Michael Cooper wrote:

>BTW I find it hardly surprising that you enjoy many pianists'
>Kinderszenen.  The music presents few challenges interpretative or
>technical, and obviously is quite accessible to any listener.  And it
>is hard for a pianist to find an idiosyncratic approach to take to the
>performance; the music is just to simple, charming, and direct, so any
>one pianist tends to play it about the same as the next.

I have at least two dozen recordings of the Kinderszenen in my collection,
and no two are identical.  The professional pianists I've talked to, even
those who are very well known, tell me adamantly that they don't know any
music that, in the final analysis, is easy to play, though it may be
relatively straightforward to execute *mechanically*.  They also tell me
that technique is a widely misunderstood term that it involves much more
than fingering, and which properly includes mastery of balance, affective
inflection, rhythmic tension, motivic characterization, consistency,
dynamic, discerning connections that link one part of the piece to another
across time and distance, etc.  So I suppose that there is more to it than
playing the notes, no matter how few of them you mght see on the page.
What is simple and direct for one person may also be simple and direct for
another, sure, but from a different perspective.  The question, it seems to
me, especially in a piece like Kinderszenen, concerns subtlety and nuance.
My 8 year old could probably play Kinderszenen simply, too, but I doubt
with the kind of subtlety of expressive nuance and technical command, in
its broadest sense, that a pro or a great artist could.

Also, someone sent me not long ago a detailed analysis, by Alban Berg, of
Traumerei.  It's too technical for me to get into, but I think it's pretty
amazing that a composer of Berg's stature would find so much to discuss,
and so much complexity, about what you'd' think is a simple piece.

Here's that analysis, by Alban Berg, of Schumann' s Traumerei.  It's not
so simple and direct, after all, it seems.

   The Musical Impotence of Hans Pfitzner's "New Aesthetic"
   By Alban Berg

   "But with a melody like that one is suspended in mi-air.  One can
   only recognize its quality, not demonstrate it.; there is no agreement
   to be reached about this quality by intellectual means: either one
   understands it by the rapture it arouses, or one does not.  Whoever
   cannot go along with it cannot be converted by any arguments, and
   someone who attacks it except to play the melody and say "how
   beautiful".  What the melody says is as deep and as clear, as mystical
   and as obvious as the Truth".

   It may be a severe disappointment for many musicians-as it is for
   me-to see such words written by a composer of Pfitzner's standing.
   And that in a book bursting with erudition, that hardly leaves a
   single sphere of human knowledge untouched and shows itself as it
   were oriented in philosophy, politics, history of music and race
   theory, aesthetics and morality, journalism and literature, and God
   knows what else.

   But in a field where knowledge would be most imperative, in the
   field of things musical, it is simply denied us, and the writer
   assumes a point of view which precludes from the start any possibility
   of distinguishing good from bad.  And then he continues (in highly
   ungrammatical German): " So I speak the following only to a small
   group, namely those who still have and want to have a sense of the
   quality of a melody-a sense that has been driven out of us with
   strongly increasing success since decades ago."

   But he does not say a single word to this small group-amongst which
   I presume to count myself-which could be of assistance to that "sense"
   or even take account of it.  Instead he issues the equally German
   exhortation (German in sentiment this time rather than in the mode
   of expression):

     "So we who still have this sense, let us courageously enthuse!"

   For my part I would rather leave the enthusing to that large group
   who do not need to have the "sense of the quality of a melody" "driven
   out" of them (because they don"t have it), and reserve for myself
   and the few others who managed to escape (all the enthusing) a
   worthier, and in any case, matter-of-fact relationship to music.
   But it turns out on the other hand that the small group that Pfitzner
   calls on is not so small after all, for he feels able to present
   their musical sense with the following indescribably difficult and
   even problematic case: No. 7 of Schumann's Kinderszenen: Traumerei.
   Not one of the many hundreds of melodies-that are not so generally
   familiar-from classical symphonic music or chamber music that even
   in Schumann's day enjoyed a great and uncontested success, and one
   which since then, as far as I know, has not been subjected to any
   particularly sharp "attack".

   So, the praise that Pfitzner lavishes on the Kinderszenen seems all
   the more unnecessary, and does not testify to any particular "courage":

      "Each of the little pieces in this opus is a musical shape of fine
      charm, poetry and musicality, and above all highly personal in
      character."

   And when he goes on:

      "But could anyone who understands the primeval language of music
      fail to recognize that Traumerei is quite uniquely distinguished
      by the quality of this melody?  That is applicable only in so far
      as this piece is "quite uniquely distinguished" in another way,
      so uniquely that Pfitzner describes it on the very next page as
      "not really belonging in the Kinderszenen".

   But I assert (besides what I have to say later about the quality of
   this melody) that Traumerei is already distinguished by its central
   position as No. 7 of thirteen pieces, and occupies therefore a very
   special position in the symmetrical structure of the whole opus, and
   is a vital component-perhaps the most vital-of the whole.  This can
   be overlooked when as a matter of principle one turns ones back on
   any "agreement by intellectual means".  If one does not do that, and
   allows the "sense for the quality of a melody" (doubtless including
   a sense of its tonAlity) to function for once instead of letting it
   be confiscated by a small group, then it will certainly strike one
   that Traumerei is also distinguished from the point of view of its
   tonality.  It is the first of the Kinderszenen in a flat key and
   shares this property with only the following piece, Am Kamin (which
   is also related to it in other ways).

   But Pfitzner prefers to close his eyes to all that.  Rather he is
   concerned in general, and also in the special case of Traumerei,
   which nothing less than the "primeval language of music" and:

      "For whoever does not understand it, Traumerei is a little piece
      in song-form with the tonic, dominant, sub-dominant, and other
      closely related keys-without deviation from the normal, as far as
      the elements are concerned; no harmonic novelty, no rhythmic
      finesse, the melody rising through the notes of the triad, "for
      piano, two hands".

   Not the layman- who confronts this composition with perplexity-but
   the musically educated (who possesses the faculty of recognizing it
   theoretically) is told once and for all that his education is of no
   use to him if he does not understand the primeval language of music.
   And if he does understand this language his theoretical faculties
   are not all all necessary, since "with a melody like this" one is
   "suspended in mid-air" anyway.

      "A melody like this" we may mention in passing, means a "beautiful,
      genial melody", "a genuine musical inspiration", without any other
      evidence being brought forward, whether for its beauty, its genius,
      or its genuineness, except that "the desire to explain it is a
      dilettante undertaking." For: ..."When we are faced with something
      ungraspable that defies our explanation, we are happy to loosen
      the strict succession of thoughts, surrender the weapons of reason
      and declare ourselves completely captive, dissolving defenselessly
      in feeling. To a genuine musical inspiration all one can truly
      say is "how beautiful it is!". Anything closer, any word in the
      direction of "Why?" belittles the impression received, injures
      the spiritual phenomenon, destroys the "breath" of the "poem"."

   Pfitzner manages, even in the case under discussion, to avoid these
   three dangers simply by regarding all purely musical arguments as
   dealt with in these few theoretical morsels quoted earlier.

   His next cry-"But for us who know, what a miracle of inspiration"
   -arouses the pleasant hope that we will after all hear something
   musically revealing about Traumerei from someone who understands
   the melody and the primeval language of music in general, that is,
   from "someone who knows" and not from some "enthusiast" who merely
   surrenders himself to his "feelings".  But we are fobbed off with a
   question that even manages to elude any sort of knowledge:

      "What can be said about it that will make it accessible to the
      understanding of one who does not feel this melody "through and
      through", this melody which is at the same time the whole piece,
      and where form and idea are practically identical? Nothing."

   Admitted!  But there ought to be something one can say about the
   quality of a melody to someone who DOES feel it through and through.
   Even if only about a negative example-any old piece of kitsch-which
   does not have to be felt through and through!  For if it really was
   impossible to produce and "arguments" except to those of us of feeling
   then anyone would have the same right to "enthuse into the illimitable"
   in the same tone as Pfitzner about any inspiration which he feels to
   be "beautiful", "genial", and "genuine", and one would not be able
   to contradict him.  If one reads these quotations from Pfitzner
   substituting Hildach for Schumann (for example) and Lenz for Traumerei,
   anyone who does not contest the right to "dissolve defenselessly in
   feeling would have to "surrender the weapons of reason" and "declare
   himself completely captive" to such a courageous Hildach enthusiast.

   That cannot be!  There must be some possibility of saying something
   irrefutable about a melody, something that will "make it accessible
   to the understanding " and awaken a sense of quality.  Naturally
   something of a musical nature; not purely matters of feeling and all
   too personal enthusiasm that cannot be implemented by any evidence,
   such as the following:

      "I can speak of the nobility of the language of sound, of the
      absolute originality, deeply personal quality and pristine
      peculiarity of the melody, of its Germanness, delicacy, intimacy-it
      is as though the words were flitting around in circles in front
      of the notes"-it certainly is-"all of them together cannot come
      close to saying what it is that makes the melody what it is."

   And that is right too!  Nevertheless he does attempt to get to grips
   with the beauty of this piece by calling it (after he has established
   that it is a Traumerei and not for heaven's sake "anything in the
   nature of a "reverie""): "thoughtful, serious feeling, deeply losing
   itself, fine-souled and yet powerful.  The well-known head of Schumann
   with his head supported on his hand can give an idea of this.  One
   can enthuse on into the illimitable in this way without managing to
   conjure up the magic of this music in words.  It is a drop of music
   from the deepest spring; we too (?) are musically depraved and lost
   if we dissociate ourselves from this beauty.".

   Yes, but we are also musically depraved and lost if we can find-and
   consider possible-no explanation (that brings us closer to the art)
   of this beauty except comparisons borrowed from all fields (but not
   music) and springing from a mood more tipsy than "fine-souled".

   It could be objected that the writings of the old masters sometimes
   contain descriptions of the sort that I am taking exception to, and
   that my criticism therefore applies not only to Pfitzner but also
   Schopenhauer, Wagner, or Schumann (for example).  My reply to
   this-without involving myself in the pros and cons of such musical
   description and the extent to which they are acceptable today-is that
   this sort of enthusiastic musical description only had sense when
   the world's attention had to be drawn to the beauty of a particular
   work, when this beauty had to be revealed.  And this usually required
   more courage than sticking up for Traumerei, which-as -mentioned
   before-charmed and impressed the whole musical world from the first
   day it appeared.  And remember that such literary remarks were always
   accompanied-when they originated from a significant composer (think
   of Schumann's Writings on Music and Musicians)-by purely musical
   discussion, usually on a very high level.  And when this was so, an
   exhaustive and relevant analysis was usually provided as well.

   In Pfitzner's book-which pretends to so much erudition in other
   respects-we are denied the very erudition which could convince us of
   his opinions.  And wherever he does use his erudition and theorizes,
   he does it in such a nonchalant and insufficient-even false-manner
   that (I must repeat what I said at the beginning) the unenlightened
   reader imagines he has in front of him a book by a philosopher or
   politician or other kind of scholar writing a feuilleton, but never
   by a composer of Pfitzner's standing.

   For how can such a composer dismiss the melody of Traumerei with the
   words "rising through the notes of the triad"? The beauty of this
   melody does not actually lie so much in the large number of motivic
   ideas, but in the three other characteristic features of beautiful
   melodies.  Namely: the exceptional pregnancy of the individual
   motives; their profuse relations with one another; and the manifold
   application of the given motivic material (see example 37).

   The fact that the melody "rises through the notes of the triad" is
   its least recommendation.  My feeling is-to take only this recurrent
   rising phrase (see the motive marked a)-that the auxiliary note E,
   dissonant with respect to the F major triad disposed as a succession
   of notes, is the characteristic and charming element.  And we must
   not forget that this whole turn of phrase is felt immediately as a
   variation (and what a variation!) of the initial leap of a fourth.
   This leap also survives in the motif of the descending phrase (b, c,
   d) constantly changing into different intervals (m) by taking advantage
   of every opportunity provided by the harmony.

   For reasons of space I can only hint at the other melodic variants.
   Notice particularly the variants of the above-mentioned descending
   phrase (x, y, z).  I cannot pass over the last appearance of this
   phrase (Z) without remarking that there is hardly anything one could
   say about it that would be less characteristic than Pfitzner's phrase
   about "feeling deeply losing itself".  From the highest note of this
   little four bar sentence we descend over a sixth for the first time,
   and this by means of a motivic "inversion" made up of interval steps,
   and, for the first time, an intervallic leap.  It is this inversion
   which Pfitzner's phrase so utterly fails to describe, this melodic
   return home, which is a return to the starting point from the harmonic
   point of view as well.

   Pfitzner's verdict on the rhythm of this melody is equally irrelevant.
   He cannot find any "finesse" in it, although the shift of accent
   between the strong and weak parts of the bar persists throughout the
   whole piece and must strike any musical listener as just such "finesse".
   This shift is evident in the first two bars, produced by the rising
   figure a which shifts the up-beat rhythm to a position one crotchet
   further on.  It is still more evident when one observes the half-closes
   and full-closes of the individual little four bar sentences from this
   point of view.  These end as follows:

   at A (and E) on the second crotchet
   at B (after a grace note) on the third crotchet
   at C on the fourth quaver

   The next sentence, which is apparently a sequential repeat of the
   preceding, does not close on the third crotchet (which would have
   been perfectly admissible harmonically) but-extending beyond it- at
   D on the fourth crotchet.

   Finally the last bar brings a close that is certainly different
   rhythmically from that of the second sentence: at F on the third
   crotchet.

   After what I have said so far, it will have to be admitted that by
   describing and "demonstrating" in this way we obtain a different, a
   more closely approximate image of the "quality of a melody:" than
   Pfitzner was capable of giving with his enthusing words and his
   insufficient analysis which falsified the musical facts.  In the
   music example I have tried to show (quite casually, in the first four
   bars notated above Schumann's original) how poverty-stricken such a
   melody looks when it does not possess, for example, the melodic
   refinements that I have listed, and of which one could really say
   merely that it "rises through the notes of the triad" and lacks
   "rhythmic finesse".  I have retained a second motif (the descending
   one, which Pfitzner does not even consider worth the trouble of
   mentioning) at least in the needy form s, and I have not changed
   Schumann's (by no means ordinary) harmonic skeleton.

   But Pfitzner rides rough-shod over the harmony too.  He refers to
   the "tonic, dominant, sub-dominant", but pretends to know nothing of
   any "deviation from the usual, as far as the elements are concerned".
   And yet what individuality we find here too!  Both as regards the
   structure within the individual sentences (notice, for example, in
   the first four bar sentence how the changes of harmony proceed in
   the following increasing and decreasing note values: 5/4, 3/4, 1/4,
   2/4, 1/8, 1/8, 1/4, 3/4, and then back to 5/4, etc) and as regards
   the disposition with reference to the whole piece and its prominent
   points.  These points-I am referring to the separate melodic climaxes
   of each of the six sentences-occur on the following chords, which
   get stronger harmonically in the order of their appearance:
   at G (and K) on a triad
   at H on a seventh chord
   at I (and J) on a ninth chord with minor ninth.

   The second repeat of the first eight bars should bring (if we were
   really dealing with "a little piece in song form with tonic, dominant,
   and sub-dominant") a mechanical repetition of the harmonic events of
   the first eight bars (G and H), with the second four-bar sentence
   providing the final return to the tonic (e.g.  by transposition a
   fourth higher).  But how is the tonic reached in actuality!  Instead
   of the expected seventh chord (belonging to the region of the
   sub-dominant) of the corresponding point H, we now hear at the last
   climax: at L a ninth chord, this time with a major ninth.

   The strongest chord harmonically has been saved up for the ends,
   and the cadence which follows it can be truly said to represent a
   "deviation from the usual": it contains one and the same cadential
   motif (c2) twice in succession (the only time in the whole piece that
   this happens), harmonized in two different ways.  And although it
   goes without saying that the conception of this piece-and composition
   in general-takes place in a sphere far removed from theoretical
   deliberations, yet it would hardly be possible to design an ending
   like this without artistic intention and the conscious exercise of
   technical musical ability.  We are all the more justified, even
   compelled (if we wish to form a judgment about music) to give an
   account of this from a musico-theoretical point of view as well, and
   further make it as precise and foolproof as possible.  But not like
   Pfitzner, whose manner of making musical "personal descriptions" is
   reminiscent of the conventional "official descriptions" where everything
   is represented as being "usual" and "normal".  Some ossifying official
   would have no scruples about writing the usual "special distinguishing
   marks: None" even under the picture of Schumann's head supported on
   his hand.

   Pfitzner does exactly the same with Traumerei!  He even goes further:
   he makes the composition seem quite insignificant, normal and lacking
   in distinguishing marks by representing it as a sort of bagatelle
   "for piano two hands" (even putting the phrase in inverted commas).
   Well, a brief glance at the music is enough to convince anyone that
   this is a strict piece of four part writing (with the exception of
   a coupe of points) which, as far as the style, character, contrapuntal
   technique, range of the individual parts and their playability and
   singability are concerned, could easily be given over to a string
   quartet or wind ensemble, or even to the four singing voices.

   There is a great difference between this composition (notice for
   example the four part imitation at e)-even though it appeared as a
   piano piece and is only valid as such-and the sort of composition
   that is dismissed as "for piano two hands", a genre that is basically
   restricted to a homophonic style in which melody and accompaniment
   are each allotted one of the two hands.  And it is a fact that the
   other pieces in the Kinderszenen do not possess this universal musical
   style, but use a pianistic style that takes into account-in a more
   or less artistic manner-the technique of the instrument.

   This difference jumps to the eye when one turns to the piece following
   Traumerei: No. 8 Am Kamin (see the musical example!).  But the
   other pieces are "piano pieces" even more than Am Kamin; for example
   No. 10 Fast zu Ernst.  Of this whole series of character pieces this
   is the one that cannot be credited with any more significant distinction
   (nor any less significant distinction) than "for piano two hands",
   whereas to describe Traumerei in this way is not only irrelevant but
   also-when it is stated so tendentiously-represents a disparagement
   of the style of this piece.

   Such a disparaging tone with reference to the purely musical
   properties of this melody is supposed to create an impression of
   artlessness, despite which an effect as elevated as it is "ungraspable"
   is obtained.  And once this impression is created-with six lines of
   analysis in telegraphic style and five times as many lines of courageous
   enthusing-it is easy to draw the conclusion-and this is the direction
   that Pfitzner's writing intends to take-namely, that it is just as
   useless for modern music to surround itself with the odium of technical
   artistry and find "theoretical support" for its horrors, as it is to
   try to find theoretical explanations for the beauty of classical
   music.  Which is the reason why in the whole book there is not a
   single attempt with regard to an example taken from modern music to
   find a purely musical orientation for himself and his readers about
   these horrors, and throw some light on them.  The statements (printed
   with wide spacing) that "musical impotence is declared permanent and
   supported theoretically" and that "music no longer needs to be
   beautiful, and the composer need have no ideas of his own" are
   considered sufficient.  None of this can be proved theoretically,
   any more than the opposite can be proved with regard to classical
   music.  A "real honest public" does not need such art, and whoever
   pretends to feel the need for it is one of those "culture snobs or
   worse" who, as is well known, "gobble up everything like dogs:
   Beethoven today, Kandinsky tomorrow".  Which is apparently conclusive
   evidence that "a symptom of decay" exists-a fact that was still called
   in question on the title page.

   It should now be my task, my duty even, to do what Pfitzner has
   carefully neglected to do in his whole book.  Namely to speak of
   that modern music which he attacks from literary, political and
   other points of view (but not from the musical point of view) in a
   matter-of-fact way for once, and demonstrate on at least one example
   how things stand today with regard to those matters that go into the
   making of good music: melodies, richness of harmony, polyphony,
   perfection of form, architecture, etc.  And if I succeeded in this
   as well as I did with Traumerei I would have proved the existence of
   that purely musical potency which Pfitzner fails to demonstrate even
   in the cases of Beethoven, Schumann, and Wagner, although his whole
   discussion of classical music was motivated solely by the intention
   of exposing the music of today as "impotent", and therewith striking
   it dead.

   For my aim of rehabilitating modern music I would choose-following
   a momentary impulse rather than with the intention of selecting
   particularly typical cases-two song-like melodies (just as Pfitzner
   did): Ach Knabe, du musst nicht traurig sein!  from der Schwildwache
   Nachtlied by Mahler, and the subsidiary them of Schonberg's Chamber
   Symphony.

   But this article is limited by considerations of space and I cannot
   go into these examples here.  Another time!  But I may be believed
   when I say that my proof of musical potency will be successful.
   Perhaps my musico-theoretical remarks about Schumann's Traumerei will
   be sufficient for that "small group"-apostrophized by me too-"who
   still have and want to have a sense for melody"; at least they can
   serve as a suggestion as to how modern melodies may be judged.  Such
   things are not simple!  It might be more obvious and easier for that
   small group to try using the negative procedure: namely, to take
   the standards that I applied to Schumann's Traumerei and am accustomed
   to apply in other cases, and apply them to a melody which would
   frustrate my other trusted "arguments" and "explanations" if I wanted
   to bring theoretical proof of its beauty.

   I chose-this time rather with the intention of selecting a particularly
   typical case than following a momentary impulse-a song composed in
   1916 (so it is certainly modern) [from Five Songs, opus 26, by Hans
   Pfitzner].  Unfortunately I cannot reproduce it on full, and can only
   give a harmonic indication of the accompaniment ("rising through the
   notes of the triad, for piano two hands".) (example 38)

   However, regard this melody with the same loving exactitude-penetrating
   into all the musical aspects-that I devoted to Traumerei, and you
   will not hold it against me if in this case I make an exception and
   save myself the trouble of making a penetrating musical analysis
   which would in any case only "diminish the impression and injure the
   spiritual phenomenon".  For truly: With a melody like this one is
   suspended in mid-air.  One can recognize its quality, not demonstrate
   it: there is no agreement to be reached about this quality by
   intellectual means: either one understands it by the rapture it
   arouses, or one does not.  Whoever cannot go along with it cannot be
   converted by arguments, and there is nothing to say against someone
   who attacks it except to play the melody and say "How beautiful".
   Which I do herewith.

   Alban Berg

 From "Musikblatter des Anbruch", Vienna, second year, No. 11-12, June 1920

--Doug Fields