Dave Pitzer wrote concerning Beethoven's 4th Piano Concerto, 2nd mov:

>I rather imagine that Beethoven (in his marvelous and unique way) had in
>mind a "struggle" between a strong (ff) 1st theme and a weaker (pp) 2nd
>theme.  A masculine vs.  feminine theme.  (oops!  there I go upsetting the
>feminist again!  Too bad.) His joy (I imagine to myself) was in playing
>these two ideas off against each other with, of course, the weaker theme
>winning.  He may also have intentionally placed a further limitation on
>himself -- write this movement with only a piano, 1st and 2nd violins,
>violas, cellos and basses, nothing more.  And even then, the 1st and 2nd
>violins are playing in unison most - if not all - the time.

This pretty much states my case as well.  Basic psychological responses
to contrast, similarity, tension and relaxation, to name two essential
pairs of opposites in music, do not require attachment to externals.
An accelerando e crescendo can lead to mounting excitement, but that
excitement doesn't have to be anthropomorphized.

Beethoven seldom if ever wrote anything purely descriptive, and neither
did Tchaikovsky (OK, there are some works like Romeo & Juliet, Francesca
da Rimini, I guess--but not the symphonies.) Strauss is another matter.
But even with Strauss the music is the most important thing.  The program
can never be the raison d'etre for the notes.  Take the music away from any
written incarnation of Strauss's or Berlioz's pieces and you generally are
left with pretty pathetic stuff.  Don Quixote pathetic? Of course not--but
the mere stringing together of episodes left after the music is removed is
like dead seaweed on the beach.  It has no reason to exist in itself.  It's
much better (for me anyway) to think of these works as inspired by, or
takeoffs on, the parent works.  We can appreciate the inspiration and make
the connection but we are fooling ourselves if we take that to be the most
important thing.  One thing that Also Sprach Z is NOT is "philosophy in
tones" or whatever it was that someone wrote about it.

Thinking about that work recalls the curious ending of conflicting B
and C tonalities.  While Strauss never explained this, we might assume
it represents an unresolved situation, perhaps the fundamental riddle of
existence.  Maybe the conflict between the human, the limiting, and the
superhuman, the limitless.  Maybe not.  But whatever it may be, it is
embedded in the tones themselves through the meanings we attach to them,
and which grow out of the musical context itself.  To express the idea in
tones is to express it in a way that words can't really do.  Words may
"explain" where music "expresses" (but I think "embodies" is a better
word for it.)

Chris Bonds