My name is Johndra.  I am the only surviving member of a team dispatched
from 19th Century Earth to go where no man has gone before.  Our mission?
Explore the otherworldly landscapes of Schoenberg's "Moses und Aron."

My credentials: tours of duty have included the Mahler Symphonies, early
Schoenberg, and I eat Berg operas for breakfast.

What we know about the atmosphere, (without yet having visited): There
is evidence of fire, in the form of a burning bush--hopefully an updated
version of Wagner's Magic Fire music? We shall see.  The Tone Row, as a
single voice, has been spotted by some of our more perceptive astronomers
in a vast desert in scene II--here, hopefully we can recover our bearings.
Evidence also suggests that the locals love to dance naked and throw raw
meat at each other--potential for some orchestral fireworks--possibly
Respighian?

The following is a series of journal entries that may or may not be
accurate because.....well, you will see.

Day one: We land near the burning bush--alas, no musical fire ala Wagner,
just voices murmuring, (a little like Ligeti) and they are saying something
to Moses about crowd control.  The ground shifts endlessly, making it very
hard for Schoenberg's main character to stay on pitch.  We move on to the
desert.

Day two: We meet Aron in the desert--he sings better than Moses, and
they soon depart together, leaving us alone and lost.  "Do you think we
missed the Tone Row?" I ask my navigator as the sun begins to set.  He is
frantically drawing a "magic square" in the sand to find his bearings, but
it is getting too dark to see.  I catch glimpses of a golden calf in the
distance and head toward it.  My navigator decides to stay behind with the
medic, Richard Strauss, and that's the last I see of both of them.

Day three: Act II is way better.  Naked people and orgies and
stuff--fantastic playing by the Concertgebouw and Boulez.  (If only
he conducted Mahler this way) Great choral singing too!

Day four: The orgy continues.  The "Butcher's Dance" has some wonderfully
delicate orchestration.  The "Golden Calf" scene delivers--percussion
section has waken up.  Why is it that mass hysteria brings out the best in
composers?

Day five: The orgy continues to contine.  Where's Moses?

Day six: O.K.  I can't take much more of this--at least Act III will pull
everything together....maybe a touching ending like Berg's Wozzeck?

Last journal entry: nO
                ac
   T

                tH
   re
              e

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 ["Johndra?"]    ["Johndra?"]

A computer calls to me from the corner of my room.  I am back at home.
"Are you Hal?" I ask.

 ["No. My name is Dave."] The computer responds.  ["I would like to
introduce you to a few of my people."]

Three men are standing over me.

"John, my name is Steve, and I'm here to help you with your Modern Music
issues.  I've looked over your journal and it seems to me that you actually
liked this music--yet have still decided to make fun of it.  However, I've
decided to take you seriously because we found on your person an item which
many don't bring with them when posting about their musical journeys."

"Humor?"  I ask.

"No," Steve answers, "a spellcheck."

An older gentleman, yet very tanned and muscular, and dressed in fatigues
pushes Steve out of the way.  Among his many medals is a purple heart
with the single word "Border's" inscribed upon it.  "Hi John, my name
is Donald."

"But what do I need to know about obscure 18th Century composers on
expensive French record labels?" My memory is coming back to me.

"I'm not here on a music mission." Donald gruffly reponded.  "I'm here
to teach you survival skills--make you rough and tough--more manly.  For
starters, I've noticed that only 1 in 20 of your classical CD's has a
picture of a pretty woman musician on the front cover.  What's up with
that?"

Finally, I am introduced to a gentleman named Deryk: "Johndra, we ran some
tests and discovered that your Mahler education was dreadfully lacking.
Who, pray, were your teachers?"

"Solti, Haitink......Sinopoli," I answer timidly.  It was so quiet you
could hear a Webern slow movement.  Now able to sit up, I noticed my room
had been re-arranged.  "Why have you left me with only one stereo speaker,
and why have you replaced my CD player with a turntable? Who is
Horenstein?"

Derek laughed grimly, "Men, we certainly have our work cut out for us...."

John Smyth