with this progression of alternate minor and major triads (Ex. 240). The shared note of adjacent triads is repeated as a pivotal element from each chord to the next: Diagram 1 2

g b\>'d ftt a c'e gtt b' Example 240 P a r t I , mm. l l f f .

jte^j jt=j>J jfe^j k

If the familiar triadic collections are given in the series, another essential component of traditional tonality, the stepwise unfolding of scale degrees, is not. The series of the Violin Concerto thus differs markedly from Lulu's Series and the series on which Der Wein is based, each of which is associated with traditional tonality through the unfolding of diatonic stepwise motion (see pp. m f . and 29, above). Though the final whole-tone segment of the series of the Violin Concerto coincides with a four-note segment of the diatonic scale, the absence of semitonal adjacencies inhibits an aural association between series and scale through this intersecting segment. The composer compensates for the restrictiveness of the serially determined intervallic relations by exploiting the set in ways that are totally arbitrary with regard to the pitch-class ordering that defines the series. The latter is deducible from the composition itself only because it occurs as a straightforward melodic theme at certain strategic points in the formal design. Elsewhere Berg freely revises the serial ordering so as to contrive whatever melodic elements he may require: by omitting, doubling, or displacing individual pitches of the set; by permuting set segments, both internally and relative to each other, or by employing them in isolation from the set forms from which they derive; by intersect-

The Last Years ing and cyclically permuting combined set-forms;26 and by ignoring the set altogether, not only where preexistent music is quoted but at many other points as well. Example 241 illustrates the derivation in the second movement of a theme which twice recurs in the third. In m. 155 an eight-note segment (Order Nos. o 7) of the series is partitioned into the two tetrachordal collections formed by its alternate notes, segments of the Interval-7 and Interval-2 cycles respectively, a procedure foreshadowed in the ten-bar Introduction to the Andante. A third tetrachordal collection is formed by the last four notes of the series. In effect, the series is momentarily converted into a tetrachordal trope. In the second half of the measure the uppermost note, bk, is the only one that is not a component of the wholetone collection formed by the accompanying notes. A fifth note is included in that collection through the restatement of a component, d, of the first tetrachord. In m. 156 the set is segmented into two overlapping four-note chords and a five-note chord. In m. 157 it is segmented into three four-note chords, of which the last is completed in the following bar with a scalewise descent in the top line from b\> to its missing component, e\>. Even where the material is more directly derived from the series, invariance of segments among different set forms may result in ambiguous serial interpretations. Segments of Order Nos. 0-4 and 8 - 1 1 are, respectively, transpositionally equivalent, in regard to order as well as content, to segments of Order Nos. 4-8 and 9-0, at T(2) for the prime and T(io) for the inversion. Thus every set form holds a five-note and a four-note segment invariant in two other set forms, its T(2) 26 See Jarman 79, p. 140, a n d Green 81, p. 65. Example Part I , mm. 1 5 5 f f .

241

249

The Last Years

250

Example 241

(continued)

S

and T(io) transpositions. A compositional exploitation of this relation is illustrated in Example 242, the second statement (mm. 44-52) of the theme given in the uppermost staff of Example 241. The theme appears here in an entirely new serial context. The thematic notes are extracted from the series without regard to order, while the remaining notes of the series unfold in the accompanying parts (solo violin and harp). In mm. 46f. two series that share the above-mentioned invariant segments unfold simultaneously. The theme makes its last appearance in mm. 78-90, in a four-part canon that has no relation whatever to the series. Example

242

T h e L a s t Years

If w e regard the set as a circular structure, as the music invites us to do much of the time, we discover it to be inversionally symmetrical, with Order Nos. 1 0 - 4 of P or I inverted in retrograde in Order Nos. 4 - 1 0 and, correspondingly, Order Nos. 1 - 7 of R or RI inverted in retrograde in Order Nos. 7 - 1 (Ex. 243). This property establishes total invariance between P n and R I n + 4 , and, correspondingly, between I n and R n _ 4 , as illustrated below in the circular representation of the basic set form. Diagram 13 G

&

D

F

Fit

Et

A

CK

C B

E

Gl

A clockwise reading produces one or another cyclical permutation of P7 or R I n , a counterclockwise reading one or another cyclical permutation of I n or R 7 . 2 7 In general, Berg's compositional methods eliminate R and RI as independent set forms; here, as in the first movement of the Lyric Suite, they are eliminated as independent set forms by the set structure itself. Example 243 ——10

9

—— 1

P?

—»- 10

R

I

U

8

0

11 —

7

11

1

0 2

3

6

5

10

1 4

9

2

4 8

3 5

3

7

6

2 6

4

5

7

8

1 5

6 9

O i l 4

7

3

8 10

10— 2 , 1

9 11

I

n

R?

10—^ 0

1 —

A n exclusively twelve-tone analysis is even less adequate as an interpretation of pitch organization for the Violin Concerto than it is for any other of Berg's twelve-tone works. Jar man offers the following remarks on the large-scale tonal relations: The tonal implications of the set of the Violin Concerto, which at its primary level [Ex. 239] begins with a G minor triad followed by a D major triad, have a similar longterm structural effect on the overall plan of the work. The opening bars of the piece juxtapose the G minor area of the opening notes of the set at [P7] and a tonal area around B!>, the relative major of G minor. This juxtaposition (which is, to some extent, implicit in the structure of the set, since [Order Nos. 1 1 , o, 1 and 2] of [P7] together produce a Bl> major added-sixth chord which incorporates both a Bt major and a G minor triad) reappears in the chorale of the [last] movement and runs through the whole concerto. In the Bach harmonization which Berg uses [cf. p. 246,

2 7 I a m indebted to Bruce Archibald for suggesting this circular representation of the series.

251

The Last Years

252

above], the chorale starts in Bl> major and ends in G minor. The beginning of almost every main section of the piece is marked by a passage which opens on one of these "tonic" triads or on triads on D or F, the "dominants" of the original G and Bt triads. The works ends on the ambiguous B\> [added 6th] chord.28 We have repeatedly called attention in the foregoing pages to pitch-class centricity as a structural element in Berg's atonal and twelve-tone compositions, but the Violin Concerto is exceptional in the extent to which its tone centers refer to traditional triadic tonal concepts. We can derive these tone centers, the "tonic" triads of G minor and B\> major, from the series, but are not brought materially closer thereby to a coherent description of the overall serial procedures. Neither does an analysis in terms of traditional triadic structures and relations seem to offer more than a f e w elementary observations regarding the harmonic character of the work as a whole. Both approaches are equally problematic as explanations of the directed motion of a passage such as mm. 6 1 - 7 3 the first movement (Ex. 244). Example 244

m

P a r t I , mm. 6 1 f f .

1 —ta

s

1

'3

1

L X J

r r

-•H

" r

é

=4=

—

^

i>

J

L

f

—

^ —

We have shown how the set of the Violin Concerto may be partitioned in a variety of w a y s and employed as a trope; i.e., with the segment defined as a collection rather than a series of pitches, and the set defined as a collection rather than a series of segments. The distinction between retrograde-related set forms, P and R, or, correspondingly, I and RI, is thus eliminated. But since a circular interpretation of the series results in a symmetrical structure in which P is equivalent to RI, and in which R is equivalent to I, it also eliminates, for the trope, the distinction between P and I, and, correspondingly, between R and RI. If P = R and R = I and I = RI, then P = R, or I, or RI. The set complex of forty-eight forms for the general series, or twenty-four forms for the symmetrical series of, for example, the Webern Symphony or the first movement of the Lyric Suite, is reduced to the twelve transpositions of a single series (S) of the twelve pitch classes; the adja28 Jarman 79, pp. 102f.

T h e Last Years

cency relations determined by the precompositional serial ordering become exclusively a means of determining segmental content. This cyclically permutable and variably partitionable trope probably has at least as much to tell us about pitch organization in the Violin Concerto as the familiar "normal" version of the series. In assigning to the Concerto a place in the evolution of Berg's musical language, this generalized concept of the tone row is of more significance than the references in the latter to the familiar harmonic categories of traditional tonality. We can only surmise the implications, for Berg, of this radically new concept of the twelve-tone series and of the ambiguous and problematical serial and tonal organization of the Violin Concerto. The illness that was to lead to the composer's death evidently had its inception within days of his completion of the full score on August 1 1 . In the same month he wrote to Reich from the Waldhaus: "My pleasure in the liberation following the completion of the Violin Concerto was premature. A n insect sting exactly at the lower end of the backbone led—a crescendo lasting days—to a frightfully painful abscess that takes away all my pleasure. At the moment it seems to be subsiding, but it will probably take another week. So I continue in a resigned frame of mind with the instrumentation of Lulu."29 At the last moment Berg's plan to attend a performance of the Lulu Suite at the ISCM Festival in Prague on September 6 (he had not yet heard the work) had to be cancelled. (Perhaps Berg had refrained from attending the world première under Kleiber because of the political situation in Germany, but why did he also pass up the first Prague performance on January 19, as well as other performances in the same season in Geneva, Brussels, and London?) Letters from the Waldhaus to Helene in October speak of painful and persistent abscesses on his feet. The last letter to Schoenberg, from Vienna, dated November 30, 1935, describes his profound depression, due not only to the state of his health: Things are not going well for me. Badly in a monetary connection, because I cannot maintain my previous standard of living, inclusive of the Waldhaus (yet I cannot make up my mind to sell the place where in two years I did more work than in the previous ten). Badly as regards my health, because for months I have been having boils (I've still got them, which explains my horizontal position!). They began shortly after I had finished the concerto with an atrocious carbuncle resulting from an insect sting. This put paid to any possibility of an autumn recuperation period—which I rather needed after the summer's hard work and the preceding Lulu years. Finally things are bad morally, which won't astonish you coming from someone who suddenly discovers that he is not "indigenous" to his fatherland, and is consequently completely homeless [see Plate 23]. All heightened by the fact that such things do not proceed without friction and profound human disappointments—and these persist. But it is not for me to tell you such things, since you have been through it all on a gigantic scale, by comparison with which my experiences are pocket-sized. After all, I still live in my native land, and can speak my mother tongue. . . . 30

On December 1 1 , in spite of his severe illness, Berg attended the Vienna première of the Lulu Suite. A week later, on December 17, he was taken to the hospital, whence Helene Berg wrote the following letter to Alma Mahler Werfel, who was 29 Reich 65, p. 102.

30 Ibid., p. 103.

253

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in New York with her husband for Max Reinhardt's production of Werfel's The Eternal Road: Rudolfsspital, Dec. 2 2 , 1 9 3 5 My beloved Almschi, Our Christmas greetings will no longer come to you in time—but the preceding days have been so terrible that I haven't been able to give thought to anything else. Alban, who has been suffering from boils for four months, was suddenly taken so ill (a fever of 40 degrees) that we had to have a doctor. . . who sent him to hospital and ordered the dangerous places lanced. . . . Unfortunately, his condition became even worse. He had to be lanced again and was given a blood transfusion. The doctors suspect an abscess in the region of the kidneys, since his condition isn't improving and his temperature won't go down. He is very weak and being given whatever drugs are needed to strengthen his heart. In spite of everything, his mind is clear and he speaks of you and sends you both his best wishes and love. All good things for the N e w Year. In love and faithfulness as ever, Al-Hel [the joint signature of Alban and Helene] 31

Three days later Berg died, at 1 : 1 5 A.M. on Christmas Eve, just eight weeks before his fifty-first birthday. The Violin Concerto, with Krasner as soloist and Scherchen conducting, was introduced posthumously on April 19, 1936, at an ISCM Festival in Barcelona. Thus what Berg had presented to the world as a memorial to another became the composer's own requiem. What the world did not know was that Berg had planned the Violin Concerto as a requiem for himself, as well as for Manon Gropius—that he had taken advantage of the inherently ambiguous character of programmatic expression in music to conceal an alternative and equally authentic programmatic conception beneath the one that he had offered to the public. We know of no annotated copy of the Violin Concerto, but, as with the Lyric Suite, certain hints to the presence of cryptic references are given in several curious extrinsic details in the score: the inclusion of a bar-count in the first subtitle, "Introduction (10 Takte)"; the special expression marking assigned to each segment of the chorale melody and its consistent and invariable recurrence at every repetition of the segment, whether in Bach's harmonization or in Berg's, whether in its original aspect or inverted (except for the climactic canonic statement of the first six bars of the inverted chorale at mm. 184-190); certain manifestations of the number 23 in Part II—the first metronome marking and the bar-count of the whole are each a multiple of 23; the ostinato "fate rhythm" begins on m. 23; the first statement of the chorale, unfolding antiphonally between soloist and orchestra, is extended to a 23-bar unit through the addition of a coda and a "misterioso" closing bar in the solo violin; 32 the 23rd bar of the soloist's next entry is the "Höhepunkt" of the Adagio. We have long known of the special meaning of the number 23 for Berg. 3 1 Perle 80b, ÖMz. 32 Pernye 67, SM, p. 156. Pernye suggests that the closing note in the violin, a, represents the only pitch-class letter name in "Manon," and cites the "motto" of the Chamber Concerto as a precedent. If a musical cipher is intended in this 23rd bar of the chorale, it is more likely that it represents the initial letter of Berg's name. Cf. p. 257, below.

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Though it plays no such dominant role in the Violin Concerto as in the Lyric Suite, its role in Part II seems prominent enough to justify one in suspecting that there may be significant autobiographical references here as well. The explicit assertion of the number 10 at the very beginning of the work, the symbolism of which for Berg we have only known since the discovery of the annotated score of the Lyric Suite, seems to confirm the presence of such references. In his annotations in the Lyric Suite Berg identifies "our numbers"—his and Hanna's—as 23 and 10 respectively, and the bar-count, 230, of Part II of the concerto, like that of the Presto delirando of the Lyric Suite, is a multiple of both. We can make another analogy with the Lyric Suite: each contains quotations from two preexistent compositions. We know of the connection that Berg makes between Hanna and the quotations from Zemlinsky and Wagner, but what possible connection can she have with the Carinthian folksong and the Bach chorale? We are indebted to Douglas Jarman for raising these questions, and for answering them. 33 Berg is supposed to have "dated his fateful relationship to the number 23 . . . from the day (23rd July) of his first [asthmatic] attack," 34 but his attachment to this, rather than to some other coincidental association, may be attributed to the numerological theories of Wilhelm Fliess, a Berlin biologist and early mentor of Sigmund Freud. 35 According to Fliess, the affairs of men and women are governed by periodicities of 23 for the former and 28 for the latter. The number 28 plays the same special role in Part I of the Violin Concerto that the number 23 plays in Part II. Though there are numerous changes of tempo, only two metronome markings appear, J = 5 6 (2 x 28) for the first movement and J = 1 1 2 (4 x 28) for the second. "The bridge passage of the Andante begins at m. 28; the 'tempo primo' which marks the beginning of the codetta starts at m. 84 (3 x 28) and the 'ritmico' figuration of the Allegretto is first introduced at m. 140 (5 x 28)." 36 The Subordinate Subject of the Andante begins on the 28th bar of the movement proper (38 - 1 0 = 28). All three numbers—28, 23, and 10—are combined in various ways in the sectional bar-counts of both Part I and Part II. "The number 28 . . . appears constantly in the numerical calculations which cover the margins of Berg's sketches for the Violin Concerto. . . . Calculations based on multiples of 10 and 23 also appear in the margins of the sketches." 37 These numerological elements confirm the presence of autobiographical references in the Violin Concerto, but they do not tell us what these references are. Just as a more evident musical metaphor in Wozzeck and Lulu often masks the presence of a second, hidden metaphor, so the presence of a confirmed and acceptable program for the Violin Concerto has masked the presence of a second, hidden program. The chorale serves its purpose in the finale of the Violin Concerto not only through its musical character but also through an associated verbal text, even though in its instrumental execution as a component of the work the chorale is performed without its text. Berg did not identify his "Carinthian folksong," and it did not occur to anyone that an associated text—assuming that there 33 Jarman 82a, IABSN. 35 Jones 53, pp. 290f.

34 Reich 65, p. 26. 36 Jarman 82a, IABSN, p. 7.

3 7 Ibid., pp. 6f.

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w a s one and that the handler-like tune w a s not his o w n i n v e n t i o n — m i g h t have any relevance to the context in w h i c h the tune is employed in the concerto. The tune alone seems entirely sufficient for the role assigned to it in the k n o w n program of the work. Berg's source for the tune w a s eventually discovered b y H e r w i g Knaus, and with it not a text that w a s merely irrelevant, but one that w a s risqué and singularly inappropriate: A bird on the plumtree has wakened me, Tridie, tridie, iri, tulilei! Otherwise I would have overslept in Mizzi's bed, Tridie, etc. If everybody wants a rich and handsome girl, Tridie, etc. Where ought the devil take the ugly one? Tridie, etc. The girl is Catholic and I am a Protestant, Tridie, etc. She surely will put away the rosary in bed, Tridie, etc.38 Knaus concluded that Berg " w a s concerned only with the melody of the s o n g and that [his] v a g u e reference to a 'popular Carinthian air' w a s made so as to avoid giving rise to a mistaken interpretation to which the text could have led." 3 9 But in every other instance in w h i c h Berg is k n o w n to have quoted a préexistent, textassociated melody—Marie's Lullaby in Wozzeck,40 the " D u bist mein eigen" motive from Zemlinsky's Lyric Symphony and the Liebestrank motive from Tristan in the Lyric Suite, the Wedekind Lautenlied in Lulu, the Bach chorale in the Violin C o n certo—the unstated text is highly relevant, sometimes even essential, to the work. The danger of the unstated text leading to a "mistaken interpretation" is even greater than Knaus suggests, for M a n o n Gropius, though "rich and h a n d s o m e , " unlike the girl in the song, bore a striking resemblance to her in one respect: her nickname w a s " M u t z i . " In this respect, however, the unstated text must be taken literally, as an explicit reference to " M i z z i , " or "Mitzi," the conventional Austrian nickname for "Marie." Marie Scheuchl, a servant-girl in the Berg family household, gave birth on December 4,1902, to an illegitimate daughter, the result of her intimacy with the seventeen-year-old Alban. The father a c k n o w l e d g e d his paternity, the girl, Albine, w a s n a m e d after him, and he remained in touch w i t h her, but the relationship w a s never made publicly k n o w n — n e i t h e r in the composer's lifetime, nor during the forty-one years b y which his w i d o w survived him and the twenty-two years b y w h i c h she survived his daughter, w h o s e existence w a s k n o w n to her but k n o w l e d g e of w h i c h she suppressed for others w i t h the same diligence that she exercised in suppressing the third act of Lulu.41 In the alternative program of the Violin Concerto the t w o statements of the folksong, in the Scherzo of Part I and the closing Adagio of Part II, respectively 38 Knaus 70, Me. The English translation by Mosco Carner is taken from Knaus 76, MT. 39 Knaus 81, p. 143. 40 Simon 81, IABSN. 41 E. A. Berg 80, SM.

The Last Years represent Berg's first serious love affair, with the servant-girl who was the mother of his child, and his last, idealized relationship with Hanna Fuchs-Robettin. It is the composer's own mortality that is represented in the catastrophic violence of the Allegro and the resignation of the Adagio. The "misterioso" passage for horns that commences on the 23rd bar of the Adagio, a triadic statement of the series at P10, unfolds, in its top line, the four pitches which have their letter-name equivalents in "Alban Berg."42 The 23-bar passage that commences at m. 200 with the reminiscence of the Ländler melody merges into a final statement of the chorale and culminates in Hanna's musical cipher, the notes H F, in the solo violin. The final reminiscence of the Ländler melody and the Coda are a musical paraphrase of feelings repeatedly expressed in Berg's letters to Hanna: "No one can take from me the certainty of our union in a later life," he writes in May 1930, and "How many more years—until eternity, which belongs to us???" on December 9,1931. 4 3 It is this "certainty" of a love which shall survive his death that explains the "amoroso" assigned in the score to every statement of the four-note closing figure of the chorale, a marking that is hardly appropriate to the text and implication of the original tune. Barely twenty-seven months after Berg's death, Austria was invaded by the German Army and incorporated into the Third Reich, but Berg's native land was already a "hostile foreign country"44 before the Anschluss made the de facto ban on his music a matter of governmental policy, as part of the Nazi program against "entartete [degenerate] Musik." On November 17, only a few weeks before his death, Berg wrote to Ruzena Herlinger, the first interpreter of Der Wein, who had emigrated to Canada: If what you have to report to us isn't especially good, w e can nevertheless see that you have found some possible w a y to conduct your life anew, and in these days that is already something. So many people face this problem today, and most of them, ourselves included, find no solution. Concerning this topic I could tell you, from my own experience, much that is not gratifying and that has depressed us very much in the last few months. Our only pleasure is the Waldhaus. Unfortunately, we've had to leave it in the last few days. I have to think once more of finding students and whatever else relates to making a living. Let's hope that I'll get another commission. . . . December 8th Mengelberg will be doing the Lulu pieces, . . . December 1 1 t h Kabasta on Vienna Radio, on the 17th Andreae in Zurich; at the same time Klemperer in the U S A . Still to come this season (35/36) there are Stockholm (Talich), Helsingfors

42 larman 82a, IABSN, p. 6. 43 Berg continued to write to Hanna to the end of his life. The correspondence includes a 23page letter which I have not been able to see, and which may very well include a description of the secret program of the Violin Concerto. In Mrs. Berg's last will and testament (Szmolyan 77a, ÖMz) there is a list of mementos which includes "Berg's golden fountain pen (a gift from Franz Werfel, with which he wrote his opera Lulu and the Violin Concerto)." But Werfel was acting only as his sister's emissary in presenting this gift (cf. p. 26, above). In his letter to Hanna of October 23, 1926, after completing the work "on the last night of September," Berg described the program of the Lyric Suite in great detail. It seems unlikely that he would not have written similarly about the Violin Concerto to Hanna, in view of her close connection with this work, second only to her connection with the Lyric Suite. 44 See p. 239, above.

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(Schneevoigt), Busch (Copenhagen), Stokowski (Philadelphia), possibly also Karlsbad, Cleveland. And everywhere it will be called Austrian music—only in Austria will it not pass for Austrian music. Comic, isn't it?45 Louis Krasner has described the circumstances surrounding the Vienna première of the Violin Concerto on October 2 5 , 1 9 3 6 : About one week before Klemperer's Philharmonic performance date, word came to me indicating that the actual performance of the Berg Concerto would probably have to be cancelled because of pressures in official circles and also within the Orchestra. Not only was Klemperer, a devout converted Catholic, again labelled as a Jew in accordance with Hitler's code, but, in addition, Berg's music was decried as "Kultur-Bolshovik." To top it all, a Jew as soloist made the whole affair unendurable. A musical storm, it seemed, had been generated. That further contacts and negotiations continued at all was due to the fact that the Philharmonic's financial state was precarious and Klemperer enjoyed immense popular success in Vienna at the time. The Vienna Philharmonic, as managed by its own Players Committee, recognized that a Klemperer concert meant a successful box office return and increased financial stability for the Orchestra members. Klemperer steadfastly resisted all pressures to drop the Berg Concerto from his program and substitute another work. I had played the Concerto for the overpowering conductor. He knew the music thoroughly and remained completely absorbed in it and forcefully committed to it. The final outcome still remained in doubt on the day preceding the scheduled first orchestra rehearsal. An ultimatum was then dispatched to the Philharmonic offices from the enraged and towering Klemperer: without the Berg Concerto there would be no Klemperer to lead the Vienna Philharmonic concert. Furthermore, the conductor's bags were ready for his momentary departure from Vienna—never to return! For a day and a night we waited in uncertainty. At last, word arrived that the concert and program could go on as scheduled by Klemperer, despite displeasures and rumblings in political quarters and also within the Orchestra. Threats were brought that a number of Philharmonic members would refuse to play the concert. In turn the heartening message came to us that, contrary to his usual custom, Arnold Rosé, the venerable, universally admired Principal Concertmaster of the Philharmonic, would himself occupy the Concertmaster's chair for the Berg Concerto orchestral accompaniment. On the next day, rehearsals began in an atmosphere which remained charged with the tensions of the streets and Government offices. Indeed, the Sunday performance itself became an event of grim social and political significance. As the excitement mounted, catcalls and boos were interspersed with demonstrative cheers. But the direct counterstroke of the Philharmonic players—unprecedented, unimaginable, and of historic dimensions—was yet to come. As the Concerto's concluding high tones for solo violin and fading soft chords for orchestra melted away to an eerie silence—and almost before any applause could be heard—the entire orchestra membership arose as if on command, turned abruptly, and marched suddenly off the stage. Otto Klemperer and I were left aghast and alone to turn and acknowledge the response of the audience. We were alone, but for one notable and extremely significant exception. Arnold Rosé stood up and remained erect, standing tall and solitary by his Concertmaster's chair. He applauded and gripped our hands. . . ,46 45 Redlich 67, p. 60. 46 Krasner 82, IABSN. Arnold Rosé's exceptional behavior was not as remarkable as it might seem to have been. He was himself a Jew, according to Stengel/Gerigk 40, the Nazi party's official index of Jewish musicians.

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Stalin's tyranny had already eliminated the work of Schoenberg and his circle from musical life in Russia by the time Hitler's tyranny succeeded in eliminating it in Germany—indeed, it was the Communist dictatorship that set the precedent for the total governmental control of artistic production. But even in the "friendly foreign countries" where there was no political repression, cultural tendencies were moving in a direction that was increasingly inhospitable to the new music. What was the relevance of this difficult avant-garde music, of "modernism" in any of the arts, to the critical social, economic, and political issues that were of such pressing and all-encompassing concern? The slogan of Roslavetz's short-lived Russian journal for contemporary music, "Music is music, not ideology," 47 was rejected not only where everything was defined, by bureaucratic fiat, as ideology, but also among many liberals in the Western democracies. "The Communist Party and its Fellow Travelers had brought with them a cultural doctrine of social realism and proletarian literature: art should serve the interests of the masses and be understandable to the masses. Modern writers were difficult and complex, and they dealt with rarefied states of consciousness that seemed to have no bearing upon the social struggles of the day; and they were therefore disparaged. Steinbeck was to be preferred to Joyce, and the populist writers of the nineteenth century to Henry James." 48 In any event, outside of Germany there was, and still is, nothing comparable to the established and traditional institutions upon which operatic culture depends and which had provided a stage for Wozzeck in seventeen German cities by the end of the 1931/32 season. And seemingly apart from all these practical and social considerations, a musical tendency, Neo-classicism, that was supposed to be utterly antagonistic to the revolution in music represented by the Second Viennese School had come more and more to dominate contemporary music everywhere from the late 1920s to the end of the war. This was the world to which Berg left his musical legacy when he died on Christmas Eve, 1935. 47 See Volume I, p. 200.

48 Barrett 82, p. 9.

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Helene Berg, aged 91, died on August 30,1976. Until the end she continued to reside at Trauttmansdorffgasse 27, in the apartment she had shared with Alban Berg through the whole of their married life. In her last will and testament1 the Alban Berg Stiftung, founded by Mrs. Berg in 1968 in accordance with "Alban Berg's wish that after the death of his widow the proceeds from his works should go to a foundation for the promotion of contemporary music," is named as sole heir. Mrs. Berg already mentions a projected Alban Berg Stiftung less than four months after her husband's death, in a letter to Alma Mahler from Barcelona, where she had gone to attend the première of the Violin Concerto, April 19,1936. It is a poignant letter, remarkably revelatory in respect to Berg as well as his bereaved widow, and worth quoting in extenso: Beloved Almschi, You should not be angry because I left you so abruptly last time—I could do nothing else because I didn't want you to see me weeping! I w a s so grieved that you could believe, when we've known each other for more than 20 years, that in my marriage with Alban I could have "sinned against the Holy Ghost." Before my marriage I lived only for art; 2 1 renounced everything, devoted myself to Alban. Do you really believe that the price of butter and potatoes could suddenly have become so important to me that I could have burdened him with my enthusiasm about such matters? N o one had such need of domestic comfort as Alban, and all these seemingly laughable trivialities for which I am now reproached had a purpose: namely, to contribute to the creation of the environment that this great and valuable man and

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1 Szmolyan 77a, ÒMz. 2 According to Reich 65, pp. 20f., Helene Nahowski "was training to become an opera singer" when Berg met her.

"Eins nach dem Andern" artist required for his work. Some day his letters will prove this. I was in fact (except for the good years!) thrifty and "penny-wise," so that he might thereby be able to afford many small pleasures, such as the movies (80 groschen!), or a visit to the coffee house where he could read the paper. There were also many little expenses for the house and apartment (for example, paint, garden tools, etc.), and after all, every now and then one feels an impulsive need to buy a book or some pretty flowers. Don't you see that my petty bargaining, which outsiders who knew nothing about our more or less difficult life so falsely judged, was only in order to achieve these things? Believe me, Almscherl, those well-to-do people in Prague [an allusion to the family of Alma Mahler Werfel's sister-in-law, Hanna Fuchs-Robettin] could never imagine themselves in such a situation, and they don't actually know what they are doing when they now indulge in malicious gossip about my marriage—all this miserable haggling and calculating was hard enough for me and only the thought that I could thereby create some little pleasure for him brought me to it. He knew this also and was often irritated and sad when he saw me returning heavily laden after a trip to market. He worried and complained that my health, which was never robust, would suffer because of it, and it was because of this concern that he asked you to influence me to be less frugal. How many notes and letters I have from him, when he was travelling, in which he entreats me to eat properly and not to fatigue myself. But he nevertheless beamed like a child when there was some pretty new thing in our home. His increasingly more difficult life during the last 2 years, the relatives trying ever more boldly to fleece him, his anxiety that he might have to give up the Waldhaus and the car, his despair over artistic life, with so many who were once loyal distancing themselves from him, and finally the grinding work—during the last 2 years he didn't once permit himself to take time off for recreation—about all this I'll remain silent. This is a chapter in itself and I must come to terms with it in telling myself that it was his unalterable destiny and that he endured it. The good Lord loved him and took him, so that he should no longer have such a difficult time of it. As for the gift of the Lyric Suite [Hanna Fuchs-Robettin was still in possession of the manuscript; see pp. 27f., above], I've found the following solution, now that Alban's intention to sell it hasn't been realized and I can freely dispose of it:3 Hanna Fuchs can keep the music during her lifetime and place it on her piano where everyone can see it. But she must affirm that after her death it will go to the Alban Berg Stiftung, to which his collected books and manuscripts will also belong. This is what Alban wants. And now, my Almschi, I ask you to believe what I write and not to allow yourself to be stirred up by these common people from Prague. I love you and don't want to lose you. I have nothing else in my life that still seems important to me. Your Helene 4

3 That Berg himself intended to recover the manuscript from Hanna Fuchs-Robettin (he had, after all, given her something even more relevant to her role in the composition—the annotated copy of the published score) can be inferred from the following passage in Adorno 68 (p. 39): "After 1933 the sale of Berg's manuscripts became a source of income; I myself tried in vain to arouse the interest of an English Maecenas in the manuscript of the Lyric Suite; in the last letters that he wrote to m e this project played an important role." (Adorno, Berg's close friend and pupil, had been dismissed from the faculty of the University of Frankfurt by the Nazis and had emigrated to England.) Adorno goes on to suggest that Berg's economic situation may have played a part in his final illness: "It is a wretched aspect of berg's biography, that he did not immediately have his carbuncles thoroughly treated by the best doctors available, probably in order to save money, although the attitude of 'there's nothing to be done about it/ resignation, perhaps his own weariness, had their share in his death." 4 Perle 80b, OMz.

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Berg's financial difficulties in the last t w o years of his life are confirmed in his o w n correspondence, as w e have seen. In his last letter to Reich, N o v e m b e r 4, 1935, after his return from the Waldhaus, he wrote: " S o m e h o w or other w e must be helped! A n d this cry is one of the main reasons for m y coming to Vienna. 1 can live for one, two months more—but w h a t then? I am thinking and w o r k i n g out combinations of nothing except t h i s — s o I am profoundly depressed." 5 A s for Helene Berg's k n o w l e d g e of her husband's intentions regarding the ultimate destiny of the manuscript, this is explained in a subsequent letter to A l m a Mahler: Waldhaus, 19. VI. 36. . . . Life is difficult and sad here (sad above all for me), the only ray of light when Alban is here. And he is often here; he lives then with us and we speak with him. His place at the piano and at his writing desk and chair, where he taps out his replies. In the morning, at noon, and evening, he is here regularly, at night with me and counsels me in everything. Nothing more can happen to me, I know that this, our life here, is only an illusion and that the "real" one will begin yonder, with him!6 Presumably it w a s also through these visitations that Mrs. Berg learned of her husband's w i s h that after her death "the proceeds from his w o r k s should go to a foundation for the promotion of contemporary music." In his last years he w a s deeply troubled and depressed by the catastrophic diminution in his income; there is nothing whatever to suggest that he took any comfort from, or ever gave any thought to, the wealth that his royalties might earn posthumously. Its deed of foundation specifies that the purpose of the Stiftung is to be realized "a) through the provision of vacationing places w h e r e gifted n e e d y music students may continue their musical studies; b) through the settlement of stipends on gifted n e e d y music students; c) through the fostering of the w o r k s and memory of A l b a n Berg, specifically b y support to be given to institutions and persons dedicated to this purpose." 7 U p o n Mrs. Berg's death an additional responsibility devolved u p o n the A l b a n Berg Stiftung in its capacity as inheritor of Mrs. Berg's legal rights in her husband's work. 8 In her last will and testament she reaffirmed her ban on Act III of Lulu and repeated once again her w e l l - k n o w n explanation for her refusal to permit the completion of the scoring: No one is to be permitted to examine the manuscript of the third act of Lulu. Nor may anyone examine the photocopy at Universal Edition. The reason that I could never resolve to permit another composer to orchestrate or complete the incomplete sections of Act III is as follows: After Arnold Schoenberg, Anton Webern, and Alexander Zemlinsky explained, on examining the manuscript, that they could not prepare it, the opinion of these three most intimate friends of Alban's was decisive in my resolve not to release the manuscript. Moreover, I have most serious scruples against violating Alban's principles—all the more where it concerns the conclusion of works, which he always wrote with the most profound sense of responsibility— by making something available which he still wanted to subject to a "basic overhaul5 Reich 65, p. 103. Perhaps his critical economic situation explains Berg's failure to attend any of the performances of the Lulu Suite that preceded the ISCM performance in Prague in September. As the delegate of the Viennese section of the ISCM, his expenses would presumably have been covered for the latter, had he not finally been prevented from attending because of his illness. 6 Perle 80b, OMz. 7 Szmolyan 77a, OMz, p. 169. 8 Bartosch 79, OMz.

"Eins nach dem A n d e r n " ing" (as he assured me and his friend Webern) before he could present it to the public with a good conscience. . . It now fell upon the Stiftung to perpetuate the restrictions on Berg's masterpiece that Mrs. Berg could no longer execute in her own person. Immediately upon Mrs. Berg's death the question of whether the third act of Lulu ought or ought not to be "completed" became the subject of widely publicized arguments pro and con among the variously interested parties.10 At the time of the composer's death there was no controversy about this question. The authorized sources—the composer's publisher and his official biographer— stated quite simply that Alban Berg had himself completed the composition of the opera, and no one contradicted this assertion. "Alban Berg completed the composition of his three-act opera Lulu shortly before his death," states the opening sentence of the publisher's prefatory note in the first printing (1936) of Erwin Stein's vocal score of Acts I and II. The concluding sentence of that same note promises the publication of Act III "at a later time." The vocal score of Act III was, in fact, completed (from Berg's Particell) by Erwin Stein and laid out for publication to the very last bar. In an article published within a year of Berg's death Willi Reich wrote: "Berg left a complete and very carefully worked out preliminary score of Lulu. Only the instrumentation of a few places in the middle of the last act was not finished and this could easily be carried out from the given material by some friend familiar with Berg's work." 11 In his first book on Berg, published in the following year, Reich concluded his chapter on Lulu with a more reasonable evaluation: "The completion of the instrumentation, by a musician familiar with his work, is achievable throughout in Berg's own manner. The task would, of course, demand an appreciable amount of time, since first of all a thorough knowledge of the portion of the score orchestrated by Berg himself and its relation to the Particell is necessary." 12 The scholar forced to rely on circumstantial evidence rather than on an appraisal of the suppressed surviving manuscripts could refer, finally, to the composer's own assertions that he had completed the composition of the opera. In the preceding chapter (p. 240) we quoted his statement to this effect in his letter to Webern of May 6,1934. Two weeks before this he had written to his publisher, informing him that only the Prologue still remained to be composed. 13 Why should there now have been controversy where once there was none, and why, in the various arguments pro and con, was so little attention paid to the unambiguous position publicly taken by the interested parties at the time of Berg's death? What happened in the forty-one years between the death of Alban Berg and the death of his widow that could allow the well-known Austrian composer, Gottfried von Einem, speaking on behalf of Mrs. Berg's legatee, the Alban Berg Stiftung, to assert that "the opera was not composed through to the end, and it is not possible to produce a completed work from the available material without 9 Szmolyan 77a, OMz, p. 170. 10 This and the following paragraphs are largely taken from my article, "The Complete 'Lulu/ " in MT 79a. 11 Reich 36, MQ. 12 Reich 37, p. 124. 13 Scherliess 76, Melos, pp. 109f.

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employing violence"?14 What can have induced Willi Reich to join his colleagues on the board of trustees of the Stiftung in protest against any attempt to fulfill a task which he had once said "could easily be carried out from the given material"?15 The irrational political despotism our century has known has much to do with the beginning of the story. When Berg died on December 24,1935, there was no longer a German or Austrian house where Lulu could be staged. The engraving of Stein's reduction of Act III was begun, but it was interrupted after only seventy pages (mm. 1-452 [474 in Cerha's numbering]) had been completed. In the years following the première in Zurich on June 2,1937, years of totalitarian dictatorship and war, the completion of the scoring, whose only legitimate purpose would have been the preparation of the opera for performance, could hardly have seemed a matter of urgency. The first staged revival of the opera, at the Venice Biennale in 1949, does not seem to have aroused much attention. This was preceded in the same year by a concert version at the ISCM Festival in Vienna. On March 7, 1953, there was a second staged revival, the German première of the opera, in Essen. The preparation of a performable third act was again becoming a matter of practical interest. In the meantime Stein's vocal score of Act III remained unpublished. Hans Redlich had been allowed to see this in connection with his study of the composer's life and work published by Universal Edition, Berg's own publisher, in 1957. He argued in the strongest terms for a completion of the scoring.16 At the insistence of the composer's widow, however, he was required (in a letter from the publisher dated June 27, 1955) to insert a statement that badly undercut his own position, to the effect that Schoenberg, Webern, and Zemlinsky had each been asked by Mrs. Berg to complete the opera and had declined to do so. Redlich was entirely dependent on the widow and the publisher for access to the materials and information he needed for the preparation of his book, and he had no choice but to comply with their directive. Mrs. Berg's supposed recollections, which first saw the light of day only after all three composers were dead, 17 were, and remain to this day, the only source for the views she attributed to them as to the feasibility of a completion of the scoring. The question of scoring and the question of performing the third act are interdependent, and if Mrs. Berg's refusal to allow either was to be respected, then one could infer the elimination of the possibility or necessity of the other. But the implications of Mrs. Berg's position were interpreted to mean much more than this. Not only were the original prefatory references to Berg's completion of the composition and to a forthcoming publication of Act III deleted when the vocal score of Acts I and II was reissued in i960, but Stein's partially engraved reduction and all other unpublished materials of Act III were suppressed, in that 14 Szmolyan 77a, ÒMz, p. 174. 15 Szmolyan 77b, ÒMz, p. 397. 16 Redlich 57a, pp. 263-67. 17 Mrs. Berg's letter to Redlich dated September 14, 1954, is apparently her earliest report in writing on the supposed views of Schoenberg, Webern, and Zemlinsky respecting the third act. Her preliminary draft of this letter is published in E. A. Berg 80, SM.

"Eins nach dem A n d e r n " all access to them was refused. When Berg's close friend and pupil, Theodor W. Adorno, a man with the most intimate and profound knowledge and understanding of Berg's character and musical personality, asked permission to see the materials in connection with the preparation of his 1968 book on Berg, even he was turned away, in accordance with the same injunctions that are asserted in the will: "No one is to be permitted to examine the manuscript of the third act of Lulu. Nor may anyone examine the photocopy at Universal Edition." Since when has the establishment of grounds for the non-performance of a piece of music, whether such grounds are valid or not, been assumed to justify not only its non-publication but also its total sequestration? Our libraries are filled with historical and scholarly editions and, in more fortunate instances, with manuscripts as well. Who has ever supposed that these are not to be perused except with an eye to performance? The manuscripts of unfinished compositions by the great masters of the past, including those of Berg's friends and colleagues, Schoenberg and Webern, on whose supposed opinion Mrs. Berg claimed to rest her decision, are published in facsimile and studied by serious musicians the world over. Why were we asked to make an exception only of Alban Berg? And how is it possible that the non sequiturs that Mrs. Berg drew from the supposed opinions of Schoenberg, Webern, and Zemlinsky should have been accepted without question, as though they could possibly be construed as logical and appropriate inferences from these opinions? My own involvement in this story begins in the autumn of 1959. I had recently completed a study, begun in 1952 when the Vienna concert version was recorded, of the vocal score of Acts I and II of Lulu.18 The orchestral score was not yet published, but the published portion of Stein's reduction had by this time been part of my library for twenty years. If the "later time" mentioned in the original edition had been so long delayed, were not the long years of tyranny and war a sufficient explanation? I initiated a correspondence with Hans Redlich and with his friendly encouragement addressed several inquiries to Vienna. On October 13 the publisher wrote that the completion of the edition within a reasonable time was anticipated and that it would then be sent to me. In response to my request for more details, I was informed, in a letter dated November 12, that there were many editorial problems in Stein's 1936 reduction of Act III and that it would not be ready for publication in less than three years. A third letter from Universal Edition, dated November 30, stated, on Mrs. Berg's behalf and in response to an inquiry that I had addressed directly to her, that neither she nor the publisher had any intention of bringing out the third act of Lulu in the near future. 19 Far from resolving any problems, these replies to my inquiries had unexpectedly raised new questions. Were not the publishers aware of Mrs. Berg's opposition to the release of the remaining segment of Stein's reduction when they wrote their letters of October 13 and November 12? Had they not been within their rights when 18 Perle 59, JAMS.

19 This correspondence is in the Music Division of the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. The reader is also referred to the documentation in Offergeld 64, HF/SR.

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they commissioned Erwin Stein for the piano reduction and initiated the engraving of Act III, and, if so, how could Mrs. Berg now interfere in the publication? Why did Universal Edition and Berg's editor at one time proceed with the engraving of seventy pages of a score which was still in need of basic editorial revisions? (Erwin Stein could no longer speak on his own behalf in response to this last question, since he had died in 1958.) Trips to Europe in the summers of i960 and 1963 suggested a basis for renewing my correspondence with Universal Edition—the possibility that I might be allowed to examine photostats at the publisher's own offices in London or Vienna. Through the great kindness of the late Dr. Alfred A. Kalmus this request was at last granted, and in August 1963 I was permitted to study Stein's reduction, a photostat of Berg's own Particeli, and a typescript of the libretto of Act III, at the publisher's offices in Vienna. My studies confirmed Redlich's conclusions and the original, but subsequently withdrawn, representations of the publisher, that Berg had indeed completed the opera and that completion of the full score of Act III by another hand was entirely feasible. 20 As Redlich had pointed out, this task is greatly facilitated by the formal design of the final scene, which is based on largescale recapitulations of earlier episodes that were fully scored by the composer. But beyond this, I was able to show that Berg's overall dramatic conception is a radical departure from Wedekind's in all-important respects that had not been previously noted and that the published edition of Acts I and II, in deriving its list of dramatis personae from Wedekind's drama rather than from the implications of the music and libretto of the complete opera, was in itself a drastic misrepresentation of the composer's intentions. When Lulu was performed for the first time in 1937, only those fragments of Act III that Berg had incorporated in the Lulu Suite were presented, as "background" music to a mainly pantomimed reconstruction of the final episode of the play, the murder of Lulu and the Countess by Jack the Ripper. When the opera was revived after the war it continued to be performed with a makeshift finale along the lines of the Zurich première, a finale which retrospectively falsified the dramatic and musical content of the two preceding acts and destroyed the symmetry of the work. But quite apart from the unavoidable deprivations and distortions of the two-act version, why, in the Zurich première, should it have been the Animal Tamer, instead of Dr. Schòn, who returned in the role of Jack the Ripper in the aborted version of the finale? Why should the roles of the Prince and the Manservant have been assigned to different performers, instead of to one and the same? 21 Why should the Acrobat's name, Rodrigo, have been restored to him in 20 The original representations to this effect in Reich 37 (p. 124) were also withdrawn, without explanation, in Reich 63. 21 Those doublings that are essential to the dramatic structure of the work—the Medical Specialist and the Professor, the Painter and the Negro, Dr. Schòn and Jack—were mentioned in Reich's articles on the opera immediately after Berg's death. The other multiple roles, just as essential to the musical content and design of the opera, were discussed for the first time in a number of articles that I published soon after examining the third-act materials in Vienna, notably Perle 64a, PNM; 64b, JAMS; 65, MR; 67b, MQ; 67d, A/M. Cf. Jarman 78, IABSN.

" E i n s nach d e m A n d e r n "

the cast list, and the names of the other secondary characters as well, in the commentary printed in the program brochure? Why should the cast list, and, indeed, the libretto issued by Berg's publisher, have identified Aiwa as "a writer"—the profession that associates the role with its original creator, Wedekind, instead of with the composer of the opera, Alban Berg? Berg's conception was destroyed even before the orchestra had taken its place in the pit. These egregious misrepresentations of Berg's masterpiece were repeated for forty-two years, in every performance of the incomplete version of the work, with a single exception, the production staged by the Metropolitan Opera in New York in the spring of 1977. Unfortunately, the suppression of primary documents is not all that has stood in the way of an authentic production of the opera. In Chapter Two we pointed out that the published list of Personen in the two-act version of the opera misrepresented Berg's dramatic plan, but the misrepresentations of Acts I and II went far beyond anything that could be explained by deficiencies in the published materials. 22 Nothing—least of all a composer's own directives for the production of his work—must be allowed to infringe upon the free-ranging fantasy of "those new despots of the theatrical art, the stage producers. . . . For all this sort of thing is in a very bad way nowadays, and the highhandedness of these mere minions, and their total lack of conscience, is exceeded only by their barbarity and feebleness." 23 This characterization by Schoenberg of "producers who look at a work only in order to see how to make it into something quite different"2* was written more than fifty years ago, but, like so much else that Schoenberg had to say, it is more topical than ever. We have had productions in which the Painter is replaced by a Photographer, in which the life of Countess Geschwitz is spared by Jack the Ripper, in which Jack the Ripper is identified with Dr. Schón's butler rather than with Dr. Schón himself. If the Hamburg Opera, when it was still under Rolf Liebermann's management, refrained from such gross revisions of the Wedekind-Berg text, in the most celebrated and widely performed production while Mrs. Berg was still alive, it was nevertheless a travesty. The mechanics of the staging made it impossible to correlate even the entrances and exits with the music specifically written for these purposes by Berg. The constant and often inexplicable alterations of the text gave rise to bizarre inconsistencies and incongruities. Where Wedekind and Berg have "Sie ist fort?" ("Has she gone?"), the Hamburg production gave us "Er ist tot!" ("He is dead!"); "Sie zieht sich u m " ("She's changing her clothes") became "Ganz unbegreiflich!" ("Quite incredible!"); "Benediktiner" ("Benedictine") became " O welche Freude!" ("Oh what joy!"). Is it really possible that there are people connected with the musical theater who do not know that a 22 The correction of these deficiencies in m y numerous articles and reviews had n o effect whatever, except in respect to the above-mentioned production at the Metropolitan Opera. The first of these, Perle 59, JAMS, though it w a s written before I had had an opportunity to examine the thirdact materials, already pointed out that Aiwa is a "composer," not a "writer," in the opera. It also established a correct correlation b e t w e e n the animals in the menagerie of the Prologue and the respective roles. 23 Schoenberg, in a letter to .Webern, September 12, 1931 (Schoenberg 65). 24 Schoenberg, April 14, 1930 (ibid.).

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composer cannot be indifferent to which of these locutions his music is intended to set? 25 A t least one of the Hamburg Opera's alterations was incorporated in a revised edition of the libretto of Acts I and II. The Acrobat was still listed as "Rodrigo," and Aiwa was still identified as a "writer" rather than as a "composer," but at one point the text departed from the one that had previously been issued with the published materials. A t the beginning of I/2 the following lines appear in the original edition of the two-act libretto: die Briefe sortierent, ihr einen reichend. An Dich. fahrt das Billet zur Nase. Die Corticelli. Birgt es an ihrem Busen.26

MALER LULU

In this new edition of the libretto "Die Gräfin Geschwitz" was substituted for "Die Corticelli." There was no editorial comment to show that it was not Berg w h o was responsible for this revision of Wedekind's text. 27 But the continuing misrepresentation of Berg's masterpiece in performance and publication was not our main concern. The long and ongoing delay in the publication of Stein's reduction of Act III and in the completion of the scoring; the persistent repetition of the claim that such authoritative figures as Schoenberg, Webern, and Zemlinsky had found the third-act materials to be totally insufficient for realization by another hand—an assertion that not even Redlich, puzzled though he was by it, recognized for what it was, a simple fabrication; the misdescription of the materials themselves in the later statements of the publisher and Berg's friend and biographer, Willi Reich; the difficulty of finding any but highminded motives in the position taken by the composer's widow, whom everyone recognized as the "treue Hüterin des Erbes Alban Bergs" 28 ("loyal guardian of Alban Berg's heritage") and as the surviving partner of "that rare thing—an ideal 25 Given the general level of the Hamburg production, it seems supererogatory to call attention to the more refined implications of Berg's text setting. Nevertheless, I cannot refrain from quoting the following lines from a 1936 article, "Is Opera Still Possible Today?", by Ernst Krenek (reprinted in Krenek 66): "In modern opera music is not merely a means of heightening, ennobling verbal language—it is not there to make the words more eloquent, so to speak; it is deliberately contrasted with the words, placed behind the words, making them transparent so that you can see their inner significance. As an illustration let me quote just one passage from Alban Berg's Lulu, where Aiwa offers the exhausted Lulu a liqueur, after she has been released from prison and has returned to Dr. Schön's house. He utters only one word—'Benedictine'—but this everyday, even banal utterance is made so much a part of the composition of Lulu's indescribably beautiful entrance passage that it is virtually a peak of ecstasy. The music does not achieve this by 'heightening' the words but by opening an abyss of meaning and countermeaning behind them: here the Benedictine is not just a liqueur such as you offer a guest, but a true love-potion." ("Benedictine" is Berg's own contribution to the text.) 26 PAINTER (sorting the letters and handing her one). For you. LULU (puts the letter to her nose). Corticelli. (Conceals it in her bosom.) 27 Whether the change is an improvement or not is entirely beside the point, of course, but the motivation for it is easy to surmise. "Die Corticelli" plays no role whatever in the drama (near the beginning of Erdgeist, but not in the opera, Aiwa refers to her as a dancer in his ballet), so why not give this moment some relevance by substituting "Die Gräfin Geschwitz"? But when we meet the Countess for the first time, in the following act, it is clear that she is a newcomer to Lulu's circle. The substitution is also a means of giving support to a vulgar misconception of the relation between the Countess and Lulu that the Hamburg Opera was not alone in fostering. Wedekind's play and Berg's libretto both make it unmistakably clear that a lesbian liaison is utterly impossible for Lulu, and that the Countess's love is doomed to utter frustration, even though the Countess is moved by this love to incredible acts of self-sacrifice. The Countess and Lulu are joined only in death, never before. 28 Szmolyan 77a, ÖMz, p. 169.

" E i n s nach d e m A n d e r n " marriage": 29 all this could not help but foster a dangerous misconception (dangerous because of the warrant for original contributions it conferred upon whoever might someday, as someone surely would, undertake the task of "completing" Lulu), the drawing of an analogy between the question of "completing" Lulu and the posthumous completion by others of Bach's Art of the Fugue, Mozart's Requiem, Busoni's Dr. Faustus, Puccini's Turandot, Mahler's Tenth Symphony, etc. Moreover, the continuing misdescription of the unpublished third-act materials (discussions of the third-act problem repeatedly referred to the "sketches" rather than to the "short score" [Particell]), in spite of the careful inventory of these by Redlich and myself, seemed reason enough for some apprehension as to their safe preservation. When the provisions of Mrs. Berg's will were finally revealed, this apprehension appeared to have been well justified. A list of manuscripts that had been deposited in the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek itemized the Lulu holdings as follows: Lulu, Particell in 3 Mappen Mappe 1 (erster Akt) 76 Bl. + 2 Zettel und 4 große Partiturbögen Mappe 2 (2. Akt) 74 Bl. + 2 Bl. zum Film Mappe 3 (3. Akt) 76 Bl. + 2 große Partiturblätter + 2 Bl. Notizen + 4 Partiturblätter (Schluss der Oper) gingen in der Universal Edition verloren, sind dort unauffindbar! [were lost at Universal Edition, can't be found therel]30 It is impossible to tell from this exactly what was supposed to have been lost— whether all or only part of "Portfolio 3." It is also impossible to overlook the fact that to whatever extent materials of the third act might have been lost, to that extent the fulfillment of another clause in Mrs. Berg's will would have been assured: " N o one is to be permitted to examine the manuscript of the third act of Lulu." As for Mrs. Berg's assertion that her husband intended to subject the composition to a "basic overhauling," this we know not only from Mrs. Berg's last will and testament, but also from Berg's letter of May 6, 1934, to Webern (see p. 240, above). "All this," he concludes, "will still require two or three weeks, so that I will be able to start on the instrumentation only in June." He lived another twenty months after writing this letter, long enough to complete the instrumentation of the Lulu Suite and of Acts I and II and the first 268 bars of Act III of the opera. Why should we suppose that he had not subjected the composition to a "basic overhauling," as he said he would do, and that this still remained to be done at the time of his death, as Mrs. Berg would have had us believe? In the same letter Berg refers to another task that he planned to accomplish in those "two or three weeks" before commencing on the instrumentation of the Lulu Suite: "In the penultimate part there are some things that are only hastily sketched in, to be worked out later." In the first part of the final scene, before Lulu's return to the street after the Countess's arrival with her portrait, we find three "things that are only hastily sketched 29 Carner 75, p. 17.

30 Szmolyan 77a, ÖMz, p. 176. (The emphasis is mine.)

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in." Why were these not "worked out later" in the Particell, in accordance with the composer's stated intention? 31 The first of these "sketched-in" places occurs at the rise of the curtain on the offstage Barrel Organ Music, the "Thema" of the preceding Variations, as Berg designates it in the Lulu Suite. The tune is provided with its accompanying chords only for the first four bars (mm. 737-740). 32 These would obviously serve as a model for the harmonic setting of the remainder of the Wedekind melody, mm. 741-752. It is literally repeated in the now more distant offstage Barrel Organ Music at mm. 827-842. This time the chordal accompaniment is not given at all, although space for its insertion is left blank in the Particell, as it was in mm. 741-752. In both instances the direction, "Drehorgel," serves as a shorthand indication for the required chordal accompaniment, which would be repeated unchanged for the second occurrence of the tune. Can any literate musician describe the Particell as incomplete—"not composed through to the end"—because of the missing Barrel Organ harmonies? A more substantial problem, but a textual, not a musical one, is involved in the third of these "sketched-in" places in the Particell, mm. 976-1002. These bars bring to a climax and conclusion a vocal quartet based on Alwa's Hymn to Lulu at the close of Act II. Measures 974-1006 of the Quartet recapitulate mm. 1 1 0 2 - 1 1 0 7 , 1 1 0 9 - 1 1 1 1 , 1 1 3 1 - 1 1 3 5 , and 1 1 3 9 - 1 1 4 4 of the Hymn. In mm. 976-1002, however, only Alwa's part is completed. The first three bars of this episode provide a text, but no music, for the part of Countess Geschwitz; the last three bars provide notes, but no words, for the parts of Lulu and the Countess. Otherwise nothing is given for the parts of the Countess, Schigolch, and Lulu except brackets to show where one, two, or three additional voices are to join Aiwa in the vocal ensemble. The orchestral music that accompanies the "sketched-in" vocal parts, though unscored, is completely worked out. In the preceding portion of the vocal quartet, mm. 960-976, the vocal lines are derived by doubling linear details already present in the orchestral part, and there is every reason to suppose that Berg would have employed exactly the same technique in supplying the vocal lines that are only "sketched in." The words that are required to complete the ensemble are given in a footnote in Berg's own working libretto, which I was able to examine at the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek in November 1981. Restrictions imposed by Mrs. Berg and her legatee, the Alban Berg Stiftung, had prevented Friedrich Cerha from examining this during his work on the "Herstellung," as he calls it—the preparation of Act III for performance and publication that was issued by Universal Edition shortly after Mrs. Berg's death. The text of the "sketched-in" fragment of the Quartet consists of the last six lines in the following citation, which gives the text of the complete Quartet, mm. 9601006, as it appears in this copy of the libretto:

3 1 For Willi Reich's answer to this question see Reich 66, SM. My reply to Reich appears in Perle 67c, SM. 32 In references to the Particell of the third act w e will cite bar numbers as given in Cerha's edition.

" E i n s nach d e m A n d e r n "

*Der kindliche Ausdruck der Augen ist trotz allem, was sie erlebt hat, noch ganz der selbe!— Aber der frische Tau, der die Haut bedeckt, . . . Und der duftige Hauch vor den Lippen, . . . Und das strahlende Licht, das sich von der weissen Stirn aus verbreitet Und diese herausfordernde Pracht des jugendlichen Fleisches an Hals und Armen SCHIGOLCH alles das — ist mit dem Kehrichtwagen — gegangen.

ALWA.

*) Gleichszeitig mit dieser Arie Alwas geht Folgendes Gespräch, ein Gesangs-Quartett bildend: SCHIGOLCH. Ihr Körper stand auf dem Höhepunkt seiner Entfaltung, als das Porträt gemalt wurde. GESCHWITZ. Es muss ein sehr begabter Künstler gewesen sein, der das Bild gemalt hat. SCHIGOLCH. Und später hat er sich den Hals abgeschnitten. LULU wieder vollkommen ruhig, vor das Bild tretend. Hast Du ihn denn nicht gekannt? GESCHWITZ. Nein, das muss lang vor meiner Zeit gewesen sein. LULU. Ach ja, wie lange ist das her! Wie lange SCHIGOLCH. Das Bild ist (auch) ausserordentlich nachgedunkelt. . . . LULU. Ich kann mit Selbstbewusstsein sagen: Das war ich einmal! . . . SCHIGOLCH. Ja, man macht sich keinen Begriff von unserer Jugendzeit 33 GESCHWITZ. Gott sei Dank merkt man den Verfall nicht, wenn man zusammen lebt. Berg has invented a line for Lulu that is not found in Wedekind, and has reassigned and reordered other lines. A s Berg's footnote indicates, the Quartet is conceived as an "Aria" for Alwa, accompanied by three obbligato vocal parts. (At the conclusion of Chapter Three Lulu was described as "probably the unique example of a ['number opera'] whose 'numbers' are settings of prose, rather than poetic, texts." In this copy of the libretto Berg has redesigned the layout of and slightly altered Alwa's part in the above citation from what it is in the original drama, converting into verse what appears as prose in Wedekind.) In my report to Dr. Kalmus on the third-act materials (August 21, 1963) I hazarded the "guess that 3 3 ALWA. T h e childlike expression in the eyes, in spite of all she's been through, is still quite the same!— But the fresh dew that covers the skin, . . . A n d the fragrant breath about the lips, . . . A n d the radiant light that beams from the white forehead A n d this bold splendor of the youthful flesh on the neck and arms SCHIGOLCH All that's — been carted away — with the rubbish. *) The following conversation, forming a vocal quartet, unfolds simultaneously with A l w a ' s Aria: SCHIGOLCH. Her body was at the height of its development when the picture w a s painted. GESCHWITZ. It must have been a very gifted artist w h o painted that picture. SCHIGOLCH. A n d subsequently he cut his o w n throat. LULU (completely composed again, going up to the picture). Didn't you know him? GESCHWITZ. NO, it must have been long before my time. LULU. A h yes, how long ago it was! H o w long SCHIGOLCH. The picture has (also) darkened remarkably. . . . LULU. I can say with confidence: that's what I was once! . . . SCHIGOLCH. Yes, people can have no conception of what our youth w a s like GESCHWITZ. Thank God, w e don't notice the decline when we're always together.

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Berg himself, finding that he had not left sufficient space for filling in the missing details w h e n he returned to this passage at some later date, probably completed them on a separate sheet." 3 4 This assumed, of course, that at some point Berg had devised the required text. N o w w e k n o w that this assumption w a s correct. Where, then, is the music? It is not a m o n g the Lulu manuscripts and sketches that were deposited in the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek during Mrs. Berg's lifetime, nor is it a m o n g the holdings at Universal Edition. It could be among the autographs, not yet catalogued at last report, that were still in Mrs. Berg's possession at the time of her death, all of w h i c h were included in a bequest to the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek. D o w n through the years important manuscripts, parts of important manuscripts, and various manuscript sketches have f o u n d their w a y into a number of other public collections—the Library of Congress, the Morgan Library in N e w York, the Bodleian Library at Oxford, the John Herrick Jackson Music Library at Yale University. Some, perhaps the missing conclusion of the vocal quartet a m o n g them, have f o u n d their w a y into the hands of private collectors. Finally, Mrs. Berg's generosity in presenting odd autograph pages of presumably discarded sketches, and perhaps of more valuable items on occasion, to her friends and even to visitors w a s well k n o w n . O n e of the latter may be the u n k n o w i n g possessor of the missing insert to the Particell of A c t III. In the months immediately following m y study of the third-act materials in Vienna in A u g u s t 1963, it w a s made clear to me that there w a s to be no change whatever in the continuing misrepresentation of those materials. The unfeasibility of orchestrating the third act, whether this w a s to be attributed to Mrs. Berg's refusal to permit it, to the inadequacies of the materials, or both, continued to be offered as grounds for their continued sequestration and for the continued nonpublication of Stein's edition of A c t III. The opinions attributed to Schoenberg, Webern, and Zemlinsky b y Mrs. Berg as an explanation for her ban on the third act continued to be circulated b y the publisher. Why, then, did the publisher break this ban on m y behalf? Was this part of a tentative move, subsequently abandoned, in the direction of a total abrogation of the ban, regardless of Mrs. Berg's objections? Was m y independent evaluation w a n t e d in connection with internal discussions respecting the third-act materials? Every request I had made to the publisher for access to the materials had stressed that I w a s a serious and active scholar w h o intended to incorporate the results of his studies into lectures and articles, should access be granted. They could hardly have expected to enlist m y collaboration in a continuing conspiracy of silence. But this is exactly w h a t w a s asked of me, in a letter dated February 3, 1964. In the same letter there w a s a reference to an u n n a m e d "Viennese expert" w h o s e studies of the third act antedated mine and w h o w i s h e d to complete the third act but w o u l d not be allowed to d o so in view of Mrs. Berg's opposition. O n February 101 replied as follows, in a letter to Dr. Kalmus: . . . May I recall to your attention the way in which I formulated my numerous requests for access to the material of the third act. 34 Perle 64a, PNM.

"Eins nach dem Andern"

I quote from my letter of October 7,1959, to Dr. Schlee: "I have been invited to address the American Musicological Society in Chicago, December 29, on the subject of Alban Berg's Lulu. I have studied the music of the first two acts very thoroughly and I am, of course, eager to include a discussion of the third act in my address." I quote from my letter of November 9, 1959, to Frau Helene Berg: "I am planning to address the next national meeting of the American Musicological Society on the subject of your late husband's opera, Lulu. . . . My purpose in preparing a paper on Lulu, which I plan to publish after it is delivered, is to clarify the technical and dramatic character of this work and to stress its revolutionary, and so far unappreciated, significance in the evolution of twelve-tone composition. . . . I am the author of numerous articles concerning theoretical aspects of atonality and twelve-tone music which have been published in the United States, South America, and England, and I recently completed a book on the subject which is now in the hands of the publishers. My study of Lulu has occupied me for a long time, and I would deeply appreciate your assistance in making it possible for me to complete this study." I quote from my letter to you, dated July 1,1963: "I would be happy to make a special trip to Vienna during the month of July in order to study this material. . . . My interest is not one of idle curiosity, but that of a serious scholar who has published numerous articles and a book on the work of Schoenberg and his disciples during the past twenty-five years." Somehow, I feel that it would be unethical for me to suppress any information regarding the third act of Lulu that happens to be in my possession. I hasten to assure you of my readiness to collaborate with the publisher in any respect that does not violate my own ethical standards. I am extremely grateful to you and your colleagues for having given me permission to examine the material of the third act, but it seems to me that your possession of this material does not necessarily entitle you to restrict its use to "private study and personal information." For twenty-eight years now, pressing practical considerations have prevented you, in this particular instance, from fulfilling your main responsibility as a publisher, namely, to publish. It has always been my understanding, and, I believe, that of other musicians and scholars, that material which for some reason is not available for performance or publication should nevertheless be available for the study and information of responsible and authoritative investigators, and not merely for their "private and personal information" but for the purpose of disseminating the results of their investigations. Thus I cannot agree with you, when you say, "With the decision not to complete the third act of Lulu and therefore not to perform or publish it, it goes without saying that none of the hitherto unpublished parts of the third act should be made known to the public in any form whatsoever." Moreover, the opening clause of your statement is misleading. It should read, "With the decision not to complete the orchestration of the third act of Lulu. . . ." May I refer you to the first sentence of the publisher's note in the piano score, found in the first printing but subsequently deleted: "Alban Berg hat die Komposition der dreiaktigen Oper 'Lulu' kurz vor seinem Tode beendet" ["Alban Berg completed the composition of the three-act opera 'Lulu' shortly before his death"]. May I also point out that, while the decision "not to perform" follows from the decision "not to complete," the decision "not to publish" does not, especially when the composer is Alban Berg! (I assume that this was once the opinion of your firm too, since the same publisher's note concludes with the following sentence: "Die Veröffentlichung dieses Aktes an Hand der Kompositionsskizze Bergs wird zu einem späteren Zeitpunkt erfolgen" ["The publication of this act on the basis of Berg's draft of the composition will follow at a later time"]. I understand that Mrs. Berg has placed certain restrictions on the third act and that you feel obliged to submit to these restrictions. However, I cannot understand

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how any obligation to Mrs. Berg can prevent you from publishing the piano score of the third act, which Erwin Stein completed and prepared for publication up to the very last note. Surely Universal Edition must have had some guarantee that Mrs. Berg would not, or could not, interfere with the publication of the piano score of Act III, before commissioning Stein to undertake the very considerable task of preparing the score. I had always assumed that it was Hitler, not Mrs. Berg, who interrupted the publication of the piano reduction of the third act after almost half of it had been engraved. I have always preferred to look upon musicians with whom I share a common interest as colleagues rather than as competitors, and this is the sort of relationship I should look forward to with the "Viennese expert on Berg" whom you mention in your last letter, especially in view of your statement that he has "for some time back started to make the same studies, which you have made." I am amazed that information of such importance to me and to my work should have been withheld from me until this late date in the progress of my own studies. Naturally, it would be of interest to me, and perhaps even enlightening, to exchange ideas with such a person. In the present instance, however, a professional relationship appears to be excluded, since this particular expert wishes to remain anonymous, apparently, and, what is even more remarkable, has apparently refrained from publishing the results of his studies. May I point out that the very detailed report which I submitted to you on August 21,1963, and which describes very explicitly the work that must be done in order to arrive at an authentic realization of the third act, was not the result merely of two weeks of intensive investigations during my stay in Vienna last summer. Specifically, it was predicated on years of study of Berg's work in general and of the published portions of Lulu in particular. May I again refer you to my above-mentioned article on "The Music of Lulu: A New Analysis," in which the results of these studies were summarized. Under the circumstances, I must ask you for a certain assurance, as follows: Should you decide, with or without Mrs. Berg's consent, to commission someone other than myself to "complete" the third act of Lulu, may I be apprised of this decision, so that I may proceed at once to publish the results of my independent investigations? . . . Berg's masterpiece continued to be misrepresented in publication and performance, not only because it continued to be given in a truncated version but also because of the above-cited distortions and omissions in the two published acts—distortions and omissions that could certainly have been corrected without offending Mrs. Berg and to which I persistently called attention, without effect, in my articles and reviews after 1963, and in private communications as well. Through all these years there was nothing whatever to indicate that there was also a "Viennese expert on Berg" who was concerned in these matters. Between 1937 and 1949 there is no bibliographical reference whatever to Lulu,35 and between 1949 and 1954, when Mitchell's important if mistaken dramatic study of the work was published, 36 there are only paraphrased repetitions of Reich's "analysis" 37 and reviews of the first postwar revivals of the work (1949,1953: see 35 See Ploebsch 68, Bibliographie Nos. 975-1011. 36 Mitchell 54, MR. See my reply in Perle 64c, MR. y j See Chapter Four, note 48, above, and Perle 81a, p. 74.

"Eins nach dem A n d e r n " p. 264, above). Among the latter, Hans Keller's review of the Essen production deserves special mention, as the first to question the accepted view that all the twelve-tone sets in the opera are derivations from the Basic Series.38 The authorized "analysis" is paraphrased again in Redlich's book (1957), but the latter is nevertheless of signal importance in the critical history of the opera as the first detailed description of the third act and for its impassioned appeal that the scoring be completed. In 1959 I published my "new analysis,"39 and beginning in 1964 a series of articles and reviews whose purpose was to make the opera known as a complete entity, to whatever extent that could be accomplished given the continuing ban on Act III and the continuing sequestration of the relevant materials. On June 16, 1964, Redlich invited Adorno to join Stravinsky and myself on the Founding Committee of the International Alban Berg Society, explaining in a private covering letter that "we are about to take these steps because we are deeply concerned about the fate of the autographs of unpublished portions of Berg's work which have not only become inaccessible in recent times but may have got lost (as for instance the 40-odd pages of full score of Act 3 of Lulu which I have described in detail in my book and of which a photostat had been made which— according to the publishers—cannot be traced at present)."40 In his reply (June 22,1964) Adorno reassured Redlich as to the safety of the manuscripts, in view of Mrs. Berg's extremely conscientious attention to their preservation and protection, but expressed his sympathy with the main purpose of the projected society. In fact, he had been trying for years to influence Mrs. Berg to permit the completion of the instrumentation. Nevertheless, he found it impossible to join us, because of his close personal attachment to Mrs. Berg and his unwillingness to take any action that might be upsetting to her. Subsequently, however, he independently took such an action in his book on Berg, which appeared in 1968, the year before Adorno's death. Even he had been denied permission to examine the thirdact Particell, but he nevertheless argued most eloquently and convincingly for the completion of the scoring.41 Through all these years Dr. Friedrich Cerha, the Viennese expert on Berg, kept his own counsel. If there were remonstrances to the publisher and to producers of the opera, they were made privately and had no more effect than my 38 Keller 53, MR. 39 Perle 59, JAMS. 40 I was not shown this in Vienna during my study of the materials in August 1963.1 reported this fact to Redlich, w h o shortly thereafter (October 4, 1963) received a letter from Universal Edition admitting that the only copy in their possession, a photostat, had been sent to Erwin Stein in London shortly before the latter's death in 1958 and had never been recovered. (A letter dated May 26, 1964, from Lady Harewood, Erwin Stein's daughter, informed me that "there was a suggestion in about 1956, that he should orchestrate [Act III] from the sketches and he was very disappointed w h e n this plan fell through." The English edition of Redlich's book, p. 201, mentions Stein, rather than Zemlinsky, among the musicians w h o "were approached in turn by Berg's widow," but this is an error, as we know from Mrs. Berg's letter to Redlich of September 14, 1954.) The publisher was loath to approach Mrs. Berg, w h o was in possession of the manuscript, for permission to make another copy, because it was so difficult to talk to her about the third act. They solicited Redlich's assistance in tracing the missing photostat. (Perhaps this is the "lost" part of "Mappe 3" mentioned in Mrs. Berg's will [p. 269, above].) Presumably this unique photostat was eventually recovered, but see note 42, below. 41 Adorno 68, pp. 137ff.

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public remonstrances. We will give the history of Cerha's involvement with the opera in his o w n words: T h e first concert revivals of Berg's Lulu after World War II took place in V i e n n a o n February 15 a n d A p r i l 29,1949. . . . I a t t e n d e d the rehearsals of the orchestra a n d soloists diligently. . . . T h e staged p e r f o r m a n c e u n d e r Karl B ö h m at the Theater a n der W i e n o n June 9,1962, g a v e a n e w direction to m y v i e w of the w o r k : w h e r e a s at first it w a s a b o v e all its musical l a n g u a g e a n d sonority that e n g a g e d m e , n o w structure a n d f o r m b e c a m e the focus of m y i n t e r e s t — t h e c o m p l e x s y s t e m of relations that p e r v a d e s e v e r y a s p e c t a n d that m a k e s of the w o r k a self-contained, living o r g a n i s m , f r o m w h i c h n o t h i n g can be s u n d e r e d w i t h o u t brutally injuring a n d t h u s e n d a n g e r i n g the w h o l e . I observed, fascinated, h o w at e v e r y m o m e n t this s y s t e m s e r v e d a n d fulfilled the dramatic conception. T h u s all the m o r e p a i n f u l for m e w a s the absence of the third act f r o m the p r o d u c t i o n , all the m o r e d i s m a y i n g the g l u e i n g o n of the last t w o m o v e m e n t s of the Suite to the s e c o n d act in order to s h o w h o w the " s t o r y " c o m e s out. . . . T h e next day, w h e n I a s k e d about the materials for A c t III at Universal Edition, I w a s g i v e n a p h o t o c o p y of the 38-page fair c o p y of the score (the b e g i n n i n g of the third act), 42 another of Berg's Particell, a n d a c o p y of the c o m p l e t e vocal score b y E r w i n Stein. A l t h o u g h I k n e w , of course, H. F. Redlich's a r g u m e n t s in his b o o k o n Berg, in w h i c h h e p l e a d s for the completion of the opera o n the basis of w h a t is extant, I w a s a m a z e d w h e n there n o w actually lay b e f o r e m e , still closed, the large folio w h o s e first t w o parts I h a d studied a n d a n a l y z e d a n d w h o s e abrupt interruption I h a d so dramatically experienced in the p e r f o r m a n c e . H e n c e f o r t h , for m e , the q u e s tion of the restorability of the third act w a s not to be e v a d e d . It w a s clear to m e from the start that there w a s n o getting at the p r o b l e m w i t h doctrines about " p r i n c i p l e s " a n d general theses about the " t o r s o , " s u c h as h a v e b e e n so c o p i o u s l y a d v a n c e d recently in connection w i t h Lulu b y p e o p l e w h o k n o w nothi n g at all or barely a n y t h i n g of the source material. 4 3

W h y w a s the w i d o w ' s ban ignored in this instance, as it w a s to be for m e a year later? The directorate at Universal Edition, or part of it, w a s apparently willing to accede to demands that were importunate enough, k n e w that Mrs. Berg could not enforce her ban in perpetuity, regarded that ban as having no legal status in any case, recognized in Cerha a person of extraordinary discretion and patience, and decided to exercise its o w n legal right to commission, in secret, a completion of the scoring. It is in the nature of things that one cannot anticipate the insights, judgments, and second thoughts of genius, so w e can never k n o w to w h a t extent and in w h a t respects Berg's o w n orchestration might have differed materially from Cerha's, but one does not have the impression that a hand other than the composer's has had to take over the instrumental realization of the unscored portions of the Particell. The task w a s a more difficult one than I implied in m y letter of A u g u s t 21, 1963, to Kalmus. 4 4 1 agree with Cerha's criticism of m y report as tending toward oversimplification, which he correctly attributes to special pleading motivated by the h o p e of ending the suppression and misrepresentation of the 42 I do not know h o w to reconcile this statement with Universal Edition's report to Redlich that their unique photostat of this manuscript was missing at this time. 43 Cerha 79, p. 2. 44 Perle 64a, PNM.

" E i n s nach d e m A n d e r n " third-act materials. 45 In my letter I suggested a minimum solution, a literal restatement wherever possible of Berg's own scoring of earlier versions of recapitulated passages. In several instances there is every reason to suppose that a literal restatement is precisely what the composer intended, but elsewhere the recapitulative character of a passage does not necessarily imply a literal return to an earlier instrumentation. In 1963 it seemed better to emphasize solutions, even questionable ones, rather than problems, not only because the situation at the time justified special pleading but also because I hesitated to present a warrant for "originality" to anyone who might someday assume the responsibility of preparing a full score of the third act. Nowhere has Cerha opted for a minimum solution. By carefully comparing the Particell of all three acts with the full score as far as Berg had progressed with the latter, Cerha thoroughly familiarized himself with Berg's own working methods. Where a literal restatement of a previously scored passage seems to have been intended, this is what Cerha has given us; where it is not implied he has prepared a concordance of Berg's own orchestrations of the same or similar passages, compared variants and contexts, both musical and dramatic, in which they appear, 46 and finally provided a scoring of the passage in question that seems right and appropriate in every respect. He has meticulously studied Berg's style as to phrasing, articulation, dynamics, tempi, and orthography, so that even the most idiosyncratic features of Berg's score are carried over into Cerha's score as well. In short, I cannot see how the instrumentation of the unscored portions of the Particell could have been more conscientiously realized. The instrumentation was by far the most time-consuming but not the most problematical task required for the completion of the third act. The Particell of Act III is continuous from first bar to last, but in the first part of the final scene only the melody of the Barrel Organ Music is given, and in the vocal quartet following the arrival of Countess Geschwitz with Lulu's portrait only the orchestral music and the part of Aiwa are complete. As we have seen (p. 270, above), the context in which these incomplete bars appear is such that a completion by another hand presents no serious difficulties. Nevertheless, the necessity of writing in pitches and rhythms where the composer has failed to provide them is a much more troubling responsibility than that of determining the instrumentation of pitches and rhythms already given, even where the lacunae occur in a context that establishes a strictly circumscribed domain of possible choices for the determination of pitches and rhythms. Since the copy of the libretto containing the missing text of mm. 980-1002 was not known to Cerha at the time, he was faced with the additional task here of finding words for the parts of Lulu, Countess Geschwitz, and Schigolch. In his musical solution Cerha followed Berg's own practice of doubling various linear details that appear in the orchestral part. The result is eminently successful, an ecstatic high point in which the unfolding of the drama is suspended as the past is momentarily recovered for each of the four characters as they look upon the portrait. The problem of the missing text, however, was not 45 Cerha 79, p. 18.

46 Cf. pp. 233f., above.

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solved successfully for the part of Lulu, 47 a deficiency that can easily be corrected now that we know the text Berg himself had prepared for the "sketched-in" concluding section of the Quartet. In Ensembles II and III of Act III, Scene 1, there are indications for supplementing the music that is written out in the Particell. Cerha describes these as follows: 1) Berg's fair copy of the full score reaches m. 260 on page 39. There then follow . . . three blank manuscript pages. The full score ends on p. 43, where the continuation, marked mm. 261-268 by Berg, is found. A t the top of page 40 (the first blank page) the following remark appears: " 2 2 bar insert for the purpose of possibly lengthening the ensemble and clarifying the Lulu-Geschwitz dialogue." In the Particell (page 33) the following appears above m. 261, relative to the working-out of this insert: "The 1 1 bars from 2 6 1 - 2 7 1 possibly three times. The ist time, of course, 261-264 a s given, 2 6 5 - 2 7 1 without Lulu; the same the 2nd time, but Lulu instead of Geschwitz (Geschwitz remains silent); the 3rd time both together." 48 2) In the third ensemble, mm. 6 3 3 - 6 5 2 , Berg has only worked out the dialogue between the Mother and the Banker and the daughter's cry—after her Mother has fallen in a faint—"Wake up, Mama, wake up!" For the remaining voices of the ensemble, from m. 634 through the first eighth-note of m. 652, there is only a w a v y line with the indication, "Everyone softly murmuring." 4 9

In Ensemble II Cerha has realized the 22-bar optional insert in accordance with the indications provided in the Particell. As to Ensemble III, the short score of the orchestral part is complete in the Particell and there would seem to be little doubt that the direction "Leises Gemurmel aller" is a shorthand indication for what would eventually have been fully worked out consistently with the corresponding bars of Ensembles I and II and with the preceding bars of Ensemble III. This is how Cerha has worked out the "Rhabarba" closing episode of Ensemble III. 50 If our assumption regarding his intention is correct, Berg would have had to complete the Ensemble on supplementary sheets, as with the Quartet of the final scene, since he did not leave sufficient space for this in the Particell.51 I first published the list of dramatis personae that Berg would surely have provided, had he survived to supervise the publication of the opera, in 1964. At last, though not yet in the performance materials of the opera, Aiwa was correctly identified as a composer rather than a writer; the name of the Acrobat, Rodrigo, was deleted; and the proper doubling and tripling of roles were shown. My conclusions were entirely based on the internal evidence of the work itself, above all on a detailed musical analysis. In 1975 these conclusions were confirmed by Douglas Jarman from Berg's own sketches, which were inadvertently shown to him in the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek. 52 Cerha's dramatis personae corre47 See Perle 79b, 1ABSN, from which this discussion of the Cerha edition is largely taken. 48 Cerha 79, p. 11. 49 Ibid., p. 13. 50 Ibid., n. 25: "The concept, 'Rhabarba Ensemble/ derives from German theater jargon and refers to the confused murmur produced by a crowd through the constant repetition of the word 'Rhabarber' ['rhubarb']." 51 Cf. pp. 271 f., above. 52 Jarman 78, IABSN.

" E i n s nach d e m A n d e r n "

sponds exactly to my own except for one detail. He assigns the role of the Banker to the same "Low Buffo Bass" who takes the role of the Theater Director in I/3. But the respective vocal ranges of the two parts are not the same. In the twelve-part vocal ensemble of III/i the part of the Banker is placed between the "low baritone" part of the Servant and the "heroic bass" part of the Acrobat. Cerha evidently bases this pairing of roles on a sketch of the dramatis personae that Berg must have made before he began work on Act III and that contains other discrepancies that are corrected in Cerha's list.53 The special serial procedures associated with the Banker occur elsewhere only in connection with the speaking role of the Medical Specialist in the opening scene. The latter is in turn paired with the silent role of the Professor in the final scene, through the return of Lulu's Recitative with the Painter and of the preceding Canzonetta, which she sings as she contemplates the corpse of her dead husband. The three roles are thus assigned to a single performer and should have been designated as follows in Cerha's edition: Der Medizinalrat (I. Akt) Der Bankier (III. Akt, 1. Szene) Der Professor (III. Akt, 2. Szene)

Sprechrolle (Spielbass) Hoher Bass Stumme Figur

The error is, relatively, a minor one. But to describe any discrepancy as "minor" in a work all of whose parts are ordered in such an incredibly rigorous and complex system of interrelations is like speaking of a "minor discrepancy" in an astronomical system. That one small discrepancy must force the analyst to question his basic hypotheses and conclusions or to assume an inexplicable inconsistency on the part of the composer. Cerha reports that he completed his "performable version of the third act" between 1962 and 1974 and revised it again, after Mrs. Berg's death, in 1976/77, in connection with the publication of the vocal score and libretto.54 Misleading inferences might be drawn from this statement as to the scope and difficulty of this task, which should not have required as many months for its execution as he claims to have given years. Cerha proceeded with his work with the express understanding, between himself and Director Alfred Schlee of Universal Edition, that nothing whatever concerning it would be made publicly known before Mrs. Berg's death, 55 and the years were thus there for him, whether or not he needed them. But no amount of time could conceivably have been sufficient for a "Herstellung des 3. Akts der Oper Lulu" that one might dare to offer as a "definitive" version. It is their always problematical character and the ambiguities that are newly understood and resolved in every interpretation of the work that account for the continuing life of a masterpiece. In this instance the material representation of the work in a definitive score can never be achieved, for we can never know that the third-act "Herstellung" is truly "authentic," precisely because the opera is a masterpiece, a composition that must be ranked—but only in its three-act version, and this is surely enough to justify Cerha's work—along with Stravinsky's Le Sacre du printemps, Schoenberg's Five Pieces for Orchestra, and perhaps a 53 Ibid., p. 8. Cf. Chapter Two, note 47, above.

54 Cerha 79, p. 1.

55 Ibid., p. 39.

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very f e w other w o r k s , a m o n g the uniquely significant, uniquely original, a n d supremely important musical creations of our century. It is not a " f l a w e d masterpiece," but p e r h a p s it w o u l d h a v e been " m o r e perfect" h a d Berg s u r v i v e d to see it through publication and production, and h a d he not h a d to live a n d w o r k in his last t w o years in such devastatingly depressing a n d demoralizing circumstances. A s it is, t w o of the three episodes in Act III, all in the first scene, w h e r e it seems to m e there is a failure in quality and realization, are in portions of the w o r k completed in the composer's o w n fair copy of the full score, and the third is fully w o r k e d out in the Particeli. The first of these is the Duet b e t w e e n L u l u a n d the Marquis, the second the closing section of Ensemble I with its semitonal " p a t t e r " figures at m m . 42ff., a n d the third a brief p a s s a g e in the Duet b e t w e e n L u l u a n d the Acrobat at her first reference to the C o u n t e s s (mm. 3i6ff.). I h a v e already expressed m y reservations respecting Duet I (p. 149, above). The other two episodes, w h i c h are only passing details, trouble m e because of their banality, w h i c h is not thoroughly e n o u g h developed to make any interesting dramatic point or to acquire a larger musical meaning. Certainly, had Berg survived to " o v e r h a u l " the w o r k again after completing the scoring, and yet again in the course of rehearsals, and still again after the first p e r f o r m a n c e , as opera composers are regularly k n o w n to d o , the Lulu w e w o u l d have today w o u l d be different in certain details, probably significantly so, even in those sections of the w o r k that the composer himself had completed in the fair copy of the full score by the time of his death. A s to Cerha's silence respecting the deficiencies and misrepresentations of Acts I and II in publication a n d p e r f o r m a n c e while he w a s still at w o r k a n d his silence respecting the brutal violations the opera has suffered in p e r f o r m a n c e since the publication of his " H e r s t e l l u n g , " w e will let him speak for himself: " I s a w it as m y duty to m a k e available to the public the w o r k of one of the greatest composers in a w a y that c o n f o r m s to his conception in the highest possible degree. H o w the public reacts to it and h o w it conducts itself in relation to it is n o w — as with every w o r k of literature—its affair." 5 6 N o t only w a s Cerha's " p e r f o r m a b l e v e r s i o n " secretly completed w h i l e Mrs. Berg w a s still alive, but so, it seems, w a s the decision m a d e to give the rights to the world première of the three-act Lulu to the Paris Opéra. R u m o r s to this effect began to circulate almost immediately after her death and w e r e confirmed some months later b y the publisher. The A l b a n Berg Stiftung took legal action to prevent the release and distribution of the Cerha edition, as it w a s b o u n d to d o b y the terms of Mrs. Berg's will. What the two parties agreed to call a " s e t t l e m e n t " of their differences w a s finally a n n o u n c e d fifteen months after the Paris première a n d described as follows in the Wiener Kurier of M a y 2 6 , 1 9 8 0 : " T h e Berg Stiftung previously stormed against the third-act completion b y Friedrich Cerha. The settlement that n o w follows says, in effect, that the Berg Stiftung assents to the perf o r m a n c e of the three-act Lulu, but it reserves the right of veto if the three-act version is p e r f o r m e d 'too often.' . . . 'We only w a n t the two-act version to remain available as well, in conformance with the terms of Helene Berg's last will and 56 Cerha 81, ÔMz, p. 550.

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testament.'" It seems safe to assume that there will be no one to protest this extraordinary misreading of the terms of Helene Berg's last will and testament. With this "settlement" Mrs. Berg's legal authority as the "loyal guardian of Alban Berg's heritage" was definitively voided. Her moral authority was already fatally impaired by this time as well. On January 24, 1977, five months after the death of Helene Berg, I saw the annotated score of the Lyric Suite for the first time, a document that instantly confuted the legendary account of the idyllic married life of the Bergs, conjointly fabricated by husband and wife and repeated in every biography. 57 The following year I published a report on Helene Berg's letters to her closest friend, Alma Mahler.58 Among these are letters, written after her husband's death, in which Mrs. Berg confirms the falsity of the accepted view of their marriage, a view that she nevertheless perpetuated to the end of her life. The last letter in this collection establishes that her decision to prohibit the completion of the score of Act III of Lulu was taken unilaterally and that it had nothing whatever to do with the advice of Schoenberg, Webern, Zemlinsky, or any other musician. Writing to Alma Mahler on June 24, 1937, she describes the impression that the Zurich première had made on her: . . . In Zurich, against all expectations, it went astonishingly well. Once more it was proven that in performance nothing can ruin Alban's operas. But this performance was really at a high level, and now and then even outstanding! At the theater they were rather reserved when I appeared so early: they were uncertain about how I might find their work and what my attitude to it would be. After the first rehearsal, however, a good relationship was established and I won their confidence. They listened attentively to my wishes and took everything I said with good will. Denzler [the conductor] a very fine musician, Schmidt-Bloss a splendid director, the singers young gifted people, of good cheer and full of respect for the work. How much industry, devotion, faith, love they gave to it! Of the music one can say nothing, one must hear it! It is of a beauty and truthfulness that effaces everything hateful and repulsive in the text and leaves only an unquestionably great work of art. When I heard it sounding for the first time it seemed so deeply familiar to me, as though it came from me and was my own speech. There are places in it where one feels that one is no longer on this earth. Alban has grasped the depth of two things and has understood how to give it back again: the mystery of love and of death. The beginning and end of our earthly existence. It is also worth noting that I was always prejudiced against this Wedekind, but since I've heard the music for it, this music, it's different. Lulu is just as dear to me now as Wozzeck. I love it and tremble for it, as for a child. It is a fearful thing and people don't like it, when one illuminates their depths; but when Aiwa sings of Lulu, in tender ecstasy, "A soul, rubbing the sleep from its eyes in the next world," I know now that this dream also had to be written, for it has its own profound meaning. That the opera is stageworthy as a torso doesn't surprise me; I have learned to trust in that which is Higher, it has all happened ac-

57 My discovery and its implications were reported in the New York Times on March 27, and in the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung on April 28,1977. A detailed description of the annotated score was published in June in Perle 77c, IABSN, and the same plus a discussion of its implications for our understanding of Berg's character and of his wife's role in his biography in August/September/October in Perle 77d, MT. A German translation of the latter was published in Perle 78a, ÓMz. 58 Perle 78b, IABSN, Verbatim extracts from the letters were published in Perle 80b, ÓMz.

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cording to a plan. H o w could Alban, w h o had so much to say and to give, have been called away if his last work, which nothing else can touch, had not been left, in some possible way, "complete." Even those w h o today face his work without understanding or with misgivings—for he w a s so far in advance of them—will gradually grow into it, until a time comes w h e n people will at last know w h o Alban Berg was. . . . 59

Mrs. Berg did not at once infer, from her decision that the work was "stageworthy as a torso" and that an attempt to bring the complete work to production would constitute an interference with a divinely conceived plan, that the portions of Act III which were not already published as part of the Lulu Suite ought to be suppressed. On the contrary, in a letter to the publisher on June 1 2 , 1 9 3 7 , ten days after the Zurich première, she insisted on their publication: I've had to acquiesce in your acting from considerations of economy, . . . since I can't help but understand the viewpoint of the publisher in circumscribing the printing of a work that is incomplete and that might therefore not be performable and successful, and which might thus always carry a risk. N o w , however, that these legitimate concerns have been obviated by the great success of the première, I revert today to m y wish, already known to you for a long time: namely, the publication, as soon as possible, of the vocal score of A c t III, the complete libretto . . . and the full score to that very bar where the catastrophe struck Alban Berg himself, Lulu's last victim. . . . I know that you cannot feel differently than I do, and every good musician: that one simply has a duty, with such a great work, . . . to publish just as much as there is, and that not the least thing should be withheld from the world. We owe this to Alban and to his magnificent creation. 60

The publisher replied that they saw it as their "absolute duty to publish Act III as soon as possible." They suggested, however, that there were tactical and practical reasons for a temporary delay, pending completion of the full score. "If we bring out the complete third act in the vocal score now, the press and the theaters will also demand Act III for performance." 61 If the publisher could have anticipated the extent to which political developments and the war would protract that delay, they would not have waited, and by the time publication was again politically and economically possible Mrs. Berg had come to understand that she could not hope to defend a ban on the performance of Act III without also preventing the publication, and, finally, even the inspection, of the third-act materials. The eventual decision to present an incomplete Lulu at the Zurich première was understood by everyone concerned at the time as a temporary expedient. The performance was originally scheduled for November 1936, and it was at first assumed that a fully orchestrated third act would be available in time for this. Immediately after Berg's death it was reported that Schoenberg had agreed to complete the score. According to Schoenberg's biographer, "In his letter of condolence to Helene Berg he offered to undertake the orchestration of the third act of Lulu. She thanked him with happiness about this proposal on 14 January 1936: . . the first ray of light in my darkness!'" 62 On January 20, 1936, exactly four weeks after Berg's death, his brother, Charley, wrote to the American friend 59 Perle 80b, ÒMz, pp. 13f. 60 Cerha 79, p. 38. 61 Ibid., p. 39. 62 Stuckenschmidt 77, pp. 412f.

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of his youth, Frieda Semler: "Schoenberg, his dear teacher, who now resides in the United States, has agreed to orchestrate the third act of this opera which Alban had not fully orchestrated, and this with no financial remuneration." 63 A footnote to Reich's article on Lulu that was published later the same year states, "Universal Edition, the publishers of Lulu, have announced that Arnold Schoenberg is completing the instrumentation, and that the opera is to receive its world première in Zurich in November." 64 It seems strange that Schoenberg could have committed himself to a completion of the scoring before he had seen anything of the music other than the Prologue and the Lulu Suite. 65 He was in serious financial straits and it is difficult to imagine that he could have agreed in advance, apart from the question of remuneration, to a task whose extent and difficulty he did not yet know. He had an unfinished opera of his own, Moses und Aron, on his hands. His letter of March 9/11 to Erwin Stein does not indicate that he had made the definite commitments assumed by Helene Berg and Charley Berg. The reservations he expresses to Stein are first of all of a technical nature, the difficulty of realizing a "conception [that] is fundamentally different from mine" (see p. 235, above). But there are also practical considerations. "Even if I could devote all my working time to this matter it wouldn't be possible to think of making the deadline. But, as you will understand, even if I were prepared to give up all my own work during this period, I wouldn't be able to spare this time which I need for the earning of my daily bread and for many unpleasant and unavoidable tasks." But now that he had seen the Particeli and the libretto he had other and stronger grounds for declining to complete the score: But none of these are the reasons w h y I can't do this w o r k . For in the beginning I w a s ready to make every sacrifice and to d o everything possible, so as to finish in time for a n eventual deadline that might only be slightly postponed. H o w e v e r , after I had first of all acquainted myself a bit with the notes, I b e g a n . . the Saujud," and at to read the libretto, and in A c t III, page 46, line 1 3 , 1 f o u n d line 1 5 , " . . . falling more and more into jiidelnd (sic)." Instead of the second remark the Particeli, in Berg's hand, has "(mauschelnd)." 6 6 T h e music expresses the breaking of the voice through high, screeching notes and the Gemauschel through l o w ìóths. I got hold of the t w o Wedekind originals, in w h i c h the Generaldirektor [Banker] carries the n a m e " P u n t s c h u " and uses Jewish turns of phrase as well. T h e t w o required expressions, Jüdeln or Mauscheln, don't appear, however, but are Berg's trimmings, w h i c h unfortunately w o u l d n ' t have done him a n y g o o d with the N a z i s . If that's w h a t he anticipated? Probably in the pre-Nazi period I w o u l d h a v e felt this to be, admittedly, disagreeable, but, since this Puntschu in Wedekind is hardly less likable than

63 Harris 81, p. 207. 64 Reich 36, MQ, p. 401. 65 Berg had sent the manuscript of the Prologue to Schoenberg on the occasion of the latter's sixtieth birthday (September 13, 1934), and the newly published score of the Suite in December 1934. See Stuckenschmidt 77, p. 404. 66 Saujud, "Jew-pig," may be rendered in English as "dirty Jew." There is no English synonym for jiidelnd, mauschelnd, or (in the next sentence) Gemauschel, derogatory terms for vulgar Jewish jargon. The ellipses and "(sic)" are Schoenberg's. His citations are from page 44, lines 12 and 14 (counting anew after the blank space on the page) of the original typescript, in the possession of the Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, not page 46, lines 13 and 15. The discrepancy is due to Schoenberg's use of another typescript of the same version of the libretto. Where Schoenberg has "jiidelnd (sic)" the copy in the library has "jüdeln."

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his other heroes, I would have drawn no conclusions from it. But today, no matter whether Puntschu is likable or not, right or wrong, it's my country.67 A n d one can't really expect of me that I should be sufficiently inspired in my orchestration of this place to give the sharpest characterization to the insult, "a scoundrel because he's a Jew." In which connection it should not be forgotten that in the theater this scoundrel, too, like other scoundrels, might have been made more characteristic by being characterized through his special meanness rather than through his Mauscheln, just as I would hesitate to represent a hypocrite by means of a Polish or a braggart by means of a Prussian accent. I think you should not give Mrs. Berg any explanation other than the one alleged in the accompanying letter to U.E. I also consider it unnecessary for the public to learn anything about this, although personally I'm not troubled about shouldering the responsibility. But I don't want to injure Berg in my own circle or in any other, and above all, I want to have the possibility of forgetting it of him myself. For I regret that in these days I am no longer able to reward anti-Semitism with a favor that I should have liked to have rendered to him. . . . Understand me rightly: I should like to suppose that Berg has done this, difficult as it is to understand, out of thoughtlessness, although in this period of the most extensive persecution of J e w s it seems hardly credible that anyone could fail to give thought to something that gives his friends cause for thought. But conceding thoughtlessness, Mauscheln in these days certainly seems to be respectable rather than an indication of knavery, w h e n I know so many respectable people w h o mauscheln, and when I know of so many w h o were found worthy of the honor of martyrdom only because of their Mauscheln. A m I now to be inspired to orchestrate music that is already characterized by a special coarseness, in that this person is a Jew, since he mauschelt? I'm sorry to be the cause of a delay in the instrumentation, but I could not have foreseen this. I hope that in spite of this someone else will still be able to get it ready in time, especially if he is able to receive good technical data from you or Reich, which weren't available to me in good time. 68 But perhaps it will console everyone concerned if I say that I'm almost certain that I would not have been able to make this deadline, and that though I'm ready for every sacrifice I'm not sure that I ought to lose [a] year now, when I'm almost sixty-two and have only a limited number of years left for my own work. But again, this is not what moved me to decline. 69 Schoenberg's letter, with the hope expressed therein that " s o m e o n e else will still be able to get it ready in time," is indisputable evidence for w h a t w a s only circumstantially inferable before its publication: the totally fictional character of Mrs. Berg's later assertions regarding the advice she received from him. We have no such direct evidence—signed statements b y the parties themselves—contradicting her identical assertions about Webern and Zemlinsky, both of w h o m are mentioned in Stein's reply (April 3 0 , 1 9 3 6 ) to Schoenberg: Given the matter as it stands at present, Lulu will remain incomplete. We asked Webern and Zemlinsky whether they would do the instrumentation. Webern hasn't declined as yet. He will occupy himself with the Particell for a while longer, but I can't imagine that anything will come of it. Zemlinsky, as a practical man of the theater, at 67 The phrase that I have italicized is given in English in Schoenberg's letter. 68 In the first part of his letter Schoenberg complains of the publisher's delay in sending the materials of Act III; in resuming his letter after receiving them he complains of the publisher's failure to include in their shipment, for purposes of comparison, the music of Acts I and II. 69 Szmolyan 77b, ÓMz, pp. 398ff.

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first seemed much inclined. After two days' study he decided not to do it and suggested that just what Berg brought to completion should be performed. And that is probably what will happen. We've suggested to the director at Zurich that he present the two finished acts and give a purely symphonic performance of the Adagio from the "Symphonic Pieces" [Lulu Suite] as an epilogue.70

Completion of the scoring in time for the Zurich première was, in any case, out of the question. Webern would have been a most unlikely candidate for the task, as Adorno points out in commenting on his supposed refusal: "Webern probably shunned the responsibility which he would have had to assume, as much as he did the burden. To the suggestion that he might, after his masterly arrangement of the Bach Ricercare, complete and orchestrate the Art of the Fugue, he replied that he would then have to give up composition for the rest of his life. He would not have felt differently about Lulu."71 Nevertheless, Director Schlee of Universal Edition, in an article published immediately after the war, before Mrs. Berg had made public her supposed recollection of Webern's recommendations on the subject, reported that "at one time he announced that he wished to complete the unfinished parts of Berg's Lulu, but this remained only an intention." 72 Various rumors concerning a completion of the work preceded the post-war revival. The following report, for example, appeared in the German-American weekly newspaper Aufbau (1949, No. 21, p. 17): "Alban Berg's unfinished opera, Lulu, is to be completed. Shortly before his death Anton von Webern decided to complete the work. Now Arnold Schoenberg has proposed René Leibowitz for the completion. However, the directors of the Venice Biennale, who will present a first staged performance in the autumn of 1950, have proposed Luigi Dallapiccola. A decision has not yet been reached." Of Zemlinsky's involvement Adorno writes: "Zemlinsky, finally, was so pre-Schoenbergian as a composer, that for all his solidarity he must have, with good reason, held himself back as unsuitable." 73 Eventually Mrs. Berg herself came to realize, or was made to realize, that there was an absolute time limit beyond which neither she nor her posthumous agent, the Alban Berg Stiftung, could expect to exercise any authority whatever in preventing the "completion" of Berg's Lulu. With the termination of the copyright on the published material there would be nothing to prevent someone from providing his own version of a third act. In the face of this contingency she was willing to compromise her position. She secretly prepared an informal codicil to her last will and testament and left this in the custody of the composer's nephew, Erich Alban Berg: "When the copyright expires there is the danger that someone might undertake the instrumentation. If this should occur, A. B.'s incomplete score must be surrendered, rather than that the work should be completed by a strange hand." 74 What, now, are we to make of those "trimmings" to Wedekind's text that 70 Ibid., pp. 400f. 71 Adorno 68, p. 137. 72 Schlee 46, MM, p. 97. 73 Adorno 68, pp. 137f. 74 Mrs. Berg's statement is reprinted in facsimile in E. A. Berg 80, SM. I am grateful to Mr. Berg for his personal communication to me regarding this statement.

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S c h o e n b e r g f o u n d s o o f f e n s i v e i n t h e c o n c l u d i n g b a r s o f A c t III, S c e n e 1 , o f t h e o p e r a ? To a s k t h i s is, f i r s t of all, t o a s k w h a t B e r g h i m s e l f m a d e o f t h e m . It is difficult to i m a g i n e that h e c o u l d h a v e i n t e n d e d t h e m to carry the offensive s e n s e inferred b y S c h o e n b e r g , to w h o m Berg h a d d e d i c a t e d the w o r k in h o n o r of S c h o e n b e r g ' s sixtieth birthday w i t h the f o l l o w i n g w o r d s : M y dearest friend! I k n o w that in answer to m y — t o A l w a ' s question " M a y I come in?" (the first w o r d s of the opera Lulu after the curtain rises) y o u w o u l d a n s w e r with Schon, "Just make yourself at h o m e , " a n d that then I w o u l d put into m y embrace all the feelings that fill m y soul o n this 13th September [Schoenberg's birthday]. T h a t — t h e fact that I can only do this from a d i s t a n c e — i s one thing that pains m e this day. A n o t h e r pain is that I cannot approach y o u with a real present, but only with a dedication. Please accept it, not only as a product of years of w o r k earnestly undertaken for y o u r sake, but also as a documentation of m y innermost conviction, as a document for all to see. The w h o l e w o r l d , and the G e r m a n w o r l d too, shall recognize in the dedication of this G e r m a n opera that it is indigenous in the sphere of the most G e r m a n music, w h i c h will bear your name for time everlasting. . . , 75 T h e r e is a n o t h e r d e d i c a t e e a s w e l l , a s w e k n o w f r o m B e r g ' s l e t t e r s t o h e r , w h o s e n a m e is n o t g i v e n o n t h e title p a g e o f t h e o p e r a b u t is i n s t e a d e n c o d e d i n i t s P r o logue and closing b a r s — H a n n a Fuchs-Robettin. She, too, w a s Jewish. So, too, w a s E r w i n S t e i n , w h o r e s p o n d e d a s f o l l o w s o n b e h a l f of h i s f e l l o w - s t u d e n t u n d e r S c h o e n b e r g of thirty y e a r s b e f o r e , a n d his close friend: Dear Mr. Schoenberg, I thank y o u w a r m l y for y o u r letter of March 9th and 11th. I completely understand the reasons that have induced y o u to give u p the completion of Lulu, a n d the f e w p e o p l e w h o m I've apprised of the actual circumstances a n d s h o w n y o u r letter to understand them also. These are, aside from m y w i f e , Winter a n d Jalowetz. I've also given some hints to Steuermann. I'm not in favor of a n y o n e e l s e — n o t Webern either—learning about it. A t most, I'll still s h o w the letter to K a l m u s , w h o is at the m o m e n t in N e w York a n d will be returning at the e n d of M a y — b u t only if the official reasons for y o u r declination don't seem s o u n d e n o u g h to him. I a m absolutely sure, however, that it w a s only thoughtlessness o n the part of B e r g — e v e n if that " o n l y " w o n ' t count for anything w i t h y o u . A f t e r all, he prepared the libretto in pre-Hitler times. I don't believe there could have been a more severe p u n i s h m e n t for him than that the sketches with the remark " G e m a u s c h e l " should have come into y o u r hands. H o w thoughtless others are as w e l l — I can't exclude myself from a m o n g them, alt h o u g h I n o w recall that the "Gott der G e r e c h t e " [ " G o d of the righteous"] in the completed [portion of the] full score shocked m e — c a n be seen in the fact that n o b o d y took offense at the libretto, a n d Heinsheimer, in a recent talk, mentioned that in an opera thejiidelnden banker must be just so. 76 T h e excuse that B e r g h a d " p r e p a r e d the libretto in pre-Hitler t i m e s " m u s t h a v e struck S c h o e n b e r g as v e r y feeble i n d e e d . In 1921, s e v e n y e a r s b e f o r e B e r g h a d e v e n b e g u n t o w o r k o n t h e l i b r e t t o of Lulu, a n t i - S e m i t i c r e s t r i c t i o n s i m p o s e d b y the t o w n council h a d f o r c e d S c h o e n b e r g to l e a v e M a t t s e e , n e a r S a l z b u r g ,

75 Reich 65, p. 177. This copy of the letter is taken from a draft dated August 28,1934. 76 Szmolyan 77b, OMz, p. 400.

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where he had planned to spend a working summer. 77 On May 4,1923, replying to a letter from Kandinsky inviting him to teach at the Bauhaus in Weimar, and having heard rumors of anti-Semitic tendencies among its members, Schoenberg wrote: ". . . When I walk along the street and each person looks at me to see whether I'm a Jew or a Christian, I can't very well tell each of them that I'm the one that Kandinsky and some others make an exception of, although of course that man Hitler is not of their opinion. And then even this benevolent view of me wouldn't be much use to me, even if I were, like blind beggars, to write it on a piece of cardboard and hang it round my neck for everyone to read." 78 In any event, Hitler had been in power fifteen months by the time Berg completed the Particell in May 1934. Berg made numerous revisions in the libretto in the course of composition, but he did not delete the textual inserts that Schoenberg found offensive. And by the time he set to work on the full score of Act III79 Hitler had been in power for almost three years. Various details in the Particell are revised in the full score, and Berg might by this time have had the thoughtfulness to eliminate the "Gott der Gerechte" that even Stein, for all his goodwill, had found shocking. This addition to Wedekind's text is assigned only to the Banker in the ensemble of ten voices celebrating their winnings at the gaming table at mm. 252257. Berg may not have expected "that the sketches with the remark 'Gemauschel'" would ever come to Schoenberg's hand, but he must have expected that the score of this work, dedicated to Schoenberg and "earnestly undertaken for [his] sake," would do so. Berg must have supposed that Schoenberg, like those "thoughtless others" to whom Stein refers in his letter, would not take offense. In Vienna, even at this late date, presumably "nobody"—not even Jews—"took offense" at such things. 80 From Adorno's plea for the completion of the scoring in his 1968 book on Berg it is clear that he was among those few who were aware of Schoenberg's real explanation for refusing to do so: "There were no musical reasons for Schoenberg's refusal, but rather such as rested on a miscomprehension, one that must be understood and absolutely respected, of Berg's intentions. That refusal is an expression of the merciless confusion of events in the Hitler years, rather than something that should still be binding after long decades. What Schoenberg objected to could easily be set aside." 81 Cerha attempts to set it aside in the following paragraphs: . . . Schoenberg takes offense first of all at the word Saujud, which the Journalist directs to the Banker (m. 591). Such a critical Jew as Karl Kraus took no offense at this passage, and rightly so, for a typical attitude of non-Jew to Jew is shown here. The Journalist is willing to accept an invitation together with the Banker, eats with him, joins him at the gaming table, does business with him; only when all this turns to his disadvantage—for which the Banker is entirely blameless—does he remember the 77 See Berg 71a, pp. 291f. 78 Schoenberg 65, p. 89. 79 Berg had not yet completed the scoring of Act II, when he interrupted his work on Lulu between late April and mid-August 1935 to write the Violin Concerto, according to his letter of October 18,1935, to Heinsheimer (Cerha 79, p. 7). 80 Cf. Perle 78b, IABSN, p. 6. 81 Adorno 68, p. 137.

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Jewishness of his opposite and reviles the Banker with the vituperative expression "Saujud." Thus the passage has an anti-Aryan rather than an anti-Semitic bias. Schoenberg seems to have been especially taken aback by the discovery that the direction for the Jewish Banker to mauschelti (m. 597) is not found in Wedekind; an especially large part of his letter is taken up by his comments in this connection. Like the full score of Acts I and II, the Particell of Act III presents numerous additions by Berg that have to do with the staging and direction. Through greater exactitude in detail, through keenness of characterization, he seeks to heighten the level of dramatic verisimilitude. (One has only to think of the exceedingly careful choreography in the Pantomime, or of the passages where the exact instant of a gesture is fixed. For example, at the close of III/i, where the Page, in Lulu's clothes, darts diagonally across the room to the rear, the moment when his glance falls on Lulu's picture is exactly indicated [m. 688], a counterpart to the scene with the Manservant in Act II [m. 296].) An anti-Semitic attitude is no more to be found here than an antiSlavic attitude in the "Bohmakeln" of Hofmannsthal's Unbestechlichen and many other stage figures of Austrian provenance.82

No name more relevant than that of Karl Kraus can be invoked in an attempt to explain or justify Berg's characterization of the Banker as a Jew, but not for the reason that Cerha offers. Karl Kraus was indeed a very critical Jew, but there was hardly anything he was more critical of than what he characterized as "Jewish." Next to Schoenberg there was perhaps no one whom Berg admired and respected as he did Kraus. It is a name that occurs repeatedly throughout the Letters to His Wife (cf. p. 40, above). Every appearance of Kraus's irregularly issued journal, Die Fackel, is greeted with boundless enthusiasm: ". . . How different the day looks when there is no letter from you, . . . from the day when two letters arrive together, or the Fackel appears . . ." (August 2, 1909); ". . . Here is Die Fackel, another marvel of deep wisdom and brilliant humor. . . . Reading this whole issue gave me a joy of spirit such as I have rarely known, free from all dross and disappointment. I think of the mediocre productions of Wagner and Strauss at the Vienna Opera, the concerts this year, where Mahler's symphonies are being so wretchedly performed. Against all this mass of disappointments in every field, here is a masterpiece—the latest issue of the Fackell Oh, if only you like it half as much as I do!" (August 4, 1909); "The new Fackel is marvellous again, and very long, nearly a hundred pages" (July 12, 1914); "Another bright spot today: the new issue of the Fackel" (February 18,1920); "I have to go into town . . . to buy the new Fackel. The whole issue is called 'About Grammar.' What a feast for me!" (June 20, 1921); " W e n t . . . to buy the Fackel. Terrific issue, 184 pages!" (April 7, 1923); ". . . Please bring with you . . . the last issue of the Fackel. . . . That's also good reading for you on the train. It contains the wonderful 'Poems of a Fool'" (June 17, 1928); etc. It was through Kraus that Pandora's Box, still banned in Germany, was brought to the stage for the first time, on May 29,1905. Berg was in the audience, and he referred to the occasion in his testimonial to Kraus in honor of the latter's sixtieth birthday on April 28,1934, a date that coincides almost exactly with his completion of the composition of Lulu (cf. p. 38, above). Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern saw Kraus as one whose work in the domain of language par82 Cerha 79, p. 34.

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alleled theirs in the domain of music. Kraus was Schoenberg's model for his own literary efforts, and in an inscribed presentation copy of the Harmonielehre Schoenberg admits his indebtedness: "I have learned more from you, perhaps, than a man should learn, if he wants to remain independent." Kraus saw his life's work as the defense of language, and thus the defense of humanity, against those whom he regarded as the destroyers of language, the vulgarizers and opportunists of contemporary politics, commerce, and culture. What that defense entailed for him is described in Chapter II, "The Absolute Value of Language," of Iggers's book on Kraus: There were few individuals of whom Kraus felt that they knew German and were worthy of speaking it. Germans from the Reich, with their showy, irreverent, shop assistant's way of using fashionable words certainly were not worthy. Kraus said frequently that the closer one got to the German language, the further one got from the Germans. . . . The German people had become dupes of depraved words, namely of propaganda, the rule of the Nazis in Germany being, in a sense, the fulfilment of Kraus's prophesies concerning language. Having thus been deprived of thought, the Germans had, according to him, fallen below the level of animals, who could at least express themselves adequately through sound and the wagging of tails. Kraus maintained that Austrian German was even worse than that of the Germans proper. In the case of the Austrians he objected above all to their cultivation of a leisurely dialect, to vague words and phrases . . . and in general to the Austrians' willingness to be "cute" and quaint in their language in order to attract tourist traffic. . . . Public utterances had, according to Kraus, become almost completely platitude-ridden, and language had hardened into prescribed channels of thinking. . . . He pointed out how through constant use figures of speech had lost color and meaning, and how impoverished the German language had become. Again and again he chastized the Viennese "educated" public. . . . Kraus criticized the language of the Viennese Jews most bitterly of all. Actually, except for part of the un-assimilated group in the Leopoldstadt which spoke Yiddish, the Viennese Jews spoke German, ranging from the best spoken in Vienna and perhaps anywhere, through German mixed with typically Yiddish expressions, down to German barely distinguishable from Yiddish. Each of these stages had a sentence rhythm, melody and accompanying gesticulation of its own, parallel to the vocabulary. During Kraus's lifetime, however, the vast majority of Viennese Jews who were relatively well-educated spoke a German which was hardly distinguishable from that of the Viennese Gentiles. It can be said without exaggeration that to Kraus nothing was more repulsive than the least trace of Jewish linguistic usage in a German sentence even if the sentence were grammatically and syntactically correct. Along with others, Kraus called that manner of speaking "mauscheln" or, when in a good humor, merely "jiideln." . . ,83 The Banker's "Gott der Gerechte" that Berg inserted into Ensemble II is a satirical touch worthy of Kraus. Though he joins the other characters in exulting over everyone's winnings at the gaming table, as one of the "chosen people" the Banker has a unique way of giving expression to this.

p. 59.

83 Iggers 67, pp. 31ff. For the origin and implications of the word mauscheln see Katz 84, C,

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However one may w i s h to explain or to justify the passages in Lulu that identify the Banker as a Jew, Stein f o u n d his o w n solution to the problem: " G o t t der Gerechte" w a s excised from the portion of his vocal score that came to be engraved; and in a libretto of the third act derived from the Particeli but s h o w i n g some dependence as well on the completed segment of the full score and o n Berg's o w n working typescript of the libretto, "Saujud" w a s changed to "August" ("Clown"), and "mauscheln," "judeln," and the Journalist's parting shot (also found in Wedekind), " D a s hat man von d e m Pack!" ("That's w h a t y o u get from the pack!" [i.e., the Jews]), were all deleted from the text. The reception accorded the Lulu Suite at its world première in Berlin on November 30, 1934, w a s described as follows b y Herbert L. Peyser in the New York Times the following day: B E R L I N , NOV. 30. The world première of the music from "Lulu," the new opera by the Viennese modernist Alban Berg, based on Wedekind's plays "Erdgeist" and "Pandora's Box," evoked a demonstration of riotous enthusiasm at the Stadtsoper tonight seldom equaled in the annals of musical modernism. The success was scored despite the opposition of some high sources of Nazi authority and of threats of disorders that made necessary the presence in the Stadtsoper of large forces of secret police. For nearly fifteen minutes a huge audience numbering many members of the diplomatic corps, which listened with straining intensity, cheered, stamped and applauded, recalling to the platform time and again Erich Kleiber, who prepared and conducted the stirring performance, the orchestra of the State Opera, and the Viennese light soprano Lili Claus. Fràulein Claus had learned a cruelly difficult soprano solo within a few days to replace the singer originally cast for the part, who was prevented from appearing in the hope of sabotaging the performance. Tonight's frank production of new music by the composer of the sensational "Wozzeck" revealed the strength of the popular desire for work that ranks in the Nazi ideology as subversive and Bolshevistic. . . .

Arnold Schoenberg, as a Jew, could no longer be represented b y his o w n music in Germany, but the extraordinary reception of the Lulu Suite w a s a demonstration in support of Schoenberg as well as B e r g — a statement of recognition for his teacher that Berg had declared to be his aim in dedicating the w o r k to him "as a documentation of m y innermost conviction, as a document for all to see." W h a t the Germans called "Entartete [degenerate] M u s i k " w a s not a Jewish product only; it might also be composed b y a fully certified " A r y a n " composer and conducted by a fully certified " A r y a n " conductor. Had the composer and the conductor not acceded to the statutory requirement that they prove their " A r y a n " descent 84 the concert could not have taken place, the National Socialists w o u l d have been spared some inconvenience and embarrassment, and this last opportunity for an intense if oblique expression, without serious risk, of opposition to the regime w o u l d have been denied. Those w h o are ready, from a safe distance, to pass judgment on the composer and the conductor for acceding to such requirements should take this into consideration. 84 Russell 57, p. 143.

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On February 24, 1979, the complete Lulu was heard for the first time. It was heard, not seen. What was seen on the stage of the Paris Opéra was a vulgar and contemptible travesty that converted the music of all three acts, in relation to what was transpiring on the stage, into some sort of general background music at best and an utter irrelevancy much of the time, just as the necessarily makeshift third act that we had had to put up with when Mrs. Berg's ban was still in effect had done only to the few fragments of the third-act music taken from the Lulu Suite. We have already quoted Schoenberg's characterization of "producers who look at a work only in order to see how to make it into something quite different" (p. 267, above). And what does Pierre Boulez, who had the honor to conduct Chéreau's Lulu, have to say about the rights of stage producers? To outraged critics of Chéreau's farcical revision of Wedekind and Berg he retorted: "When Berg borrowed from Wedekind, he didn't consider respect for the text an overriding virtue. He took what suited him and made it fit his own musical structure. There is, therefore, a disrespect which is stronger than respect." 85 But if the responsibilities and prerogatives of the producer are to be equated with those that an opera composer assumes when he revises the text of a play in order to transform it into something that he can set to music, ought not the producer to go much further than Chéreau in taking only "what suits him" from the composer? Shouldn't he do what Berg did with Wedekind's text—take whatever suits him in Berg's music and rewrite and adapt it as he deems necessary in order to make it fit his own dramatic structure, exactly as Castilblaze had done with Weber's Freischiitz and Lachnith with Mozart's Magic Flute? If the London garret in the final scene is to be replaced by a public lavatory in the London Underground because he wants "to avoid the picturesque clichés of turn-of-the-century bohemia," 86 shouldn't he also eliminate the organ-grinder's music in that scene, and the tremolo figure in the lower strings that describes the beating of the rain on the roof? Shouldn't the responsibilities and prerogatives of the producer rather be equated with those of the musical director and conductor, with those that M. Boulez himself assumes as an interpreter of the work, instead of being equated with those of the composer? How, precisely, does the substitution of a dwarf for the Professor, the Medical Specialist's double in the final scene, show "a disrespect which is stronger than respect"? What are we now to make of the return, in the final scene, to the music associated with the Medical Specialist in the opening scene? Will the intrusion of a crowd of on-stage spectators in the scene between Dr. Schôn and Lulu at the conclusion of Act I still fit Berg's "own musical structure," the strict sonata form for the sake of which he "took what suited him" from Wedekind? Operatic production today is everywhere based on the assumption that composers—inept, naïve, and indifferent to the dramaturgical aspects of the operatic theater—compose music in a vacuum which it is the producer's responsibility to fill. There is no end to the grotesqueries and idiocies that this notion— whose sponsorship by a musician like Boulez is particularly damaging and dis85 Reported from Le Monde in the Manchester Guardian, April 29,1979. 86 Ibid.

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graceful—has given rise to, and there is little to be gained in cataloguing further those that concern us here, except to the extent that some of these are not arbitrary, but consistent, rather, with a point of view—not Berg's point of view, but still a point of view, one that seems to be shared by a number of producers and driven home with especially obsessive insistence in one of Götz Friedrich's several productions of the opera, the three-act Lulu that was given its London première on February 1 6 , 1 9 8 1 : [I]t is not merely his insensitivity to the music, or the irrelevance of his staging, or his indifference to the productive components that the composer has mapped into the opera—and not even all of these together—that is ultimately the gravest sin of Friedrich's Lulu. It is the concept that governs his production. For it does have a concept, and that concept is precisely the opposite of the one that governs Berg's opera. The whole point of Friedrich's Lulu is that human eroticism is ridiculous, ugly, and murderous, and there is no limit to the ways in which he will falsify Berg's text in order to make that point. Jack the Ripper does not assault Lulu's portrait and, with her encouragement, violently and repeatedly slash it with his knife. The picture remains hanging where it has been throughout the scene (there is nothing to hang it on in Friedrich's staging, so it must lie on the floor), and the Countess remains in mute adoration before it throughout the dialogue between Jack and Lulu, a dialogue in which there is nothing whatever that can be made to correspond to the action invented by the producer. Jack and Lulu do not dance a slow waltz in a close embrace during the Countess's subsequent soliloquy. The Countess is alone during her soliloquy, for Lulu has drawn Jack into the adjoining room, to the same sublime music that we heard upon her return from prison, and we will not see her again. The towering figure of Jack is not silhouetted against the sky as the final curtain falls. We are alone with Geschwitz in the closing bars of the opera, and with her undying love for Lulu, a love, utterly unrequited to the end, for which she has sacrificed everything, and ultimately even her life. "I am near you, will be near you, in eternity," are her last words, and these words are not followed by a curse, "Verflucht!", as they are in Friedrich's version. The two textless notes which mark the Countess's death are her "Todesseufzer," her death-sigh, as Cerha calls it.87 There is no "Verflucht!", neither in Berg's score, nor in his libretto.88 In spite of the totally innovative and original character that one might expect of every new production, given the producer's usurpation of the role of co-creator, with the author and composer, in place of his proper role alongside the musical director, as co-interpreter, we already have the beginning of a performance tradition. Friedrich's staging, for example, is not without its context and sources, which are to be found neither in Berg nor in Wedekind but in earlier travesties of the opera by other producers. The figure of Jack silhouetted against the sky at the close derives from Chéreau, to whom we are also indebted for the addition of a final "Verflucht!" to Berg's libretto.89 The opera's Prologue invites us into a menagerie, but in Berg's opera we discover not a menagerie behind the curtain, but a painter's studio, a room in his home, a dressing room at the theater, the luxurious 87 Cerha 79, pp. 8, 9. 88 Perle 81b, T, pp. 5f. 89 Both Friedrich's Lulu and Chéreau's are as much mutilations of Wedekind's drama as of Berg's opera. The fact that the revision happens in this one and only instance to conform to Wedekind's text in departing so totally from the dramatic and musical implications of Berg's adaptation of the drama is not mitigatory.

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living room of Dr. Schòn, a gambling casino, a garret. Friedrich, however, like the Hamburg Opera's Gunther Rennert, will not risk the possibility that anyone in the audience might fail to grasp Wedekind's metaphor. As in the famous Hamburg production, at the rise of every curtain we see the menagerie, everything visually homogenized by a cage that not only eliminates the striking contrasts demanded by Berg and Wedekind but that is also a disaster in terms of the purely practical requirements of the work. Since everything is enacted within a cage that has its own separate approaches on the stage itself, every character must come in and walk off twice for every one of his appearances. The consequent lack of correlation with the entrances and exits composed into the work itself is typical of almost every production the opera has had, in both its two- and its three-act version, in its demonstration of indifference to Berg's explicit stage directions, which is equivalent to indifference to, or incomprehension of, Berg's music. 90 Though the rights and duties of the producer must be equated with those of the conductor, as co-interpreter of the work, rather than with those of the composer, the relative area of choice left to the producer, even should he meticulously observe every one of the composer's stage directions, is very much larger than that which is left to the conductor. We can be reasonably certain that a conductor is not going to insert passages that he himself has composed into a work, but the producer must at every moment ask for stage action that is not specifically prescribed by the composer. The responsibility is a grave one, and there are pitfalls everywhere. Consider the moment of Dr. Schòn's death. Aiwa opens the door of the bedroom, the Countess walks out, Dr. Schòn stares at her. "The Devil," he whispers, and dies. What does the Countess do? Does she simply stand there, before the open door of the bedroom, to the end of the scene? Neither Wedekind's nor Berg's stage directions tell us. This problem is sometimes solved by having the Countess walk forward to Lulu's portrait and stand there, gazing intently at it. Whatever the merits of this bit of stage business, it very much weakens the effectiveness of one of the most pervasive Leitmotive in the opera. Throughout the opera there are references in the stage directions and the dialogue to the portrait, and in every instance these are associated with music based on the Picture Chords. But if we are going to call attention repeatedly to the portrait where the composer has not asked us to do so and does not refer musically to it, the leitmotivic function of this music is eliminated. Even where no musical problem is involved, one must carefully consider the larger implications of every bit of stage business that is not specifically mentioned in the libretto. In I/2, for example, no impediment should be placed in the way of our acceptance of Dr. Schòn's identification of Schigolch as Lulu's father, as it is when the expressions of physical intimacy between Schigolch and Lulu go beyond what is explicitly called for in this scene in both the play and the libretto. We, the audience, must be just as surprised as the Acrobat is to learn, in the canonic "ensemble of perplexity" of Act 90 The three-act Lulu in its American première at Santa Fe on July 28, 1979, directed by Colin Graham, and in its first production at the Metropolitan Opera on December 12,1980, directed by John Dexter, are among the few notable exceptions.

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II, Scene 1 , that Schigolch is not Lulu's father. Above all, Lulu must never be made to seem common. She is always "that ray of divine light." 91 We must always see her through the eyes of those who desire her. One of the most original aspects of Berg's musical language, and at the same time one of the most difficult to realize in performance, is the simultaneous exactitude and plasticity of the tempi. The frequent changes are governed by precise proportional relations, yet within each tempo there is a continuing fluctuation of pace, a strictly controlled rubato expressly demanded by the composer and enormously important in articulating the formal subdivisions and shaping the formal design. This ideal balance between precision and elasticity in the unfolding of tempo relations and in the pacing within each tempo has been rarely and only at occasional moments achieved in the performance of Lulu. It will become easier to approximate as time goes on. Our first and most important obligation to Berg's artistic legacy is achieved— the rescue, for ourselves and for posterity, of his chef d'oeuvre and of one of the supreme masterpieces of its genre in the entire repertory, through its restoration, in every most essential respect, to the composer's own conception. That restoration was dependent first of all on the safekeeping of the source materials themselves through the hazards of a most destructive and barbarous tyranny and a long and terrible war. The debt we owe the publisher for this must be acknowledged before we can bring this chapter to a close. In retrospect it is also clear that we owe them every consideration in judging the tactics and maneuvers they employed in coping with the unprecedented hindrances that his widow placed in the way of a more timely fulfillment of their obligations to the composer. Three of Berg's works, the Altenberg Lieder, Lulu, and the Violin Concerto, came to performance only after the composer's death. 92 The problems that an editor ordinarily faces in preparing a posthumous publication are compounded here by uncorrected errors in the original score, errors that may range from simple notational mistakes to miscalculated dynamic markings and occasional instrumental and even compositional misjudgments. Every composer routinely discovers such errors at the first rehearsals of a new work and routinely corrects them. In the case of Lulu we were deprived even of the composer's own overview and proofreading of his completed manuscript, which routinely precedes the extraction of parts. The foregoing pages have given some hint of the editorial deficiencies affecting the interrelation of musical and dramatic elements that still await correction, ranging from such small details as the displacement by one note of Lulu's gesture in II/i, m. 14 (see Ex. 189) to the failure to overlay the Film Music with the film scenario as shown in the Particell. The numerous notational errors may be categorized as follows: (1) errors in the vocal score that may be corrected by reference to the published orchestral score; (2) errors in the published orchestral score that may be corrected by reference to the manuscript of the score; (3) 91 The Marquis Casti-Piani, in Death and the Devil: " . . . That ray of divine light that penetrates the dreadful midnight of our martyr's existence." (See pp. 34 and 69f., above.) 92 We are not counting the aborted first performance of two of the Altenberg Lieder in 1913, which led Berg to suppress the work for the remainder of his life.

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evident errors in the manuscript of the score that may be corrected by reference to the Particell; (4) self-evident routine notational errors in the composer's own manuscripts, such as may easily occur in the course of recopying corresponding passages at the same or another pitch level; (5) evident errors that may be corrected by reference to the compositional context in other ways (for example, doublings, or set structure). Each of these categories imposes a different kind of responsibility on whoever may some day undertake the most urgent task of preparing a new and corrected edition of the Lulu scores. 93 A n understanding of Berg's life and character poses some of the same problems as his music. They, too, have their hidden metaphors and esoteric programs, ironically masked by plausible surface metaphors and exoteric programs. When he seems to be most open, he is also most secretive. Writing to his wife during his military service, he compares himself to Wozzeck: "I have been spending these war years just as dependent on people I hate, have been in chains, sick, captive, resigned, in fact, humiliated." It must also have occurred to him that, like Wozzeck, he too had fathered an illegitimate child by a girl named Marie. He sends Schoenberg an elaborate array of notes, an abstract representation of the most remarkable and continuing significance in its implications for his musical language throughout his creative life, and accompanies this with a few dismissive words: "Dear Friend, I came upon the above oddity by chance. A theoretical trifle." Writing to his wife, he claims that he "hasn't much feeling" for Countess Geschwitz, and in the same paragraph he mentions finding the "right notes" for her closing words (with their secret reference to his undying love for another woman). In a letter to Hanna Fuchs-Robettin, Berg wrote: "Everything that you may hear of me, and perhaps even read about me, pertains, insofar as it is not completely false, . . . to what is only peripheral." After his death his widow wrote to Alma Mahler: "He didn't want too close an association with this woman, as he imagined her in the unheard-of florescence of his artist's fantasy, for fear of disappointment. . . . It all comes to a flight from reality." Which of these "programs" was the "real" one? New York December 24,1982 93 I have attempted to correct these various types of notational errors in my examples. Compare Example 75. In the third chord the published full score and the reduction both show e in place of t h e / g i v e n in the example. The note required by the series i s / a n d there seems to be no reason for the substitution of e in the return to Chord Z on the upbeat to m. 485. The e, however, is confirmed in Berg's own fair copy of the score. The Particell shows a carelessly written note that may be read as either e o r / . I prefer to be guided by the compositional context in this instance and to assume that the intended note is f. Such a misreading could easily have occurred in the course of scoring from the Particell, and would probably have been discovered and corrected by the composer in the course of proofreading or rehearsal—a responsibility that now falls upon the editor.

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BIBLIOGRAPHY

The list that follows is almost entirely restricted to writings to which reference is made in the present volume. In the footnote references magazine articles are indicated by author, the year of issue, and an abbreviated title of the journal; books are indicated by author and the year of publication.

Adorno, Theodor W. 1936. (Hektor Rottweiler, pseud.) "Erinnerung an den Lebenden," 23: Eine Wiener Musikzeitschrift, 24/25 (February): îçff. . 1968. Alban Berg. Vienna: Elisabeth Lafite. Antokoletz, Elliott. 1977. "Principles of Pitch Organization in Bartók's Fourth String Quartet," In Theory Only, III/6 (September): 3ff. . 1981. "The Musical Language of Bartók's 14 Bagatelles for Piano," Tempo, 137 (June): 8ff. . 1984. The Music of Béla Bartók. Berkeley: University of California Press. Babbitt, Milton. 1950. Review of Leibowitz, Schoenberg et son école. In Journal of the American Musicological Society, III/i (Spring): 56ff.

. 1955. "Some Aspects of TwelveTone Composition," The Score and I.M.A. Magazine, 1 2 (June): 53ff. Barrett, William. 1982. The Truants. Garden City, New York: Anchor Press/Doubleday. Bartosch, Alex Hans. 1979. "Durfte der dritte Akt von 'Lulu' ergänzt werden?" Österreichische Musikzeitschrift XXXIV/3 (March): 142ft. Berg, Alban. 1927. "A Word about 'Wozzeck,'" Modern Music, V/i (November/ December): 22ff. — — — . 1929. "Die Stimme in der Oper," Gesang: Jahrbuch der U.E. Vienna: Universal Edition. Reprinted in Reich 37, pp. 164L . 1965. Briefe an seine Frau. Munich: Langen-Müller Verlag. . 1971a. Letters to His Wife. Trans. Bernard Grun. New York: St. Martin's Press. . 1971b. "Berg's Notes for the Lyric Suite," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 2 (January): 5ff. Berg, Erich Alban. 1980. "Bergiana," Schweizerische Musikzeitung, CXX/3 (May/ June): 147ft. Berger, Arthur. 1963. "Problems of Pitch —

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Organization in Stravinsky," Perspectives of New Music, II/i (Fall/Winter): u f f . Bouquet, Fritz. 1948. "Alban Bergs 'Lyrische Suite': Eine Studie über Gestalt, Klang und Ausdruck," Melos, XV (August/September): 227ÌÌ. Carner, Mosco. 1975. Alban Berg. London: Duck worth. Cerha, Friedrich. 1979. Arbeitsbericht zur Herstellung des 3. Akts der Oper LULU von Alban Berg. Vienna: Universal Edition. . 1981. "Zum III. Akt der Oper 'Lulu,' " Österreichische Musikzeitschrift, XXXVI/io-11 (October/November): 541«. De Voto, Mark. 1966. "Some Notes on the Unknown Altenberg Lieder," Perspectives of New Music, V/x (Fall/Win ter): 37ft. Field, Frank. 1967. The Last Days of Mankind. London, Melbourne, Toronto: Macmillan. Frank, Joseph. (1945) 1958. "Spatial Form in Modern Literature." Reprinted in Criticism: The Foundations of Literary Judgment, ed. Mark Schorer et al. New York, Chicago, Burlingame: Harcourt, Brace and World. Geiringer, Karl. 1965. "Es ist genug, so nimm Herr meinen Geist: 300 Years in the History of a Protestant Funeral Song." In The Commonwealth of Music, ed. Gustave Reese and Rose Brandel. New York: The Free Press. Gerigk, Herbert (see Stengel, Theo). Gittleman, Sol. 1969. Frank Wedekind. New York: Twayne Publishers. Green, Douglass M. 1977a. "Berg's De Profundis: The Finale of the Lyric Suite," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 5 (June): i3ff. . 1977b. "The Allegro misterioso of Berg's Lyric Suite: Iso- and Retrorhythms," Journal of the American Musicological Society, XXX/3 (Fall): 507ff. . 1981. "Cantus Firmus Techniques in the Concertos and Operas of Alban Berg." In Alban Berg Studien, ed. Rudolf Klein. Vienna: Universal Edition. Harris, Donald. 1981. "Berg and Miss Frida—Further Recollections of His Friendship with an American College Girl." In Alban Berg Studien, ed. Rudolf Klein. Vienna: Universal Edition.

Hauer, Josef Mathias. 1925. VomMeloszur Pauke. Vienna: Universal Edition. . 1926. Zwölftontechnik: die Lehre von den Tropen. Vienna: Universal Edition. Heller, Erich. 1959. The Disinherited Mind. Cleveland: World Publishing Company. Herschkowitz, Filip. 1978. "Some Thoughts on Lulu." International Alban Berg Society Newsletter 7 (Fall): 1 1 . Hilmar, Rosemary. 1980. Die Werke von Alban Berg: Handschriftenkatalog. Vienna: Universal Edition. Holloway, Robin. 1979. "The Complete Lulu," Tempo, 1929 (June): 36ff. Iggers, Wilma Abeles. 1967. Karl Kraus: A Viennese Critic of the Twentieth Century. The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff. Jacobs, Arthur (trans.). 1978. Alban Berg: Lulu (English/German libretto). Vienna: Universal Edition. Jarman, Douglas. 1970a. "Dr. Schön's FiveStrophe Aria: Some Notes on Tonality and Pitch Association in Berg's Lulu," Perspectives of New Music, VIII/2 (Spring/ Summer): 23ft. . 1970b. "Some Rhythmic and Metric Techniques in Alban Berg's Lulu," Musical Quarterly, LVI/3 (July): 349ft. . 1978. "Lulu: The Sketches," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 6 (June): 4 ff. . 1979. The Music of Alban Berg. Berkeley: University of California Press. . 1980/1981. "Countess Geschwitz's Series: A Controversy Resolved?" Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association, 107: m f f . . 1981a. "Some Observations on Rhythm, Metre and Tempo in Lulu." In Alban Berg Studien, ed. Rudolf Klein. Vienna: Universal Edition. . 1981b. "Lulu: The Musical and Dramatic Structure," Royal Opera House Covent Garden program notes. . 1982a. "Alban Berg, Wilhelm Fliess and the Secret Programme of the Violin Concerto," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 1 2 (Fall/Winter): 5ff. . 1982b. "The 'Lost' Score of the 'Symphonic Pieces from Lulu,'" International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 1 2 (Fall/Winter): i 4 f f . Jones, Ernest. 1953. The Life and WorkofSig-

Bibliography mund Freud. Volume 1. New York: Basic Books. Katz, Jacob. 1984. "German Culture and the Jews," Commentary, LXXVII/2 (February): 54ff. Keller, Hans. 1953. "Lulu" (a review of the Holland Festival), Music Review, XIV/4 (November): 302ff. Klein, Fritz Heinrich. 1925. "Die Grenze der Halbtonwelt/' Die Musik, XVII/4 (January): 28iff. Klein, Rudolf (editor). 1981. Alban Berg Studien. Vienna: Universal Edition. Knaus, Herwig. 1970. "Die Kärntner Volkweise aus Alban Bergs Violinkonzert," Musikerziehung, XXIII/3: nyf. . 1976. "Berg's Carinthian Folk Tune." (Trans, of the preceding by Mosco Carner), Musical Times, CXVII [No. 1600] (June): 487. . 1981. "Kompositionstechnik und Semantik in Alban Bergs Konzertarie Der Wein." In Alban Berg Studien, ed. Rudolf Klein. Vienna: Universal Edition. Krasner, Louis. 1978 [1982]. Untitled (an account of the Vienna première of Berg's Violin Concerto), Boston Symphony Orchestra program notes, 98th season, no. 6. Reprinted in International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 1 2 (Fall/Winter): 3f. Kraus, Karl. 1958. Literatur und Lüge. Munich: Kösel-Verlag. Krenek, Ernst. 1966. Exploring Music. London: Calder and Boyers. Kutscher, Artur. 1964. Wedekind. Munich: List Verlag. Lansky, Paul (with George Perle). 1980. "Set" and "Twelve-Note Composition." In The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians. London: Macmillan. Lewin, David. 1962. "A Theory of Segmental Association in Twelve-Tone Music," Perspectives of New Music, I/i (Fall): 89ft. Mitchell, Donald. 1954. "The Character of Lulu," Music Review, XV/4 (November): 268 ff. Offergeld, Robert. 1964. "Some Questions about Lulu," HiFi/Stereo Review, XIII/4 (October): 58ff. Pabst, G. W. 1971. Pandora's Box (Lulu). Translation of the film script, by Christopher Holme. New York: Simon and Schuster.

Perle, George. 1952. "Schoenberg's Late Style," Music Review, XIII/4 (November): 274ff. . 1959. "The Music of Lulu: A New Analysis," Journal of the American Musicological Society, XII/2-3 (Summer/Fall): i8 5 ff. . 1962. Serial Composition and Atonality. Berkeley: University of California Press. . 1964a. "A Note on Act III of Lulu," Perspectives of New Music, II/2 (Spring/ Summer): 8ff. . 1964b. "Lulu: The Formal Design," Journal of the American Musicological Society, XVII/2 (Summer): i79ff. . 1964c. "The Character of Lulu: A Sequel," Music Review, XXV/4 (November): 3 i i f f . . 1965. "Lulu: Thematic Material and Pitch Organization," Music Review, XXVI (November): 269^ . 1967a [1977]. The String Quartets of Béla Bartók. New York: Dover. (A pamphlet accompanying a recording of the six quartets.) Reprinted in A Musical Offering: Essays in Honor of Martin Bernstein, ed. Edward H. Clinkscale and Claire Brook. New York: Pendragon. . 1967b. "Current Chronicle: Edinburgh," Musical Quarterly, LIII/i (January): ìoiff. . 1967c. "Erwiderung auf Willi Reichs Aufsatz 'Drei Notizblätter zu Alban Bergs Lulu,' " Schweizerische Musikzeitung, CVII/3 (May/June): 163ft. . i9Ö 7 d. "Die Personen in Bergs 'Lulu,' " Archiv für Musikwissenschaft, XXIV/4 (November): 283«. . 1968. Serial Composition and Atonality. 3rd ed., revised. Berkeley: University of California Press. . 1977a. Twelve-Tone Tonality. Berkeley: University of California Press. . 1977b. "Berg's Master Array of the Interval Cycles," Musical Quarterly, LXIII/i (January): iff. . 1977c. "The Secret Program of the Lyric Suite," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 5 (June): 4ft. . i977d. "The Secret Program of the Lyric Suite," Musical Times, CXVIII [Nos.

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1 6 1 4 - 1 6 ] (August, September, October): 629ft., 709ft., 809ft. . 1978a. "Das Geheime Programm der Lyrischen Suite," Österreichische Musikzeitschrift, XXXIII/2-3 (February, March): 64ff„ 113ft. . 1978b. "Mein geliebtes Almschi," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 7 (Fall): 5 ff. . 1979a. "The Complete ' L u l u , ' " Musical Times, CXX [No. 1632] (January): 115ft. . 1979b. "The Cerha Edition," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 8 (Summer): 5ff. . 1980a (with Paul Lansky). " S e t " and "Twelve-Note Composition." In The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians. London: Macmillan. . 1980b. "Mein geliebtes Almschi," Österreichische Musikzeitschrift, XXXV/i (January): 2ff. . 1981a. Serial Composition and Atonality. 5th ed. Berkeley: University of California Press. . 1981b. "Friedrich's 'Lulu/ " Tempo 1 3 7 (June): 2ff. . 1982. "The 'Sketched-In' Vocal Quartet of Lulu, Act III," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 1 2 (Fall/Winter): 12f. Pernye, A. 1967. "Alban Berg und die Zahlen," Studia Musicologica, IX: 141ft. Ploebsch, Gerd. 1968. Alban Bergs "Wozzeck." Strasbourg and Baden-Baden: Heitz. Redlich, H. F. 1955, i960. "Appendix" to 2 Lieder by Alban Berg. Vienna: Universal Edition. . 1957a. Alban Berg: Versuch einer Würdigung. Vienna: Universal Edition. . 1957b. Alban Berg: The Man and His Music. London: John Calder. . 1963. "Unveröffentliche Briefe Alban Bergs an Arnold Schönberg." In Festschrift Friedrich Blume. Kassel: Bärenreiter. — . 1967. "Alban Berg und die Österreichischen Landschaft." In Festschrift des Steirischen Tonkünstlerverbundes. Graz: Akademischer Druck- und Verlagsamstatt.

Reich, Willi. 1936. "Alban Berg's Lulu," Musical Quarterly, XXII/4 (October): 383ft. . 1937. Alban Berg. Mit Bergs eigenen Schriften und Beiträgen von Theodor Wiesengrund Adorno und Ernst Krenek. Vienna, Leipzig, Zurich: Herbert Reichner Verlag. • 1953• "Aus unbekannten Briefen von Alban Berg an Anton Webern," Schweizerische Musikzeitung, XCIII/2 (February): 49ff. . 1959. Alban Berg: Bildnis im Wort. Zurich: "Die Arche." . i960. " A n der Seite von Alban Berg," Melos, XXVII/2 (February): 36ft. . 1963. Alban Berg. Zurich: Atlantis Verlag. — - — . 1965. Alban Berg, trans. Cornelius Cardew. London: Thames and Hudson. . 1966. "Drei Notizblätter zu Alban Bergs Oper Lulu." Schweizerische Musikzeitung, CVI/i (November/December): 336ffReiter, Manfred. 1973. Die Zwölftontechnik in Alban Bergs Oper LULU. Regensburg: Gustav Bosse Verlag. Rottweiler, Hektor (see Adorno, Theodor W.). Rufer, Josef. 1954. Composition with Twelve Notes, trans. Humphrey Searle. N e w York: Macmillan. Russell, John. 1957. Erich Kleiber. London: Andre Deutsch. Scherliess, Volker. 1976. "Briefe Alban Bergs aus der Entstehungszeit der Lulu," Melos/Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, II/2 (March/April): io8ff. . 1977. "Alban Bergs analytische Tafeln zur Lulu-Reihe," Musikforschung, XXX/4 (October/November): 452ft. Schlee, Alfred. 1946. "Vienna since the Anschluss," Modern Music, XXIII/2 (Spring): 95ft. Schoenberg, Arnold. 1965. Letters, selected and ed. Erwin Stein. N e w York: St. Martin's Press. . 1975. Style and Idea: Selected Writings of Arnold Schoenberg, ed. Leonard Stein. N e w York: St. Martin's Press. Seehaus, Günter. 1964. Frank Wedekind und das Theater. Munich: Laokoon-Verlag GMBH.

Bibliography Semler, Frida Seabury. 1968. "1903 and 1904," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 1 (December): 3ft. Simon, Eric. 1981. "A Chance Discovery," International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 10 (Summer): xi. Smith Brindle, Reginald. 1957. "The Symbolism in Berg's 'Lyric Suite,' " The Score and I.M.A. Magazine, 21 (October): 6off. Sokel, Walter H. 1966. "The Changing Role of Eros in Wedekind's Drama," The German Quarterly, XXXIX/i (January): 20iff. Stadien, Peter. 1981. "Berg's Cryptography." In Alban Berg Studien, ed. Rudolf Klein. Vienna: Universal Edition. Stein, Erwin. 1927. "Preface" to Lyrische Suite by Alban Berg. Vienna: Universal Edition. Stengel, Theo, and Herbert Gerigk. 1940. Lexikon der Juden in der Musik. Berlin: Bernhard Hahnefeld Verlag. Stuckenschmidt, H. H. 1977. Arnold Schoenberg, trans. Humphrey Searle. London: John Calder. Szmolyan, Walter. 1977a. "Helene Bergs Vermächtnis," Österreichische Musikzeit-

schrift, XXXII/4 (April): 169ft. . 1977b. "Zum III. Akt von Alban Bergs 'Lulu,' " Österreichische Musikzeitschrift, XXXII/9 (September): 396ft. Treitler, Leo. 1959. "Harmonie Procedure in the Fourth Quartet of Béla Bartók," Journal of Music Theory, III/2 (November): 292ft. Van den Toorn, Pieter C. 1983. The Music of Igor Stravinsky. New Haven and London: Yale University Press. Webern, Anton. 1963. The Path to the New Music, trans. Leo Black. Bryn Mawr, Pa.: Theodore Presser. Wedekind, Frank. 1952. Five Tragedies of Sex, trans. Frances Fawcett and Stephen Spender. London: Vision. . 1967. The Lulu Plays, trans. Carl Richard Mueller. New York: Fawcett. . 1969. Werke in drei Bänden. Band 3. Berlin: Aufbau Verlag. Wedekind, Tilly. 1969. Lulu—die Rolle meines Lebens. Munich: Rütten und Loening. Zweig, Stefan. 1943. The World of Yesterday. Viking. (Reprinted in paperback by University of Nebraska Press, 1964.)

301

GENERAL INDEX

Adorno, Theodor W., 1 2 , 1 7 , 1 8 , 84, 261, 265, 275, 285, 287, 297 Ahle, Johann Rudolf, 246 Alban Berg Stiftung, 260, 262-264, 270, 28of., 285 Allgemeine Deutsche Musikverein, 238 American Musicological Society, 273 Angriff, 241 Anti-Semitism, 283-284, 285-290 Antokoletz, Elliott, 199, 297 Apostel, Hans Erich, 231 Archibald, Bruce, 251 Arrays, 165t., 194, 295, Plate 10. See also Interval cycles; Twelve-tone system Babbitt, Milton, 10,157, 200, 203t., 297 Bach, Johann Sebastian: Art of the Fugue, 269; chorale melody, 243, 255, 256 Barrett, William, 297 Bartók, Béla, 199, 206; String Quartet No. 2,198; String Quartet No. 4, 88,198, 200 Bartosch, Alex Hans, 297 Baudelaire, Charles, 18, 21, 22-23, 2 9 Bauhaus, 287 Before Sunrise (Hauptmann), 35 Berg, Alban correspondence: to Helene Berg, 1, 2, 24, 27, 39, 40, 238, 239t., 253, 295; to

Hanna Fuchs-Robettin, ix, 19, 25f., 28,139, 239, 257, 295; to Heinsheimer, 287; to Herlinger, 257t.; to Kalmus, Plate 11; to Kleiber, 237t.; to Kolisch, 12, 21; to Kraus, 38; to prospective father-in-law, 39; to Reich, 253, 262; to Schoenberg, 3, 7, 29, 40, 41, 60, 67,165, 237, 239, 253, 286, 295, Plate 10; to Frida Semler, 33; to Webern, 7 , 1 0 , 24, 237, 239, 240, 263, 269 life: birthplace, Plate 23; illegitimate daughter, 256t., Plates 21 and 22; marriage to Helene Nahowski, 25; attendance at performance of Pandora's Box, 38, Plate 5; consideration of Und Pippa tanzt as opera, 40L; beginning work on Lulu, 40t.; success of Wozzeck, lyj; composition of Lulu, 237f., 239, 240, 287; sale of Wozzeck manuscript, 239; completion of Lulu, 240; composition of Violin Concerto, 238, 243; première of Lulu Suite, 24of.; financial difficulties, 261, 262; final illness, 253t., 261; death, 254; deathmask, Plate 24; posthumous ban by Nazis on works, 257t.; attitude toward Kraus, 288f.; character, 239f., 283, 286-290, 295; country

303

General Index 304

Berg, Alban: life (continued) homes—Berghof, 39, 238, —Waldhaus, 238, 257, 261, Plate 17; family circle, 39f.; portraits, Frontispiece, Plates 1 and 27; relations with Helene Berg, 25-29, 239f., 260L, 28if.; relations with Hanna Fuchs-Robettin, 1 8 - 2 9 , 1 3 9 , 257, 295; relations with Schoenberg, 2, 286; Vienna apartment, Plate 27 literary works, 297^; lecture on Wozzeck, 233, 237; "Die Stimme in der Oper," 29; "A Word about Wozzeck," 68f. style: anticipation of twelve-tone system, 1 , 5-6; arrays, 165L; harmony, 86, 182; orchestration, 2 1 , 29; treatment of voice in ensemble, 20-21, 29; twelve-tone technique, distinguished from Schoenberg and Webern, 2f., 6, 9 , 1 0 , 1 1 , 1 4 t . , 29-31, 85-87, 94, i29f., 1 3 3 , 1 6 1 , 1 6 4 , 1 8 1 , 1 8 3 , 1 9 1 , 200-206, 235-236 works: Altenberg Lieder Op. 4 , 1 , 9 , 1 6 5 , 182, 207, 236, 294; Chamber Concerto, 1 - 7 , 1 4 9 , 207; Four Songs Op. 2 , 1 6 1 , 1 6 5 , 1 9 8 , 207; Lulu symphony, projected, 243; Schliesse mir die Augen beide, second setting, 7-10, 24t.; String Quartet Op. 3 , 1 6 5 ; Three Excerpts from Wozzeck, 26; Three Pieces for Orchestra Op. 6 , 1 , 9, 207, 236; Der Wein, 21, 29-32, 41, 139, 206, 248, 257. For Lulu, Lulu Suite, Lyric Suite, Violin Concerto, and Wozzeck, see separate entries Berg, Charley (brother), 282, 283 Berg, Erich Alban (nephew), 285, 297 Berg, Helene correspondence: to Alma Mahler, 28, 253, 26of., 262, 28if., 295, Plates 18 and 19; to Redlich, 264, 275 life: portraits, Frontispiece, Plates 2 and 25; relations with Alban Berg, 24f., 26-28, 239f., 26of., 268f.; initial insistence on Act III publication, 282f.; misrepresentation of whereabouts of Lyric Suite manuscript, 27; ban on Act III of Lulu, 256, 262-276 passim, 285, 294; death, 260, 263; last will and testament, 26, 257, 262, 265, 269, 28of., 285 mentioned, 1 , 2, 39,40, 238, 295 Berg, Smaragda (sister), 39f. Berger, Arthur, 199, 297t.

Berlin State Opera, 24of. Bodleian Library, Oxford, 272 Böhm, Karl, 276 Boulez, Pierre, 291 Bouquet, Fritz, 17, 298 Brecht, Berthold: Die Dreigroschenoper, 37 Brosche, Dr. Günter, ix Büchner, Georg, 35, 41; Danton's Death, 35; Woyzeck, 35 Busoni, Ferruccio, Dr. Faustus, 269 Cardillac (Hoffmann), 24 Carner, Mosco, 17, 25, 269, 298 Castilblaze, François Henri Joseph, 291 Cerha, Friedrich, ix, 149, 228f., 230, 233^, 270, 274, 275-280, 287, 298, Plate 16 Chereau, Patrice, 291, 292 City University of New York (Queens College), x Combinatoriality. See under Twelve-tone system Dallapiccola, Luigi, 295 Debussy, Claude: Pelléas et Mélisande, 68 DeVoto, Mark, 165, 207, 298 Dexter, John, 293 Don Giovanni: relation to Lulu, 34, 57 Einem, Gottfried von, 263 Eliot, T. S., 198 Erskine, John, 40 Expressionism, 57-59 Die Fackel, 40, 288 Field, Frank, 298 Fliess, Wilhelm, 255 Frank, Joseph, 198, 298 Franz Josef, Emperor, 39 Freed, Ronald, ix Freud, Sigmund, 27, 34, 255 Friedrich, Götz, 292, 293 Fuchs-Robettin, Hanna, ix, i8f., 24, 25-29 passim, 1 3 9 , 1 5 6 L , 239, 240, 255, 257, 261, 286, 295, Plates 4 and 1 2 Fuchs-Robettin family, 26 Furtwängler, Wilhelm, 240 Geiringer, Karl, 246, 298 George, Stefan, 18, 21 Gerigk, Herbert, 301 Gittleman, Sol, 34, 35, 37L, 58, 298 Graham, Colin, 293 Green, Douglass M., 1 7 - 1 8 , 1 9 , 2 1 , 23,149, 209, 249, 298, Plate 3

General Index Gropius, Manon, 243, 256, Plates 1 8 , 1 9 , and 20 Gretor, Willi, 36 Gurlitt, Manfred, 4 1 Hamburg Opera, 267, 268, 293 Harewood, Lady, 275 Harris, Donald, 298 Hauer, Josef Mathias, 10, 204, 298 Hauptmann, Gerhart, 35, 40 Hauptrhythmus, 207. See also under specific works Heller, Erich, 40, 298 Herlinger, Ruzena, 29, 257 Herschkowitz, Filip, 298 Hertzka, Emil, 24 Hilmar, Dr. Rosemary, ix, 1 5 1 , 298 Hitler, Adolf, 238, 257, 258, 287 Hoffmann, E. T. A., 24 Hofmannsthal, Hugo von, 288 Holloway, Robin, 149, 298 Homosexuality, 39f., 268 Iggers, Wilma Abeles, 289, 298 International Alban Berg Society, 275 International Alban Berg Society Newsletter, 23 Interval cycles, n f . , 9 4 , 1 0 7 , i i 2 f . , 124, i4of., i 4 3 f . , 1 6 1 - 1 6 7 , 1 7 1 - 1 8 9 , 1 9 4 , 198-200, 248f., 252, Plate 10 Invariance. See Twelve-tone system Jacobs, Arthur, 6 1 , 298 Jarman, Douglas, 6 , 1 7 , 1 8 , 30, 59, 63, 69, 81,121,131t., i35f„ 140,142,147,149, 1 5 8 , 1 6 7 , 1 7 1 , 1 9 6 , 202, 207, 2 1 2 , 2 1 7 , 223f., 228, 230, 234t., 242, 249, 2 5 1 , 255, 278, 298 Jones, Ernest, 298L Kafka, Franz, 84 Kalmus, Dr. Alfred A., 266, 2 7 1 , 276, Plate 11 Kandinsky, Aleksei, 287 Katz, Jacob, 299 Keller, Hans, 275, 299 Kierkegaard, Sören, 34 Kleiber, Erich, 40, 237^, 24of., 253, 290 Klein, Fritz Heinrich, 7, 299 Klein, Rudolf, 299 Klemperer, Otto, 258 Knaus, Herwig, 256, 299 Kolisch, Rudolf, 1 2 , 243 Krasner, Louis, 243, 254, 258, 299, Plate 25

Kraus, Karl, 38f., 40, 60, 287, 288-289, 2 9 9 ' Piate 5 Krenek, Ernst, 268, 299 Kutscher, Artur, 36, 47, 299 Lachnith, Ludwig Wenzel, 291 Lafite, Prof. Elisabeth, ix Langen, Albert, 37 Lansky, Paul, 299 The Last Days of Mankind (Kraus), 40 Leibowitz, René, 1 7 , 285 Leitmotive and Leitsektionen, ìzf. See also under Lulu; under Wozzeck Lewin, David, 200, 299 Library of Congress, Washington, D.C., 272 Liszt, Franz, 206 Lulu. For arrays, interval cycles, metaphors and symbols, octatonic scale, palindrome, quotation, twelve-tone system, whole-tone collections, wholetone scale, see individual listings Curtain music, 87, 91 dramatis personae, 58-67, 266f., 278^; multiple roles, 60-65, 78/ 2 6 6 Lulu, 3 4 , 4 0 , 1 3 8 L , 148L, 1 5 1 , 1 9 4 , 1 9 5 L , 197, 2 1 4 L , 240, 268, 287, 293L; multiple names for, 5 7 , 1 0 6 ; relation to Dr. Schòn, 79; relation to Don Giovanni, 34, 57; as represented by sets and Basic Cells, 87, 93, i09ff., 200; timbrai representations, 234 Countess Geschwitz, 26, 64, 76, 99, 1 2 5 , 1 2 7 , 1 8 7 , 1 9 4 L , 197, 200, 2 1 8 2 2 1 , 293; love for Lulu, 39L, 190, 240, 268, 292 Wardrobe Mistress, 64 Schoolboy, 6 4 , 1 1 2 Groom, 64 Medical Specialist, 6 4 , 1 0 5 , 1 1 2 , i86f., 216, 279 Banker, 6 4 , 1 1 2 , 279, 283L, 287-290 Professor, 60, 64, 279 Painter, 60, 64, io6f. Negro, 60, 64 Dr. Schòn, 37, 64, 79, 95L, 1 2 7 - 1 2 9 , i 3 8 f . , 1 5 9 , 1 7 9 , 1 9 0 , 1 9 6 , 200; death, ìoof., 106, 293 Jack the Ripper, 38, 6 4 , 1 2 7 - 1 2 9 , 1 3 8 , 1 4 6 , 1 9 7 , 292 Aiwa, 24, 36, 59, 62, 64, 95f., 1 3 8 L , 146,190

3°5

General Index

306

Lulu: dramatis personae (continued) Schigolch, 57f., 64, 66, i02ff., 194, 293L Animal Tamer, 62, 64,146 Acrobat, 61, 62, 6 4 , 1 0 1 , 1 1 5 , 1 5 1 , 293 Prince, 65 Manservant,65 Marquis, 34, 6 5 , 1 1 4 Stage Manager, 64, 65, 279 Clown, 64, 65, 290 Stagehand, 65 Police Commissioner, 65 Fifteen-year-old Girl, 65t. Her Mother, 65t. Designer, 64, 65 Journalist, 65, 287f. Servant, 65 form. See also Lulu, Index of Numbers: 32, 68-84, 22if., 233; curtain music, 8 7 , 1 2 5 , 221; example of "number opera," 7 1 , 84; film. See under Lulu, Index of Numbers, No. 32; Rondo of Act II, 70; Sonata Movement of Act I, 70; Theme and Variations of Act

III, 70

Leitmotive, 1 2 7 - 1 3 1 Acrobat's Chords, 1 , i o i f . , i i 5 f . , i2of., 160,170, i83f., 192, 201 Alwa's Series, 95-98,102, i2of., 122, 138, i42f., i58f., 173, i92f., 203f. "Auf einmal springt er auf," 130, 234 Circus, 1 1 9 , 1 4 6 , 1 6 3 Countess Geschwitz's Trope, 99-101, 1 2 0 , 1 4 7 , i58f., i7of., 172^, 1 8 1 185,187-189, i9of., 2i8f., 222 Dr. Schön's Series, 9 5 - 1 0 1 , 1 1 9 - 1 2 1 , 125-127,129,132-134,138, i58f„ 167-179,192, 201-205 Irrsinn, 127-129, 220, 221, 223 "Jetzt kommt die Hinrichtung" (fate), 130,168, i73f., 196, 225, 233f. Lulu's Portrait (Picture Chords), 93, i09f., 187^, 219, 293 Lulu's Series, 9 3 , 9 5 , 1 1 0 - 1 1 2 , 1 2 4 ^ , 129,135,137,164,182,194 Marquis's Series, i i 4 f . , 148,160 Medical Specialist/Banker's Series, 1 1 2 , i86f., i88f. Painter's Chords, 106-109, Schigolch's Serial Trope, 1 0 2 - 1 0 6 , 1 1 6 , 121-124,135/142,160,161,179, 194, 205

Schoolboy's Series, 1 1 2 - 1 1 4 , i2of., 135' 137/147' 160,178 Signal Motive, 9 1 - 9 3 , 1 3 1 , 1 6 4 , 1 7 1 , i85f., i89f. "the tiger's leap," 129, 203 Leitsektionen, 6 9 , 7 8 - 8 4 , 1 3 1 - 1 4 9 ; lists of, 7 7 f . , 82-84 Barrel Organ Music, 81, i4of., 24if., 270 Circus Music, 1 1 9 , 1 2 5 , i36f., 143-146, 1 6 3 , 1 6 5 , 1 9 2 - 1 9 4 , 207 Closing Theme of the Sonata, 79-81, 9 3 , 1 3 1 - 1 3 4 , 210, 222, 224f. Film Music. See under Lulu, Index of Numbers, No. 32 Lulu's Entrance Music, ôgf., 79, 81, 1 1 4 , 1 3 5 - 1 3 9 , 215, 241 Ragtime, i05f. libretto, 41, 57-67, 266-268, 270-272, 277f., 283L, 285-290, 292, Plates 12 and 13; allusions to Berg, 24, 59; Berg's revisions of Wedekind plays, 1 5 1 , 215, 266, 270-272, 287f.; synopsis, 42-57 manuscripts and editions, 269-272, 275, 276-278, Plate 9; controversy over Act III completion, 262-295; errors in the published materials, 62f., 72, 105,150,164,168,170,173,181,182, 294L; Particell of Act III, 63, i5of., 155, 228-231, 236, 238, 263, 266, 269-272, 276L, 287, 290, 294f., Plate 8 orchestration, 233-236, 277; treatment of voice in ensemble, 21 productions: première of two-act version, 266, 281, 282, 285, Plate 14; productions of two-act version, 264, 267, 274, 276; première of three-act version, Paris Opéra, 280, 291, 292; productions of three-act version, 291-294 tempo and rhythm, 16, 207-233, 294; fate rhythm (Hauptrhythmus), 1 5 5 , 1 7 0 , 207-218, 220, 222, 229, 235; Countess's Hauptrhythmus, 218-223; metrical modulation, 224-232; retrograde, 208f. twelve-tone organization, 5, 8 5 - 8 7 , 1 5 7 , 275. See also Leitmotive, above Basic Cells and derived tropes, 86, 87-

General Index 93, 205; Basic Cell I, 8 7 - 8 9 , 1 1 0 , 1 1 6 , i2of., 1 2 5 , 1 3 6 , 1 4 4 , 1 5 5 , 1 6 9 , 172L, 1 8 5 , 1 8 7 , 1 9 4 - 1 9 7 , i99f., 208; Basic Cell II, 9 9 , 1 0 1 , i i 9 f . , 125,136,144,146,169-172,1771 8 1 , 2 2 i f . ; Basic Cell III, 8 9 , 1 3 6 , 144; Basic Cell IV, 9 1 , 1 6 4 , i85f., i88f.; Trope I, 8 9 , 1 2 5 - 1 2 7 ; Trope Ia, 195-197; Trope II, 89; Trope III, 89f., 1 5 8 , 1 9 6 ; melodic cells, 1 1 7 121 Basic Series, 86, 93-95, 96, 9 7 , 1 0 2 , 106,107,116-120,122,133,137, i4if., 144,157-161,167,179, 201203, 205 chord series: principal, 109t., i47f.; incidental, 1 2 l f . harmony, 10, 94f., i n f . , i i 5 f . , 1 6 2 1 6 4 , 1 7 0 , 1 9 4 , 236 tonality, 9 3 , 9 9 , 1 3 1 - 1 4 4 , i63f., 1 8 9 197, 207 tone center, 9 3 , 1 3 1 f t . , 1 7 1 two-act version, 266-268, 274, 280 mentioned, 24, 28, 29, 38 Lulu, Index of Numbers, 7 1 - 7 7 No. 1 . Prologue, 42, 69, 7 1 , 78, 82,83, 84, 87, 90, 9 1 , 1 0 3 , 1 0 7 , l i o f . , 1 1 4 , 1 1 9 , 129,135-137,139,143-146,192,197/ 201-205, 207, 2 1 5 Act I/i, No. 2. Recitative, 42, 7 1 , 1 0 5 , 2 1 7 , 235 I/i, No. 3. Introduction, Canon, and Coda, 42, 7 1 , 82, 2 i 7 f . , 235 I/i, No. 4. Melodrama, 42, 7 1 , 2i6f., 235 I/i, No. 5. Canzonetta, 42, 7 1 , 82, 83 I/i, No. 6. Recitative, 42, 7 1 , 8 3 , 1 0 7 , 216 I/i, No. 7. Duet, 42f., 7 1 , 8 3 I/i, No. 8. Arioso, 43, 7 1 , 216 Act I, Interlude, No. 9, 7 1 , 8if. Act I/2, No. 10. Duettino, 43, 7 1 , 8 1 , 82, 83, 87 I/2, No. 1 1 . Chamber Music I, 43, 69, 7 1 , 81, 83 I/2, No. 12. Sonata: Exposition, 43f., 70, 72, 79, 82, 8 3 , 1 0 7 , 1 7 1 I/2, No. 1 3 . Monoritmica, 44, 72, 83, 97f., 209-215, 2 1 7 , 224 Act I, Interlude, No. 14, 72, 79, 80, 82, 84, 9 3 , 1 3 1 - 1 3 4 , 242

Act I/3, No. 15. Ragtime, 44f., 72, 8 2 , 1 0 5 I/3, No. 16. Andante, 45, 72, 8 1 , 82, 105 I/3, No. 17. English Waltz, 45, 72, 82, 83* 149 I/3, No. 18. Recitative, 45, 72, i86f., 217 I/3, No. 19. Chorale, 45, 72, 78, 82, 8 8 , 1 0 5 , 1 1 4 , 1 3 2 , i47f. I/3, No. 20. Introduction and Sextet, 45, 72, 82, 86,106 I/3, No. 2 1 . Sonata: Development, 45f., 70, 72, 226f. I/3, No. 2 1 . Sonata: Recapitulation, 46, 70, 72, 79f., 82 Act II/i, No. 22. Recitative, 46, 72, i82f. II/i, No. 23. Arietta, 46, 69, 72, 83, 99f., 1 2 7 L , 1 7 0 , 1 9 2 , 223, 227f. II/i, No. 24. Cavatina, 46, 72, 80, 8 1 , 82, 83, 88 II/i, No. 25. Ensemble, 46f., 70, 72, 82,102 II/i, No. 26. Rondo: Exposition, 47, 72f., 8 1 , 82, 8 3 , 1 0 5 , 1 0 6 , 1 9 2 , 241 II/i, No. 27. Chorale Theme, 47, 72f., 78, 8 2 , 1 1 4 , 1 4 8 , 1 7 3 II/i, No. 28. Tumultuoso, 47,48, 72f., íoof., 1 0 6 , 1 5 9 , 1 7 2 , i78f., 23lf. II/i, No. 29. Introduction and Aria, 47f., 7 2 f „ 8 0 , 1 2 9 , 1 6 7 - 1 7 9 II/i, No. 30. Lied der Lulu, 48, 72f., 8 1 , 8 3 , 1 0 7 - 1 0 9 , i48f., 1 7 5 - 1 7 7 , 241 II/i, No. 3 1 . Arietta, 48, 69, 72f., 8 1 , 83, 84, 9 0 , 1 4 9 , 1 9 2 , Plate 1 1 Act II, Interlude, No. 32. Ostinato (Film Music), 6, i6f., 48f., 59, 7 1 , 73f., 86, 87, 90, 91, 9 3 , 1 2 0 , 1 2 5 , 1 4 9 157' 1 9 5 - 1 9 7 ' 209, 232, 241, 242Í., Plates 7 and 8 Act II/2, No. 33. Recitative, 49, 7 4 , 1 0 1 II/2, No. 34. Largo, 49, 74, 8 2 , 1 4 7 II/2, No. 35. Chamber Music II, 50, 69, 74, 82 II/2, No. 36. Melodrama, 50, 74, 82 II/2, No. 37. Rondo: Middle Division, 50, 74, 8 2 , 1 3 9 , 241 II/2, No. 38. Rondo: Recapitulation, 50, 74, 82, 8 3 , 1 3 9 , 1 9 3 , 241

307

General Index 308

Lulu, Index of Numbers (continued) II/2, No. 39. Musette, 50, 74, 82, 241 II/2, No. 40. Hymn, 50, 74, 83, 241 Act III/i, No. 41. Introduction and Ensemble I, 51, 74f., 78, 82, 83, 193L, 223, 280 III/i, No. 42. Melodrama, 51, 75 III/i, No. 43. Duet I, Concertante Chorale Variations, 51, 75, 78, 81, 82, 83, 90,115, i48f., 280 III/i, No. 44. Ensemble II, 51, 75, 78, 83,194, 278 III/i, No. 45. Duet II, 5 i f „ 75, 280 III/i, No. 46. Pantomime, 52, 75 III/i, No. 47. Duet III, 52, 69, 75, 81, 83 III/i, No. 48. Cadenza for solo violin and piano, 69, 75 III/i, No. 49. Scena, 52, 75f., xoi III/i, No. 50. Ensemble III, 52f., 76, 78, 83, 223, 278 III/x. No. 51. Melodrama, 53, 76 III/i, No. 52. Recitative, 53, 70, 76, 81, 83,179-180 Act III, Interlude, No. 53. Four Variations, 76, 81, 83, 87,140-143, 223f., 241 Act III/2, No. 54A. Scena I, Melodrama, Part 1: Theme (Barrel Organ Music), 53, 76, 81, 83, 270, 277 III/2, No. 54B. Scena I, Melodrama, Part 2, 53, 76 III/2, No. 54C. Scena I, Lulu and the Professor, 1st entrance, 53, 76, 83 III/2, No. 55A, Scena I, Melodrama, Part 1: Theme (Barrel Organ Music), 53f., 76, 83, 270, 277 III/2, No. 55B. Scena I, Melodrama, Part 2, 54, 76, 83 III/2, No. 55C. Scena I, Lulu and the Professor, 2nd entrance, 54, 76, 83 III/2, No. 56. Transition, 54, 7 6 , 1 8 5 187 III/2, No. 57. Quartet, 54, 76, 83,110, 185, 270-272, Plate 13 III/2, No. 58A. Scena III, Variation II, 54/ 76/ 83 III/2, No. 58B. Scena III, Melodrama, 54f., 76, 83 III/2, No. 58C. Scena III, Lulu and the Negro, 55, 76, 81, 83

III/2, No. 59A. Scena IV and Finale, Variation III, 55, 76, 83, i87f. III/2, No. 59B. Scena IV and Finale, Transition, 55, 77, i87f. III/2, No. 59C. Scena IV and Finale, Sostenuto, 55, 77,110,127, 187^, 219, 221, 242 III/2, No. 59D. Scena IV and Finale, Lulu and Jack: Adagio, Part 1, 55f., 77, 80, 83 III/2, No. 59E. Scena IV and Finale, Adagio, Part 2, 56, 70, 77, 80, 84/139 III/2, No. 59F. Scena IV and Finale, Notturno, 56L, 77,189, i94f., 196L III/2, No. 59G. Scena IV and Finale, Largo, 57, 77,125-127, 242 III/2, No. 59H. Scena IV and Finale, Grave, 57, 77,101, 242 Lulu Suite, 62,150, 232, 240-243, 269, 270, 282 première, 240, 253, 290 subsequent performances, 257L, 262 Lyric Suite, ix, 10-24, 31, 243, Plate 1 manuscript, 27, 261 première, 12 secret program, 17-24, 27-29, 59, 254, 255/ 257/ 281, Plate 3 tempo and rhythm, i2f., 15-17, 21, 209, 217 twelve-tone procedures: 10-12,13-15, 86,157, 251, 252 Mahler, Alma. See Werfel, Alma Mahler Mahler, Gustav: Symphony No. 10, 269 Mallarmé, Stéphane, 198 Metaphors and symbols, 7 , 1 3 , 1 4 , 1 5 , i8f., 26, 81, 85, 92, 95, 97f„ 110,114,125,139, 15Óf., 165, 174, l 8 l , 202, 203, 212, 222f., 240, 254L, 257, 295, Plate 12 Metronome markings. See under specific works,Tempo and rhythm Metropolitan Opera, 267, 293, Plate 15 Mitchell, Donald, 79, 274, 299 Monteverdi, Claudio, 68 Morgan Library, New York, 272 Motives, rhythmic. See Hauptrhythmus; and under specific works Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus: Magic Flute, 291; Requiem, 269 Die Musik, 24

General Index Nahowski, Frank (brother of Helene), 28 Nahowski, Franz (father of Helene), 39 Nahowski, Helene. See Berg, Helene Naturalism, 35t., 38, 57 Nazis, 238, 241, 257, 258, 261, 283, 290 Neo-classicism, 259 Number opera, 69, 71 Numerology. See Metaphors and symbols Octatonic scale, 1 1 0 , i75f., 199, 200 Offergeld, Robert, 299 Österreichische Musikzeitschrift, ix Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, ix, 17, 27, 269, 270, 278, Plate 3 Pabst, G. W„ 299 Palindrome, 6 , 1 6 , 8 7 , 1 5 0 , 1 5 2 , 209, 214, 22lf. Paris Opéra, 280 Perle, George, 18, 27, 63,198,265-267, 270, 272-275,276t., 278t., 281, 299t. Pernye, A., 254, 300 Peyser, Herbert L., 290 Pitt, David, ix Ploebsch, Gerd, 274, 300 Plotkin, Cary, 1 5 1 Polnauer, Josef, 2 Pound, Ezra, 198 Prager Tageblatt, 241 The Private Life of Helen ofTroy (Erskine), 40 Program music, 1 2 , 1 7 - 2 4 , 254^ Proust, Marcel, 84 Puccini, Giacomo: Turandot, 269 Quotation, Berg's use of musical, 1 3 , 1 4 , 1 7 , 1 8 , 59, 255, 256 Redlich, H. F., 1 7 , 1 9 , 27, 29, 207, 264-269 passim, 275, 276, 300 Reflexive reference, poetry, 198 Reich, Willi, 28, 3 1 , 1 5 0 , 1 5 7 - 1 6 0 , 239, 253, 262-264, 2 68, 274, 300 Reinhardt, Max, 38, 39, 254 Reiter, Manfred, 157, 300 Rennert, Gunther, 293 Rhythmic motives. See Hauptrhythmus; and under specific works Robetin, Dorothea, ix, 25 Roslavetz, Nicolai, 259 Rosé, Arnold, 258 Rottweiler, Hektor, 300 Rufer, Josef, 300 Russell, John, 24of., 300

Sadie, Stanley, ix Scherchen, Hermann, 254 Scherliess, Volker, 157, 300 Scheuchl, Albine, 256f., Plates 21 and 22 Scheuchl, Marie, 256t., 295 Schlee, Dr. Alfred, 273, 279, 285, 300 Schoenberg, Arnold correspondence: to Helene Berg, 282; to Kandinsky, 287; to Kraus, 288f.; to Stein, 283f.; to Webern, 267 life: discrimination against as a Jew, 238t., 259, 286f.; requested to complete Lulu, 235t.; refusal to complete Lulu, 262, 264, 268, 272, 281, 282-288; views about producers, 267, 291 literary works: Harmonielehre, 289 style: formulation and use of twelve-tone system, 1 - 5 , 9 , 1 0 , 29t., 3 1 , 85t., 94, 129t., 1 6 1 , 1 8 1 , 1 9 1 , 200, 203-206 works: Chamber Symphony No. 1 Op. 9, 70; Five Pieces for Orchestra Op. 16, 279; Serenade Op. 2 4 , 1 , 2; String Quartet No. 1 Op. 7, 70; Suite for Piano Op. 2 5 , 1 , 4f.; Three Pieces for Piano Op. 1 1 No. 1 , 1 6 4 , 1 9 8 ; Violin Concerto Op. 36, 200, 205; Von Heute auf Morgen Op. 32,29 mentioned, 7, 40, 41, 60, 67,165, 237, 253, Plate 10 Seehaus, Günter, 300 Semler, Frida Seabury, 33, 39, 283, 300 Serial procedures. See Twelve-tone system Simon, Eric, 300t. Simplizissimus, 37 Smith, Prof. Joan, ix Smith Brindle, Reginald, 301 Social realism, 259 Sokel, Walter H., 34, 301 Source set. See under Twelve-tone system Sprechtstimme, 76 Stadien, Peter, 301 Stalin, Joseph, 258 Stein, Erwin, 17, 62, 231, 235^, 263-266, 268, 272-276 passim, 283-287 passim, 290, 301 Stengel, Theo, 301 Stokowski, Leopold, 237,239 Storm, Theodor, 7, 24 Stravinsky, Igor, 199, 206, 275; A Rake's Progress, 84; Le Sacre du Printemps, 165, 279 Strindberg, August, 33

309

General Index 310

Stuckenschmidt, Hans Heinz, 282, 301 Symbolism. See Metaphors and symbols Szmolyan, Walter, 301 Tempo and rhythm. See under specific works Text underlay, 17-25 Theater of the Absurd, 38 Treitler, Leo, 200, 301 Trope. See under Twelve-tone system Twelve-tone system. See also Arrays; Interval cycles; and under specific composers and works aggregate, 1 , 1 5 , 200f., 203, 205, 206 all-interval series, 7 auxiliary series, 1 1 axis of symmetry, 3 , 1 8 7 , 1 9 4 , 206 basic cells, 3 , 1 3 - 1 5 , 87, 88,199^ combinatoriality, 95, 203-205, 206 cyclic permutation, 7 , 1 0 , 1 1 , 3of., 98, 1 1 3 , i58f., 1 6 7 , 1 7 5 , 201, 249, 251, 253 diatonic elements, incorporation of, 29f., i n f . , 248 interval numbers, 199 invariance, 2, 4f., 7 , 1 1 , 1 1 5 - 1 1 7 , 1 6 1 , 200-203, 2 ° 6 , 249L, 251 inversional complementation, 166-189, 205f. inversional equivalence, 205f. inversional symmetry, 181-185, 251 ordered set, 1 order numbers, 97 P/I dyads, 9,167-189, 205f. pitch-class numbers, i65f., 167^, 199 Schoenberg's formulation, 1 - 5 , 1 0 , 29f., 3 1 , 8 5 f. secondary set, 7 segmentation, 4, 9 source set, 1 0 , 1 4 - 1 5 , 1 5 7 - 1 6 1 , 204 sum of complementation. See inversional complementation, above symmetrical series, 7 , 1 4 3 , 1 7 0 , 252f. thematic series, 1 , 5 transformation, 2, 4 transposition numbers, 4, 99 trope, 10, 8 5 , 1 2 5 - 1 2 7 , 1 3 5 , 204f., 249, 2 5 2f. trope, serial, 1 0 2 , 1 6 0 vertical set, 3 Und Pippa tanzt (Hauptmann), 40 Universal Edition, ix, 24, 27, 262-266, 268,

270, 272-274, 275, 276f., 279, 282, 283, 285, 294, Plate 1 1 Van den Toorn, Pieter C., 199, 301 Varèse, Edgard, 206 Venice Biennale, 285 Vienna Philharmonic, 258 Violin Concerto, 29, 32, 206, 238, 243-258 Carinthian folksong, 244, 247, 255-257 chorale, 243, 245^, 2 5 i f „ 254-257 errors in the published score, 245 form, 243-247 première, 254, 260, Plate 25; Vienna première, 294 program, 243, 254 secret program, 254-257, 258 tempo and rhythm, 243, 245, 255 twelve-tone procedures, 86, 247-253 Wagner, Richard, 9 5 , 1 3 1 , 206, 255; Tristan und Isolde, 1 4 , 1 7 , 2 1 , 28, 69, 71, 99, 198, 256 Weber, Carl Maria von: Der Freischutz, 291 Webern, Anton von life: relation to Schoenberg, 2; decision not to complete Lulu, 262, 264, 268, 272, 281, 284^; respect for Kraus, 288 style: use of twelve-tone system, 8 6 , 1 8 1 , 205, 206 works: Five Movements for String Quartet Op. 5, 88,198; Six Bagatelles for String Quartet Op. 9, 86; String Trio Op. 2 0 , 1 ; Symphony Op. 2 1 , 88, 252 mentioned, 7 , 1 0 , 24, 237, 239, 240, 263, 267, 269 Wedekind, Frank life, 33-38; "Lautenlied," 7 5 , 1 4 0 - 1 4 2 , 256, 270; portrait, Plate 6; rejection of Naturalism, 57-59 literary works: The Awakening of Spring, 33f., 36, 38; Death and the Devil, 34, 38, 69, 294; Earth Spirit, 34, 36-39 passim, 41, 59, 79; Earth Spirit, synopsis, 42-48; Elins Erweckung, 58; Lulu, 34, 266, 268, 271, 283; The Marquis of Keith, 36, 37; Mine-Haha, 37; Pandora's Box, 34, 36, 38, 39, 41, 59, 6 0 , 1 5 1 , 288, 291-293, Plate 5; Pandora's Box, synopsis, 49-57; Such Is Life (King Nicolo), 37; The Tenor, 37 mentioned, 29, 241

General Index Wedekind, Tilly, 38, 41, 301 Werfel, Alma Mahler, 25, 27, 28, 40, 243, 253, 26of., 262, 281, 295, Plates 18 and 19 Werfel, Franz, 18, 25, 26, 254 Whole-tone collections, i i 2 f . , i24f., 1 6 1 164 Whole-tone scale, 199, 245 Wiener Kurier, 280 The World of Yesterday (Zweig), 33 Wozzeck, 1 , 3, 9, 32, 233, 236 character related to Berg, 295 form, 68-70 harmony, 1 4 , 1 6 2 , 1 8 2 , 1 9 4 , 1 9 8 , 1 9 9 interval cycles, 165,166 Leitmotive and Leitsektionen, 1 2 , 1 3 , 1 3 1 première, 25, 26, 241

productions, 41, 237, 238, 259 quoted in Lulu, 59 tempo and rhythm, 1 5 , 1 6 , 207, 208, 2 1 2 214, 223, 226f. use of quotation, 256 Yale University, Jackson Library, 272 Zemlinsky, Alexander, 255, 256, 262, 264, 268, 272, 281, 284f.; Lyric Symphony, 1 3 , 1 7 , 1 8 , 27 Zemlinsky, Louise, 27L Ziegler, Henry, x Ziegler, Patti, x Zola, Emile, 35 Zurich, Stadttheater, 266, 281, 282, 285, Plate 14 Zweig, Stefan, 33, 301

311

I N D E X OF E X A M P L E S

Schoenberg 1 - 2 . Suite, Op. 25, tone row: 4, 5 163. Piano Piece, Op. 1 1 , No. 1 : 1 6 4 , 1 9 8 208. Violin Concerto, Op. 36, tone row: 200-201, 203, 205

EXAMPLES:

Berg, Lulu 28. Basic Cells I, II, III: 87, 88, 93 29-30. Basic Cell I: 88-89 3 1 . Trope 1:89, 93,195, 208 32. Trope II: 89, 93 33. Trope III: 89-90, 93 34. Tropes II and III: 90 35. Trope I: 9 0 - 9 1 , 1 9 5 36. Basic Cell IV: 91, 9 3 , 1 6 4 , 1 8 5 37. Signal Motive: 9 1 , 1 7 1 38. 1/2-3, m m - 9 5 6 - 9 6 0 : 9 3 , 1 3 0 , 1 3 1 , 133,134 39-41. Basic Series, hexachordal structure: 9 3 - 9 4 , 1 4 2 , 1 4 6 , 1 5 7 , 1 5 9 42. Dr. Schon's Series and Alwa's Series: 95-96 43. II/i, mm. 34if.: 95 44. Alwa's Series and Basic Series: 96-97,102,157,192 45. Dr. Schôn's Series and Alwa's Series, respective hexachordal content: 96 46. Dr. Schôn's Series and Alwa's Series, hexachordal invariance: 96,192, 200, 203, 2 1 2

EXAMPLES:

47. Dr. Schon's Series and Alwa's Series, trichordal invariance: 97 48. I/2, mm. 808-811: 97 49-52. Alwa's Series: 97-99 53. Basic Cell II: 9 9 , 1 7 0 , 1 9 0 54. Countess Geschwitz's Trope: 99, 158,170 55. Prologue, mm. 39-41:99-100, 218 56. Countess Geschwitz's Trope, ordered version: 9 9 - 1 0 0 , 1 2 0 , 1 5 9 57. Countess Geschwitz's Trope, combined P and I set forms: 99-100, 170,190 58. Dr. Schon's Series, containment of Basic Cell II: 9 9 , 1 0 1 , 1 7 0 59. II/i, mm. 4of.: 9 9 - 1 0 1 , 1 2 9 , 1 7 9 60. The Acrobat's Chords and Countess Geschwitz's Trope: 1 0 1 , 1 7 0 , 1 8 2 61a. II/2, mm. 722-726:102,182 61b. III/i, mm. 5 3 7 - 5 3 9 : 1 0 2 , 1 8 2 62. II/2, mm. 829-833:102-103 63-64. Schigolch's Serial Trope: 103-106 65a. I/i, mm. 4 7 5 - 4 7 7 : 1 0 3 - 1 0 4 , 1 1 6 , 135,160 65b. III/i, mm. 4iof.: 1 0 3 - 1 0 4 , 1 6 0 66. Schigolch's Serial Trope: 1 0 3 , 1 0 5 67. I/3, mm. 1 0 3 3 - 1 0 3 5 : 1 0 5 68. I/3, mm. ioo5f.: 105-106 69. II/i, mm. 603-607:106 70a. The Painter's dyads: 106-107, 144/157

313

les

EXAMPLES: Berg, Lulu (continued) 70b. The Painter's Chords: 1 0 6 - 1 0 7 , 1 5 7 71. The Painter's Chords, whole-tone partitioning: 107-108,162 72. I/i, mm. 284-289:107-108,162 73a. I/i, mm. 329-334:107-108 73b. I/3, mm. 1 1 0 7 - 1 1 0 9 : 1 0 7 - 1 0 8 73c. II/i, mm. 524f.: 107-108 74. The Painter's Chords: 107,109 75. II/i, mm. 484f.: 109 76. The Picture Chords, derivation: 93, 107,109-110,157 77. II/i, mm. 590-592:110 78. The Picture Chords: 1 1 0 - 1 1 1 79. III/2, mm. 9 1 3 - 9 1 8 : 1 1 0 - 1 1 1 , 219 80. III/2, mm. 1 1 8 0 - 1 1 8 5 : 1 1 0 - 1 1 1 , 1 8 8 81-83. Lulu's Series: 93, 9 5 , 1 1 0 , 1 1 2 , 129,157 84. The Medical Specialist's dyads: 1 1 3 , 157,187,188 85. The Schoolboy's Series: 1 1 2 - 1 1 3 86. II/2, mm. 8 3 6 - 8 4 1 : 1 1 3 , 1 6 2 87. II/2, (m. 841), mm. 843-847: 113-114,162 88. Prologue, mm. 4 9 - 5 2 : 1 1 4 , 1 3 5 89. II/2, mm. 9 2 9 - 9 3 1 : 1 1 4 - 1 1 5 90. The Schoolboy's Series, variant: 114-115 91. The Marquis's Series: 1 1 4 - 1 1 5 , 1 4 8 92. The Acrobat's Series: 1 1 5 - 1 1 6 93. Acrobat's Chords, intersections with other sets: 1 1 5 - 1 1 6 , 1 4 2 , 1 5 7 , 1 5 9 , 170,192 94. Acrobat's Series, intersections with Basic Series: 1 1 6 , 1 2 0 95. II/i, mm. 1 0 0 - 1 0 4 : 1 1 6 - 1 1 7 96. Acrobat's Series, intersections with Schigolch's Serial Trope: 116-117, 97. II/i, mm. 1 3 7 - 1 4 3 : 1 1 6 , 1 1 8 , 1 6 0 98. II/2, mm. 7 5 9 - 7 6 1 : 1 1 6 , 1 1 8 , 1 6 0 99. Intersecting melodic cells: 1 1 9 , 1 6 1 100. Prologue, m. 9 : 1 1 9 , 1 6 3 101. Leitmotiv, "the tiger's leap": 119,129 102. I/2, mm. 938-940:120 103. I/i, m. 86:120 104. II/Interlude, mm. 670-674: 1 2 0 - 1 2 1 , 1 5 5 , 1 9 5 , 208, 209 105. III/2, mm. 752-767:121 106. III/2, mm. 77of.: 1 2 1 - 1 2 2 , 1 3 5 107. III/2, mm. 7 6 8 - 7 7 0 : 1 2 1 - 1 2 2 , 1 3 5 108a. I/i, mm. 8 7 - 9 0 : 1 2 2 , 1 3 5 , 1 6 0 , 217

108b. I/i, m. 9 2 : 1 2 2 , 1 3 5 , 1 6 0 , 217 109. I/2, mm. 9 0 9 - 9 1 1 : 1 2 3 , 1 3 5 , 214 110a. Ill, mm. io8f.: 1 2 3 , 1 3 5 , 217, 234 110b. Ill, mm. 1 1 0 - 1 1 2 : 1 2 3 , 1 3 5 , 234 1 1 1 . Lulu's Series, variant: 1 2 4 , 1 6 4 1 1 2 . I/2, mm. 685-687:124,164 1 1 3 . I/2, mm. 953-956:125,164 1 1 4 . II/i, twelve-tone aggregate at close of curtain: 125 1 1 5 . III/i, mm. 2 3 - 2 7 : 1 2 5 - 1 2 6 116. III/2, mm. 1 2 9 4 - 1 3 0 1 : 1 2 5 - 1 2 6 , 1 2 9 1 1 7 . Twelve-tone trope derived from Dr. Schon's Series: 1 2 7 , 1 2 9 , 220 118. III/2, mm. 1 1 8 5 - 1 1 8 9 : 1 2 7 - 1 2 9 , 1 9 5 119. II/i, mm. 5 3 - 5 7 : 1 2 7 - 1 2 8 , 220, 223 120. Prologue, mm. 2 1 - 2 3 : 1 2 9 1 2 1 . III/2, mm. i305f.: 129-130 122. I/i, derivation of Leitmotiv, "Auf einmal springt er auf": 130 123. Leitmotiv, "Jetzt kommt die Hinrichtung": 1 3 0 - 1 3 1 124. I/2, mm. 533f.: 1 3 2 , 1 7 1 125. I/2, mm. 535f.: 1 3 2 , 1 7 1 126. I/2-3, Interlude, mm. 958-964:130, 133/159 127-129. I/2-3, Interlude, mm. 965-968:133-134 130. I/2-3, Interlude, mm. 977-979:134 1 3 1 . Prologue, mm. 4 8 - 5 4 : 1 3 5 - 1 3 6 132. Prologue, mm. 4 6 - 4 8 : 1 3 5 - 1 3 6 133. Prologue, mm. 4 9 - 5 2 : 1 3 5 - 1 3 6 134. Prologue, mm. 4 4 - 4 6 : 1 3 5 , 1 3 7 - 1 3 8 135. Prologue, mm. 46-56:137 136. Prologue, mm. 60-62:137-139 137-138. Prologue, mm. 56-59:138-139 140. The Procurer's Song: 140 1 4 1 . Ill/Interlude, m. 699, mm. 703-708:141 142. Ill/Interlude, mm. 705-709:141 143. Ill/Interlude, mm. 73of.: 1 4 0 , 1 4 2 144. Ill/Interlude, m. 7 1 5 : 1 4 2 - 1 4 3 145. Ill/Interlude, mm. 720-723: 142-144,162 146-150. Prologue, mm. 9 - 1 5 (16): 144-146,165,170,171,192,194 1 5 1 . III/2, mm. 1307-1309:146, 207 152. Schoolboy's Series and Countess Geschwitz's Trope: 1 4 7 , 1 5 6 153. Chord series of the Chorale: 1 1 5 , 148, 241 154. Derivation of Dr. Schon's Series from the Basic Series: 106,159, 161,179

Index of Examples 155. Derivation of Schigolch's Serial Trope from the Basic Series: 160, 217 156. Derivation of the Schoolboy's Series from the Basic Series: 160 157. Derivation of the Acrobat's Series from the Basic Series: 160-161 158. II/i, m. 101:161 162. III/i, mm. 659-668:162-163, 1