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University of Iowa

Iowa Research Online


Theses and Dissertations

Summer 2016

Compositional strategies in Alfred Schnittke’s early


polystylism
Solomon Fenton-Miller
University of Iowa

Copyright 2016 Solomon Fenton-Miller

This thesis is available at Iowa Research Online: https://ir.uiowa.edu/etd/2074

Recommended Citation
Fenton-Miller, Solomon. "Compositional strategies in Alfred Schnittke’s early polystylism." MA (Master of Arts) thesis, University of
Iowa, 2016.
https://ir.uiowa.edu/etd/2074. https://doi.org/10.17077/etd.n8esur28

Follow this and additional works at: https://ir.uiowa.edu/etd

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COMPOSITIONAL STRATEGIES IN ALFRED SCHNITTKE’S EARLY POLYSTYLISM

by

Solomon Fenton-Miller

A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment


of the requirements for the Master of Arts
degree in Music in the
Graduate College of
The University of Iowa

August 2016

Thesis Supervisor: Assistant Professor Jennifer Iverson


Graduate College
The University of Iowa
Iowa City, Iowa

CERTIFICATE OF APPROVAL

____________________________

MASTER'S THESIS

_________________

This is to certify that the Master's thesis of

Solomon Fenton-Miller

has been approved by the Examining Committee for


the thesis requirement for the Master of Arts degree
in Music at the August 2016 graduation.

Thesis Committee: _________________________________________


Jennifer Iverson, Thesis Supervisor

__________________________________________
Robert Cook

__________________________________________
Nathan Platte
ABSTRACT

The early polystylism of Alfred Schnittke demonstrates a gradual movement

away from strict serialism towards a more mimetic music of quotations, allusions,

aleatoric techniques, and tonal styles. This thesis investigates three pieces from 1968:

film music for The Glass Harmonica, Serenade for Five Musicians, and Violin Sonata

No. 2, Quasi Una Sonata. The first piece is analyzed as a clash of two ideas, the

transcendent and the grotesque, which are exhibited in the music’s allusions to J. S.

Bach and the presence of twentieth-century aleatory and atonality. The various

technical features of Serenade and Violin Sonata No. 2 show the importance of

dodecaphony and motivic atonality as unifying procedures. Temporal and pitch

indeterminacy are also prevalent but it is perhaps the fleeting tonal references that

hint at how important appropriation of older styles would be for Schnittke’s later

music.

ii
PUBLIC ABSTRACT

The Russian composer Alfred Schnittke (1934-1998) is most associated with

polystylism, a term he coined to describe the combination of musical quotation,

stylistic allusion, and original material. Schnittke’s music contains surprising shifts

from Bach-style chorales to excerpts of Beethoven to twentieth-century atonality and

jazz. This thesis examines three early pieces by the composer: film music for The Glass

Harmonica, Serenade for Five Musicians, and Violin Sonata No. 2, Quasi Una Sonata,

all from 1968. The first piece is interpreted as a clash of two ideas, the transcendent

and the grotesque, which are exhibited in both the narrative and the music. The

technical features of Serenade and Violin Sonata No. 2 show the importance of modern

compositional procedures. These pieces demonstrate that Schnittke was experimenting

with references to the past while still unifying his “serious” music with systematic

techniques from the present.

iii
TABLE OF CONTENTS

List of Examples…………………………………………………………………………………..v
1. Introduction ..............................................................................................................................1
Background ................................................................................................................................. 3
Literature Review ..................................................................................................................... 12
Approaching Schnittke’s Music................................................................................................ 19
2. The Glass Harmonica .............................................................................................................22
Film Plot.................................................................................................................................... 26
The Transcendent ...................................................................................................................... 28
The Grotesque ........................................................................................................................... 35
Film Narrative and Polystylism ................................................................................................ 48
3. Serenade .................................................................................................................................50
Overview of Serenade ............................................................................................................... 52
One: Dodecaphony.................................................................................................................... 53
Two: Temporal Indeterminacy ................................................................................................. 60
Three: Pitch Indeterminacy ....................................................................................................... 65
Four: Quotation ......................................................................................................................... 68
Five: Stylistic Allusion ............................................................................................................. 72
Technical Balance in Serenade ................................................................................................. 74
4. Violin Sonata No. 2 (Quasi Una Sonata) ...............................................................................76
Overview ................................................................................................................................... 79
One: Dodecaphony.................................................................................................................... 80
Two: Motivic Atonality ............................................................................................................ 85
Three: Pitch Indeterminacy ....................................................................................................... 90
Four: Quotation ......................................................................................................................... 93
Stylistic Allusion ....................................................................................................................... 96
Technical Balance ................................................................................................................... 101
5. Conclusion ..........................................................................................................................103
References ............................................................................................................................... 105

iv
LIST OF EXAMPLES

Example 1-1, Schnittke’s Film Work from the 1960s .................................................... 9

Example 2-1, The Craftsman, 2:24 in The Glass Harmonica ....................................... 23

Example 2-2, The Yellow Devil, 3:40 in The Glass Harmonica .................................... 24

Example 2-3, Scene analysis of The Glass Harmonica ............................................... 28

Example 2-4, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, I, mm. 1-9 ............................ 30

Example 2-5, Young Boy in Crowd, 2:44 in The Glass Harmonica ............................... 32

Example 2-6, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, I, mm. 8-14 .......................... 32

Example 2-7, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, II, 9-16 ................................. 33

Example 2-8, Transformation of informant, 14:31 in The Glass Harmonica ................ 34

Example 2-9, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, II, 17-24 ............................... 34

Example 2-10, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, III, mm. 92-93 .................... 38

Example 2-11, Couple at home, 5:48 in The Glass Harmonica .................................... 38

Example 2-12, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, III, mm. 111-115 ................. 40

Example 2-13, Husband’s eyes, 6:15 in The Glass Harmonica .................................... 41

Example 2-14, Citizens dance around statue, 9:35 in The Glass Harmonica................. 42

Example 2-15, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, III, mm. 329-331 ................. 43

Example 2-16, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, III, mm. 341-346 ................. 45

Example 2-17, Citizen’s face in a window, 13:13 in The Glass Harmonica ................... 47

Example 2-18, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, IV, mm. 51-53 ..................... 48

Example 3-1, Chart of compositional techniques in Serenade .................................... 52

v
Example 3-2, Matrix showing all permutations of Serenade’s tone row ...................... 54

Example 3-3, Matrix showing row segments in Serenade .......................................... 55

Example 3-4, Serenade, Mvt. I, R. 10 and 11, row P9: [9,10,4,0,7,6,5,3,2,8,1,11] ........... 56

Example 3-5, Serenade, Mvt. II, R. 1 and 2 ................................................................ 57

Example 3-6, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 1 ....................................................................... 58

Example 3-7, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 24 ...................................................................... 59

Example 3-8, Beginning of Serenade, Mvt. I, R. 1 ...................................................... 61

Example 3-9, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 13-14 ................................................................. 62

Example 3-10, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 23 .................................................................... 63

Example 3-11, Symphony No. 6, op. 173, Alan Hovhaness ......................................... 64

Example 3-12, Serenade, Mvt. II, R. 1 ....................................................................... 65

Example 3-13, Serenade, Mvt. II, R. 6 ....................................................................... 66

Example 3-14, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 2-3 ................................................................... 67

Example 3-15, Polymorphia, Penderecki, R. 11-12..................................................... 68

Example 3-16, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 17 .................................................................... 69

Example 3-17, Tchaikovsky, Piano Concerto No. 1, mm. 60-61, key of D-flat ............... 70

Example 3-18, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 19 .................................................................... 71

Example 3-19, Beethoven, Piano Sonata No. 8, mm. 135-138 ...................................... 71

Example 3-20, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 7-8 ................................................................... 73

Example 3-21, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 5 ...................................................................... 73

Example 3-22, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 6 ...................................................................... 74

Example 4-1, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 101-120......................................................... 82

vi
Example 4-2, Violin Sonata No. 2, matrix used in mm. 101-120 highlighted ................ 83

Example 4-3, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 121-124, violin part ....................................... 83

Example 4-4, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 214-218......................................................... 84

Example 4-5, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 236-238......................................................... 85

Example 4-6, Berg, Violin Concerto, mm. 15-20, solo violin ....................................... 85

Example 4-7, George Perle’s motivic cells in Bartók’s string quartets.......................... 86

Example 4-8, Cell x in Bartók, String Quartet No. 4, I, mm. 1-2 ................................... 87

Example 4-9, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 1-6 ............................................................... 88

Example 4-10, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 96-98 .......................................................... 88

Example 4-11, Violin Sonata No. 2, beginning of m. 178 ............................................ 89

Example 4-12, Violin Sonata No. 2, m. 14, piano ....................................................... 90

Example 4-13, Violin Sonata No. 2, second half of m. 92 ............................................ 91

Example 4-14, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 121-124 ....................................................... 92

Example 4-15, Violin Sonata No. 2, m. 179 ................................................................ 93

Example 4-16, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 209-211, ...................................................... 94

Example 4-17, Webern, Symphony op. 21, Mvt. II, mm. 20-26.................................... 94

Example 4-18, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 246-249 ....................................................... 95

Example 4-19, Beethoven, Variations and Fugue in E-flat Major, m. 9-12 .................... 95

Example 4-20, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 1-7.............................................................. 97

Example 4-21, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 322-333 ....................................................... 98

Example 4-22, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 196-201 ....................................................... 99

Example 4-23, The Glass Harmonica Suite, I, mm. 1-9 ............................................... 99

vii
Example 4-24, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 257-259 ..................................................... 101

viii
1

1. Introduction

According to Peter Schmelz, the premiere of Alfred Schnittke’s Symphony No. 1

on February 9, 1974, in Gorky, USSR, was the event that “put polystylism into

practice.”1 The symphony combines quotations from popular songs, hymns, jazz, and

classical works with serial, aleatoric, and strictly tonal music.2 Evidently, it was an

altogether shocking experience for the Soviet musicians and music devotees who

attended. The Gorky Worker, an official party newspaper, stated that the symphony

“was innovative in form only, describing satanic evil without showing any positive way

out.” 3 Other contemporary reviews were mixed and the board of the Composers’ Union

heavily criticized the symphony. Future performances were limited until 1986, when it

was finally performed in Moscow and then in England, establishing itself as one of

Schnittke’s most recognized and remarkable compositions.4

But what led up to the First Symphony’s development and Schnittke’s new

compositional approach? How have scholars made sense of music that seems so

persistently disjunct? In this thesis, I take up these questions by studying several of

Schnittke’s pieces from the late 1960s, all examples of music that anticipated

1
Peter Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, (Oxford
University Press, 2009), 304.
2
Christopher Mark Segall, “Triadic Music in Twentieth-century Russia,” (PhD diss., The City University
of New York, 2013), 162.
3
Alexander Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke, (London: Phaidon Press Limited, 1996), 121-122.
4
Alex Ross, “Connoisseur of Chaos: Schnittke,” The New Republic, September 28, 1992.
2

Symphony No. 1 both historically and stylistically: the film music for The Glass

Harmonica (released in 1968), Serenade for Five Musicians (1968), and Violin Sonata

No. 2, Quasi Una Sonata (1968).

Schmelz characterizes Schnittke’s early polystylism as a gradual move away

from strict serialism towards a more mimetic music of quotations, allusions, aleatoric

techniques, and tonal styles. He cites Schnittke’s quote from 1964: “It seemed to me

that there was something not quite satisfactory with those techniques: the pretensions

of the people who create it reached such an extreme that you might think that it …

guaranteed quality.”5 By identifying and analyzing the specific compositional strategies

in these pieces, I will nuance Schmelz’s trajectory of Schnittke’s music. I interpret the

film music of The Glass Harmonica as a clash between two opposing styles: the

transcendent and the grotesque. For Serenade and Violin Sonata No. 2 I demonstrate

the pervasiveness of dodecaphony and motivic atonality and the very limited use of

tonal references, among other techniques. In this chapter I review Schnittke’s

biography and compositional trajectory, discuss the existing scholarly literature on

Schnittke and analytical approaches to collage music more generally, and provide a

summary of the main arguments and chapter outlines for the thesis.

5
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 244.
3

Background

Alfred Schnittke was born in 1934 in the city of Engels, USSR.6 His father, Harry,

and his mother, Maria were non-practicing, ethnically Jewish, Volga Germans.7 Harry

worked as a newspaper writer in Engels and Maria taught German. The family was

ardently communist but faced growing anti-Semitism during and after World War II. In

1945, Schnittke’s father took a job for a Soviet newspaper in Vienna and the family

moved a year later.

Alfred showed an interest in music from a young age. He played the balalaika

and mouth-harp at home even though his father didn’t support these activities. When

he was seven, he auditioned at the Central Music School in Moscow for gifted children

but World War II began and he had to return to his parents. Thus, it wasn’t until he was

twelve in Vienna that he was able to take music lessons. His teacher, Frau Ruber, was a

professional pianist who lived above his parents’ flat. Alfred was a quick learner and

already knew he wanted to become a composer. He attended opera performances,

concerts, and many free chamber recitals where he was able to hear the music of

Mozart, Wagner, Beethoven, Schubert, Debussy, and Stravinsky.

The Schnittke family returned to Moscow in 1948 where Harry found work.

Alfred began studying at the October Revolution Music College with the help of a

recommendation from a family friend. He studied piano and then in 1950 began

6
Ivan Moody and Alexander Ivashkin, “Schnittke, Alfred,” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online.
Oxford University Press, accessed Jan. 20, 2015.
7
Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke, 13.
4

private lessons with Joseph Ryzhkin, a well-known theorist. Ryzhkin taught him

harmony, form, and composition, including the study of some newer music. Schnittke

composed many pieces modeled after the music of Rachmaninov and Rimsky-

Korsakov. His music was good enough that he was accepted into the Moscow

Conservatory in 1953.

That same year brought great change to Soviet culture when Nikita Khrushchev

became First Secretary of the Communist Party. Censorship of the arts was diminished,

part of a process now called the “Thaw.”8 As Schmelz explains, this period saw a new

freedom in literature, visual arts, music, and film that broke the boundaries of socialist

realism. Young artists were able to work more abstractly, “catch up” on Western

developments, and include aspects of social commentary in their art.9

Nonetheless, musicians still worked in a restrictive environment compared to

the West. Schnittke’s experience as a young composer was often a complicated balance

between artistic desire and official pressure. Schmelz describes the music of Schnittke,

Andrei Volkonsky, Arvo Pärt, Edison Denisov, Sofia Gubaidulina, and others as

“unofficial,” meaning music that was neither officially condoned nor outright

banned.10 These composers were all salaried members of the Union of Composers,

under the Ministry of Culture. The Union controlled performances and publishing

rights, policing the activities of its members but not usually banning music outright.

8
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 3.
9
Ibid., 6.
10
Ibid., 20.
5

Schnittke generally fared better than his colleagues but was still under a considerable

amount of pressure to conform to certain unspoken aesthetic doctrines. For instance,

his Music for Piano and Chamber Orchestra was allowed a successful Warsaw

performance in 1965 but then criticized at an official discussion later that year. The

unofficial composers often resorted to smaller clubs and homes for performances of

their more innovative pieces.

Volkonsky was the first of these unofficial composers to employ serial

techniques. As a student in 1953, he was deemed too modernist and expelled from the

conservatory, ostensibly for possessing scores by Schoenberg and Stravinsky.11 The

young composers were never quite sure how far they could push the aesthetic envelope

while still being tolerated by the administration. Schnittke, several years Volkonsky’s

junior, was afforded a little more freedom. In his biography of Schnittke, Alexander

Ivashkin details how the Moscow Conservatory composition teacher, Evgeny Golubev,

supported Schnittke’s creativity and advised him to write with variation.12 Beginning in

1954, Schnittke had access to scores by Schoenberg, Webern, Berg, and Stravinsky.13

He studied serialism but didn’t often utilize the techniques. Schnittke said that “at first

dodecaphony seemed to me an extraordinarily easy method of composition.”14 His

11
Frans C. Lemaire, “Volkonsky, Andrey Mikhaylovich,” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online.
Oxford University Press, accessed February 20, 2015.
12
Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke, 60-63.
13
Ibid., 62.
14
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 233.
6

work at the Moscow Conservatory was more influenced by Shostakovich, Stravinsky,

Kodály, and Orff.

Schnittke wrote many chamber pieces at school, including six preludes,

variations for piano, a suite for string quartet, and various other songs and choral

pieces. His graduation piece was the oratorio Nagasaki. Schnittke submitted the piece

to a festival for young composers organized by the Union of Composers. It was

subsequently criticized for being too “formalist,” perhaps because it includes tone

clusters that represent the explosion of the atomic bomb.15 Despite the absence of an

official aesthetic decree during the Thaw, the Union of Composers director, Tikhon

Khrennikov, led the organization in a very strict and conservative manner. Soviet

composers still needed financial support from the state during the Thaw, and were

thus subject to the unpredictable and changing whims of the officials and boards

serving under the Ministry of Culture. Schnittke and his colleagues were free to some

extent to follow their artistic and creative interests, and had some exposure to Western

modernist and even avant-garde music and discourses. However, they had to

continually calculate their innovations and creative directions against both overt and

subtle official pressures and expectations.

Schnittke continued as a postgraduate student at the conservatory in 1958. His

cantata Songs of War and Peace was successfully performed in 1960 and praised by

15
Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke, 68-69.
7

Shostakovich, who called it “a remarkable work.”16 This and Schnittke’s electronic

piece Poem about Space led to a positive reappraisal by the Union and he was

commissioned to write an opera for the Bolshoi Opera. That opera, The Eleventh

Commandment, was never performed because of its musical language, and the Union

of Composers never accepted Schnittke as an official member. Instead, he began

teaching part-time at the conservatory in 1961, though never as a full professor because

of his turbulent relationship with officials.17

In 1963 Luigi Nono visited the Soviet Union as a member of the Italian

Communist Party.18 He met with several of the younger Soviet composers, including

Schnittke, and discussed contemporary Western practices. Schnittke was impressed

and began to write strictly serial music, composing the pieces Music for Chamber

Orchestra and Music for Piano and Chamber Orchestra in 1964. These works were

never performed domestically but were both successful abroad and eventually

published. Through the mid-1960s Schnittke began to build a reputation for being an

expert on modern Western music. He gave lectures on Stockhausen and Henri

Pousseur and was criticized at least once by more conservative professors for teaching

dodecaphony.19

16
Alfred Schnittke, A Schnittke Reader, ed. Alexander Ivashkin, trans. John Goodliffe (Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 2002), xv.
17
Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke, 104.
18
Schnittke, A Schnittke Reader, xx.
19
Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke, 87.
8

Despite his interest in serial and other avant-garde Western music, Schnittke

didn’t remain a serialist for long. He began to see disadvantages in the technique: “It

seemed to me that I was writing a sort of new, complicated form of hack-work. Of

course, if you start the composition from only calculations then it is possible to

substitute them for that real creative work that is connected with vagaries, with

torments, with the incomprehension of how to proceed further, and with finding true

solutions.”20 Schnittke began experimenting with aleatoric devices in his 1965 Dialogue

for Cello and Seven Performers and then again in his 1966 Violin Concerto No. 2. The

latter is based on a telling of the Biblical Passion in which instrumental groups

represent characters in the story.21 Schnittke’s written narrative describes the violin

soloist as Christ, the strings as the twelve disciples, and the solo bass as Judas.

At the same time, Schnittke began to supplement his meager teaching income

with outside work. Film composition was not under the jurisdiction of the Union of

Composers and was subject to fewer official constraints. He wrote his first of sixty-six

film scores in 1962, averaging three to four projects per year.22 Table 1 shows films on

which Schnittke worked in the 1960s. Despite this rather large output, he remained

ambivalent about composing for films: “when I was writing mainly film music

(although I liked writing it and much of the work was very interesting) for fifteen years,

I naturally still felt it to be my secondary task…”23 The film work was perhaps more

20
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 244.
21
Ibid., 246.
22
Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke, 104.
23
Schnittke, A Schnittke Reader, 22.
9

important for his serious composition than he would admit. In fact, many of

Schnittke’s other pieces from the 1960s and 1970s contain material adapted from this

work.24

Title Year
Introduction 1962
Aim the Barrage at Us 1963
Adventures of a Dentist 1965
Just a Little Joke 1966
The Commissar 1967
The Angel 1968
House and Owner 1968
Day Stars 1968
Used Cartridge Case 1968
The Sixth of July 1968
The Night Call 1968
The Glass Harmonica 1968
The Waltz 1969
Sick at Heart 1969
A Ballerina Abroad 1969

Example 1-1, Schnittke’s Film Work from the 1960s

The music for The Glass Harmonica was written in the mid 1960s, at the same

time as the Concerto No. 2 (1966), Violin Sonata No. 2 (1968), and Serenade (1968).

These pieces show the first signs of polystylism – quick stylistic shifts, quotations, and

musical allusions. Schnittke actually popularized the term “polystylism” himself, using

it to describe his music and that of others in a 1971 essay.25 He said that “in the

beginning, I composed in a distinct style, but as I see it now, my personality was not

24
Jean-Benoit Tremblay, “Polystylism and Narrative Potential in the Music of Alfred Schnittke,” (PhD
diss., The University of British Columbia, Canada, 2007).
25
Schnittke, A Schnittke Reader, 87.
10

coming through. More recently I have used many different styles and quotations from

many periods of musical history, but my own voice comes through them clearly

now.”26 Though it is counterintuitive, Schnittke was in a sense saying that he created

his own voice by appropriating material from many sources.

He divided polystylism into two parts. The first he called the principle of

quotation, by which he meant either exact quotation from another piece or partial

quotation of some musical aspect, such as chord structure or form. The second is the

principle of allusion, which he considered a more general borrowing of style such as

used in neoclassicist pieces from the early twentieth century. Schnittke cited

Zimmermann’s Die Soldaten, Slonimsky’s A Voice from the Chorus, and Berio’s

Sinfonia as examples of the successful use of polystylistic techniques. The last of these

he considered to be particularly effective: “[Berio’s Sinfonia is an] apocalyptic

reminder of our responsibility for the fate of the world…expressed through a collage of

quotations, that is of musical documents of various epochs, reminding one of cinema

advertising in the 1970s.”27

Schnittke also began to prominently use the cryptogram BACH in his early

music. This procedure involves employing musical ideas that correspond to words or

names. BACH stands for B-flat, A, C, and B-natural in German musical notation.28 This

26
Allan Kozinn, “An Eclectic Mix, through a Contemporary Prism,” The New York Times (22 May
1988), II, 23.
27
Schnittke, A Schnittke Reader, 90.
28
Paul Griffiths, "Cryptography," The Oxford Companion to Music. Oxford Music Online. Oxford
University Press, accessed May 28, 2016.
11

particular cryptogram, which references the music of J. S. Bach, has a long history of

use by composers such as Robert Schumann, Franz Liszt, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov,

Arnold Schoenberg, and Arvo Pärt.29 Schnittke situates himself in this line of

composers by featuring the motif. Additionally, as will be apparent in later analysis,

the BACH cryptogram can be flexibly incorporated into both traditional and modern

compositional contexts.

Schnittke’s Symphony No. 1 from 1974 is one of his most aggressively

polystylistic pieces. It is a mix of various styles and techniques, even including

directions for the performers to exit the stage and return while playing a funeral

march.30 Schnittke continued with his Piano Quintet from 1976, which combined non-

tonal music with waltz and other popular styles. 31 He was at the successful premiere of

his Concerto Grosso No. 1 (1977) in Vienna, during his first trip abroad in years. The

piece juxtaposes Baroque form and style with highly chromatic sound clusters and

sections of popular music.

Schnittke’s international reputation had been established by the early 1980s and

official Soviet distaste towards his music begin to soften.32 He traveled more and gave

lectures inside and outside of the Soviet Union. His music also began to pull away from

the disjunct shifts of his early polystylism. His Second and Third String Quartets (1980

29
"B–A–C–H," The Oxford Companion to Music. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed
May 28, 2016.
30
Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke, 120.
31
Moody and Ivashkin, “Schnittke, Alfred.”
32
Ivashkin, Alfred Schnittke, 162.
12

and 1983) are derived from quoted material but remain more consistent in style. And

his later Second (1979), Third (1980), and Fourth (1983) Symphonies are polystylistic

like his first but not as bombastic. Ivan Moody describes the Fourth as “absorbing

[Schnittke’s] quoted material into the foundations of his own language.”33

Literature Review

Alfred Schnittke became popular in the West suddenly. Richard Tiedman,

writing for Tempo in 1992, explained that, “Little more than a decade ago he was the

province of specialists in the contemporary Soviet composers; over the last ten years

the swing of the pendulum to the other extreme has been total.”34 While it is true that

Schnittke became known in the West fairly quickly, English-language scholarship on

Schnittke began slowly in the 1990s and then started to expand after about 2000. There

is one biography, one collection of writings, and several books on Soviet art music after

1950.35 In the literature review below, I will focus on analytical research which includes

only a few dissertations and a handful of published articles.

Ivan Moody and Hugh Collins Rice provide two early overviews of Schnittke’s

composition. In a short article for Tempo from 1989, Moody situates Schnittke as the

heir of Shostakovich: “…recent works have proved ‘polystylism’ to be an efficient

generator of that kind of alienation, expressed in ironic manipulation of various

33
Moody and Ivashkin, “Schnittke, Alfred.”
34
Richard, Tiedman, “The ascendancy of Alfred Schnittke has been phenomenal…,” Tempo 182 (1992),
47-48.
35
See Ivashkin, Schnittke, and Schmelz.
13

stylistic elements, which Schnittke has taken over from Shostakovich.”36 Moody

comments on the “interrelated musical gestures” of the Concerto Grosso No. 1, which

serve as connecting points between quotations. He also gives an introduction to

Schnittke’s symphonies, mentioning how the first was radically disjunct and the others

progressively more unified.

In the following issue of Tempo, Hugh Collins Rice identifies the BACH musical

cryptogram (pitch classes B-flat, A, C, B-natural which represent the letters of J. S.

Bach’s name in German musical nomenclature) and a few of its transformations in the

second violin sonata. Rice says that “procedures of this sort allow all the thematic

material to be presented in all possible guises, and a complex network of resonances

and relationships is established.”37 He also lists several quotations in Schnittke’s String

Quartet No. 3 (1983), from Lassus, Beethoven, and Shostakovich. Rice says that it is

mainly the juxtaposition of material from Lassus’ Stabat Mater with chromatic

tetrachords that give the piece a polystylistic identity.

Ten years later, scholars began to approach Schnittke’s music through more

extensive analysis. Peterson’s 2000 dissertation, “Structural Threads in the Patchwork

Quilt: Polystylistics and Motivic Unity in Selected Works by Alfred Schnittke,” focuses

on shared pitch-classes in the motives of several late polystylistic compositions. She

explains that “while the issue of unity may seem foreign to the conception of such

36
Ivan Moody, “The Music of Alfred Schnittke,” Tempo New Series 168 (1989), 4.
37
Hugh Collins Rice, “Further Thoughts on Schnittke,” Tempo New Series 168 (1989), 13.
14

works, Schnittke’s music consistently uses motivic elements which cut across varying

stylistic layers to form deeper level connections.”38 Peterson, as do many other

Schnittke scholars, is searching for connections within a style of music that doesn’t

provide many.

She demonstrates the effectiveness of pitch-class set analysis for Schnittke’s

music on several excerpts before more fully studying Concerto Grosso No. 1 (1977) and

No. 3 (1985). In Schnittke’s Concerto Grosso No. 1 she identifies set classes [0,1,3] and

[0,1,4] as common trichords which appear often throughout the piece.39 Peterson says

that these are unifying elements but also admits that “… they are not the most audible –

or stylistically diverse – components of the composition.”40 In the Concerto Grosso No.

3 Peterson shows how most of the themes are dodecaphonic. She also indicates the

importance of several basic sets but spends most of her time on the appearance of the

BACH cryptogram throughout the piece, calling it the “structural thread” in the piece.41

Gavin Dixon presents several narrative readings of Schnittke’s music in his 2007

dissertation. He frames his analysis using the concept of dialogue as developed by

Mikhail Bakhtin. In a polystylistic work, this means that various styles serve as voices

that interact with each other.42 The exact meaning of these voices requires

38
Kirsten Peterson, “Structural threads in the patchwork quilt: Polystylistics and Motivic Unity in
Selected Works by Alfred Schnittke” (PhD diss., University of Connecticut, 2000), abstract.
39
Ibid., 142.
40
Ibid., 143.
41
Ibid., 227.
42
Gavin Thomas Dixon, “Polystylism as Dialogue: A Bakhtinian Interpretation of Schnittke’s Symphonies
3, 4, and his Concerto Grosso No. 4/Symphony No. 5” (PhD diss., Goldsmiths College, 2007), 44.
15

interpretation. For instance, a quotation from the Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 would

represent Bach’s voice whereas a generic Baroque chorale might represent the

institution of the church.

Dixon’s analysis of Schnittke’s Fourth Symphony approaches the work as the

composer’s perspective on various religious traditions.43 He identifies four themes that

represent the Orthodox, Jewish, Lutheran, and Catholic religious traditions. These

themes are all structured in a form based on the prayers of the rosary (evidenced partly

by an interview that Schnittke had with Alexander Ivashkin)44. The rosary structure

highlights Schnittke’s fundamental commitment to Catholicism at this point in his life.

Yet the combination of all four themes at the symphony’s end represents his

acceptance of their basic unity. Dixon concludes that “The ending of the [Fourth

Symphony] demonstrates that the work’s multi-levelled stylistic heterogeneity is

intended to highlight deeper spiritual unities.”45

Jean-Benoit Tremblay’s 2007 dissertation takes a strongly narrative approach to

Schnittke’s Symphony No. 1, Moz-art à la Haydn, and Concerto Grosso No. 1. Tremblay

posits that when listeners are confronted with stylistic jumps they will “instinctively

attempt to resolve them by construction of a narrative.”46 Tremblay offers possible

readings for each piece, backed up by extensive study of Schnittke’s manuscripts,

43
Ibid., 158.
44
Schnittke, A Schnittke Reader, 47.
45
Dixon, “Polystylism as Dialogue,” 200.
46
Tremblay, “Polystylism and Narrative Potential in the Music of Alfred Schnittke,” ii.
16

letters, and other writings. Some of the readings are based on programmatic sketches

from Schnittke’s private collection while others are entirely of Tremblay’s own

construction. He extrapolates narrative explanations from the music’s many

quotations, allusions, and stylistic shifts.

For instance, in Symphony No. 1 Tremblay identifies nine stylistic features that

he says “need to be explained”.47 These features include popular music quotations,

allusions to jazz and Baroque music, excerpts of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, and a

dodecaphonic series that provides the basis for the third movement. Tremblay narrates

the piece as a struggle between the artist and the banal, each section representing

various battles. He says that whether “the composer had, or did not have, a program in

mind for the symphony at the time of composition is irrelevant. Listeners will feel the

need for one anyway.”48 There is some tension here between Tremblay’s manuscript

research and his focus on listener experience. The latter presents an intriguing

perspective on polystylistic interpretation while the former seems to privilege an

“official” interpretation based on a reconstruction of the composer’s intentions

through Tremblay’s access to Schnittke’s personal papers.

Ivana Medić’s two articles from 2008 and 2010 follow a similar strategy. Her first

from the journal New Sound argues that the various quotations and stylistic sections in

47
Ibid., 40.
48
Ibid., 75.
17

Schnittke’s First Symphony have narrative purpose.49 She says that this symphony

“expressed the composer’s protest against the devaluation of art and music.”50

Improvisatory sections follow more structured and tonal themes and thus, according to

Medić, depict Schnittke’s “frustration and resignation” at the state of contemporary

music. The final movement, which contains no improvisation or aleatoric music, is a

resolution of the tension from the previous movements as the artist overcomes “the

cacophonous sounds of everyday life.”51

Medić’s second article, published in Slavonica, is “I Believe… in What? Arvo

Pärt's and Alfred Schnittke's Polystylistic Credos.”52 Here she is concerned with

polystylism as an expression of religious faith for two Soviet composers. She discusses

the Credo movements from Schnittke’s Requiem (1975) and his Second Symphony

(1979), contrasting the two. In the Requiem she concludes that the layers create an

“eclectic synthesis” that does not contribute to the liturgical narrative.53 In the Credo

from Symphony No. 2 she connects various stylistic sections with the text. The only

movement based on a twelve-tone row corresponds in the text to Christ’s death. This

contrasts with his resurrection in a section of dense polyphony that “depicts people

running over one another in excitement.”54

49
Ivana Medić, “The Dramaturgical Function of the Improvisatory Segments of Form in Alfred
Schnittke’s First Symphony,” New Sound 32 (2008), 210.
50
Ibid., 220.
51
Ibid., 219.
52
Ivana Medić, “I Believe… in What? Arvo Pärt's and Alfred Schnittke's Polystylistic Credos,” Slavonica,
16/2 (Nov. 2010), 96-111.
53
Ibid., 104.
54
Ibid., 106.
18

Most recently, in line with Peterson’s work, Christopher Segall has approached

Schnittke from a more purely analytical perspective. His 2013 dissertation examines,

among other things, Schnittke’s use of major and minor triads in his atonal works. He

argues that Schnittke used triads in such a way as to intentionally avoid tonal function.

In looking at Schnittke’s music from 1974 to 1985, Segall identifies successions of triads

based on four neo-Riemannian relations. These include common roots with different

modes (P), third-related harmonies (R and L), and chords with a common third but

roots a semitone apart (SLIDE). Segall shows examples of these relationships in

Schnittke’s Hymn II, Requiem, and Piano Quintet. He says that his analysis “allows the

triads to be understood without recourse to ‘polystylism,’ a historicizing practice under

which Schnittke’s triads have typically been subsumed.”55

Elsewhere Segall follows the descriptive approach of Rice in studying Schnittke’s

use of musical cryptograms. This technique, which Schnittke used in more than a

dozen works, involves the encoding of names into notes, often of performers or

composers. For instance, in the piece Klingende Buchstaben (1988), Schnittke converts

the first name of his friend Alexander into the notes A, E, A, D, and E (using the

musical letters of the name only).56 He then used these ordered sets as the basis for

motivic material, often in a serial context.

55
Christopher Mark Segall, “Triadic Music in Twentieth-century Russia” (PhD diss., The City University
of New York, 2013), iv-v.
56
Christopher Mark Segall, “Klingende Buchstaben: Principles of Alfred Schnittke's Monogram
Technique,” The Journal of Musicology 30/2 (2013), 253.
19

Approaching Schnittke’s Music

Clearly there are different approaches to analyzing music that is so aesthetically

disjunct. The struggle of writing about twentieth-century music was addressed by

Robert Morgan in a 1977 article in which he identifies music that doesn’t fit into

traditional analytical frameworks: pieces with aspects of chance, improvisation,

serialism, quotation, and allusion. The scholar seems left to describe the surface of this

music in a way that is unsubstantial. Morgan says that “our whole notion of what

analysis is, or should be, may require rethinking.”57

J. Peter Burkholder’s answer is to create a typology for classifying musical

borrowing. He presents twelve ways that Charles Ives used existing music, stating that

“seen in the context of a long tradition of musical borrowing, his approaches can be

understood as continuing this tradition … building on rich precedent, rather than

breaking radically with the past.”58 His labels include common terms such as

“variations,” “paraphrase,” and “medley,” but also “patchwork,” “collage,” and

“cumulative setting.”59 Burkholder gives primary analytical significance to Ives’

quotations, which seems like an appropriate and insightful approach to the music. He

reveals the depth and breadth of Ives’s borrowing practices without resorting to

sweeping generalizations.

57
Robert P. Morgan, “On the Analysis of Music,” Critical Inquiry 4/1 (1977), 35.
58
J. Peter. Burkholder, “The Uses of Existing Music: Musical Borrowing as a Field,” Notes 50/3 (1994),
854.
59
J. Peter. Burkholder, All Made of Tunes: Charles Ives and the Uses of Musical Borrowing, Yale
University Press (2004), 3-4.
20

Catharine Losada’s approach to twentieth-century collage music is to focus on

connective musical material.6061 Her research shows the techniques by which

composers Luciano Berio, George Rochberg, and Bernd Alois Zimmerman made

“convincing links between disparate source materials.”62 These include overlap,

whereby a shared pitch or textural technique links disjunct elements; chromatic

insertion, meaning moments of newly composed, intense chromaticism that blur the

transition between quoted materials; and rhythmic plasticity, the technique of

matching tempo or rhythmic patterns to smooth transitions. Losada also names a

separate process called chromatic complementation in which various quotations and

motifs do not share pitch material but gradually fill up pitch or pitch-class space until it

is saturated.63 Losada finds unifying aspects in the repertoire but she is careful to

caution that “disjunction clearly constitutes one of the irreducible aesthetic dimensions

of these pieces.”64

I prefer to study Schnittke’s music through an historical perspective, as Schmelz

does in his extensive survey of Soviet music during the Thaw. My analysis considers

compositional strategies individually without relying on a unifying narrative unless

one is explicitly provided, as in The Glass Harmonica. When possible, I also situate

each technique in the context of music with which Schnittke would have been familiar.

60
Catherine Losada, “The Process of Modulation in Musical Collage,” Music Analysis (2008), 295-336.
61
Catherine Losada, “Between Modernism and Postmodernism: Strands of Continuity in Collage
Compositions by Rochberg, Berio, and Zimmermann,” Music Theory Spectrum (2009), 57-100.
62
Losada, “The Process of Modulation in Musical Collage,” 324.
63
Losada, “Between Modernism and Postmodernism,” 61-64.
64
Losada, “The Process of Modulation in Musical Collage,” 326.
21

Finally, I use Schnittke’s own terms, “quotation” and “allusion,” to categorize his

musical borrowing.

Although Schmelz does not engage in detailed analysis, his overall

characterization of Schnittke’s early music largely agrees with this thesis. That is, these

three pieces show evidence of a move away from serialism towards more aleatoric and

mimetic techniques.65 Nonetheless, I will nuance Schmelz’s comments on each piece.

In the second chapter, I offer a more specific interpretation of opposing styles in The

Glass Harmonica (1968), the transcendent and the grotesque, which correspond to very

distinct compositional strategies. The third chapter will contain an analysis of five

techniques in Serenade for Five Musicians (1968), of which dodecaphony is perhaps

more than just a “necessary crutch” for Schnittke.66 Finally, the fourth chapter focuses

on five techniques in Violin Sonata No. 2, Quasi Una Sonata (1968). While dodecaphony

is not extensive in this piece, motivic atonality based on the BACH motif does provide

another sort of systematic unification.

65
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 216-217.
66
Ibid., 251.
22

2. The Glass Harmonica

The Glass Harmonica (1968) opens with this caption:

Although the events of this film are of a fantastic character, its authors
would like to remind you of boundless greed, police terror, the
isolation and brutalisation of humans in modern bourgeois society.
Long ago a craftsman created a magical musical instrument, and called
it: The Glass Harmonica. The sound of the instrument inspired high
thoughts and fine actions. Once the craftsman came to a town whose
citizens were in thrall to a yellow devil.

The craftsman appears in the first scene, as shown in Example 2-1, waving his hand in

front of the shining “glass harmonica.” Music begins: celesta and organ playing a slow

chorale based on the B-A-C-H motive (B-flat, A, C, B-natural). A group of citizens stands

and listens. They appear in all shapes and sizes, some crudely drawn while others have

detailed, expressive faces. Red orbs float out from the instrument and one transforms

into a rose in the hands of a young man. Suddenly, though, the music stops and a low

brass call warns of a new character – the yellow devil (shown in Example 2-2). This

suited man takes the craftsman by the shoulder and leads him off down a darkened

street. The glass harmonica lays destroyed under the yellow devil’s feet.

There is no dialogue in The Glass Harmonica and the images change abruptly in

style and tone, leaving the narrative somewhat confusing. The film, in fact, was created

at the end of Khrushchev’s Thaw, a period from the 1950s to the mid-1960s when Soviet

censorship and repression was reversed. In her book, Soviet Animation and the Thaw

of the 1960s, Laura Pontieri traces the shift in Soviet animation during the 1960s. She
23

says that directors “departed from the fairy-tale worlds of Stalinist animation and

attempted to bring the audience in contact with a reality that had specific referents in

the Soviet Union under Khrushchev.”67

Example 2-1, The Craftsman, 2:24 in The Glass Harmonica

67
Laura Pontieri, Soviet Animation and the Thaw of the 1960s: Not Only for Children (Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 2012), 55.
24

Example 2-2, The Yellow Devil, 3:40 in The Glass Harmonica

The 20-minute film was conceived by director Andrei Khrzhanovsky in the mid

1960s with the help of several contemporary Russian artists, including Schnittke.68 The

group targeted an intellectual (and adult) audience through complex images and

symbols, many borrowed from famous works of art. Pontieri says that the film

“signified a rejection of the ‘official’ style that Disney represented during the Stalin

years.”69 Khrzhanovsky was, in effect, exploring the limits of the Thaw’s freedoms at a

time when the Thaw was ending. Khrushchev was replaced as Premier in late 1964 and

68
Ibid., 147.
69
Ibid., 148.
25

Leonid Brezhnev took over as General Secretary, ending many of the cultural and

political reforms.70

The artistic council at the Soyuzmultfilm studio in Moscow asked for multiple

rewrites of the script in order to make it more acceptable. Changes had to be made to

soften the tone of the film and remove any direct references to Russian life. The

council was also worried how audiences would interpret the many dark and disturbing

scenes. It was eventually shown once for a small audience and then banned until the

late 1980s.71 Part of the official misgiving about the film was due to its depiction of

satirically grotesque scenes and characters. The main antagonist is the yellow devil,

represented by a suited man with a bowler hat, black gloves, and mismatched eyes. He

serves as the governor of a bleak town. Khrzhanovsky situated the story as warning

against “boundless greed” but there is a secondary and counter-establishment reading

of authoritarianism versus the artist.72 In this case, the craftsman represents the

dissident artist in Russia, forced to struggle against a repressive government that keeps

citizens in a state of moral degradation.

Schmelz considers the musical opposition in The Glass Harmonica to be an

allegory with two clear sides: aleatory and serialism representing the “evils of

modernity” and the tonality of J. S. Bach as “the saving grace of tradition” and

70
Denis Kozluv and Eleonory Gilburd, The Thaw: Soviet Culture during the 1950s and 1960s, (University
of Toronto Press, 2014).
71
Pontieri, Soviet Animation, 167.
72
Pontieri, Soviet Animation, 149.
26

freedom.73 I find evidence for slightly more distinct themes in both the film’s narrative

and music: the transcendent and the grotesque. I will show how Schnittke’s

compositional choices complemented the film’s narrative through these themes.

Although the story in The Glass Harmonica is disjunct, it still has clear ideas,

characters, and plot points. Schnittke’s music functions as a representation of

transcendence and grotesqueness, enhancing the story.

Film Plot

The craftsman, holding a fantastical glass harmonica, gathers the town citizens

by the central clock tower. He plays his instrument but is interrupted and arrested by

the governor. An informant exposes a young man as one of the craftsman’s

sympathizers and is rewarded with a coin. One young boy watches in despair. The

townspeople dismantle the clock tower as commanded by the governor. Next, a couple

are shown fighting over money and turn into wild animals. The governor calls all the

citizens together but this time they have transformed into monstrous creatures that

dance and fight in a frenzy before exhausting themselves. Finally, the young man

appears with a new glass harmonica which transforms the citizens into beautiful

people. The governor is defeated by a young boy holding a rose and the citizens remake

their clock tower.

Example 2-3 shows my scene analysis of this film. Here I have indicated the

basic musical features and sound effects that correspond to plot elements. I have also

73
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 273.
27

classified the scenes into themes of the transcendent and the grotesque. The devilish

governor, the informant, and the corrupted citizens act out grotesqueness while the

craftsman, the young sympathizer, the little boy, and the rehabilitated citizens

represent transcendence and goodness. These characters have limited depth but are

also easy to categorize. The music alternates very clearly between the two major

themes.

Time Description Music and Sound Theme


Titles, images of faces, and Violin and sparse
the black hand with gold accompaniment, wind
00:00 coin echo sound effect Grotesque
Titles and image of GH
00:43 (glass harmonica) GH theme on celesta Transcendent
Images of dystopian city
and clock , mechanical Wind sound effect,
01:17 drum calls citizens together drum, other effects Grotesque
GH theme on celesta,
Craftsman stands at center organ, flute, and then
02:24 and plays GH vibraphone Transcendent
Sound effects of drum
Devil takes the craftsman beat, loud hits and
02:58 away percussion Grotesque
GH is destroyed, boy covers
eyes, a good man is taken
by the police after being Dissonant sound effects
03:25 accused by informant and warble, big beats Grotesque
GH theme with effects
Clock tower is dismantled, and mechanical noises,
04:16 citizens move like insects wind noise Grotesque
Boy left alone in open Rising gestures in
05:09 square, picks up rose woodwinds, GH theme Transcendent
Scene with the couple
fighting, animal Effects in perc,
transformations and instruments, electronic
05:33 monsters squeeks Grotesque
Drum beat starts by devil, Demonic march-type
08:44 calls everyone together with many effects Grotesque
28

Boy holding rose climbs Brass, strings, bells and


10:03 street towards the sun vibe Transcendent
Scene after the revel,
everyone asleep, various
10:34 transformations Various effects Grotesque
Butterfly awakes, people
11:26 awake grotesquely GH theme Transcendent
Sun shines at top of street,
young man returns with
GH, faces begin GH theme with counter-
12:29 transforming subject Transcendent
13:18 Society is transformed Baroque dance theme Transcendent
Redemption/transformation
14:28 of informant Dance Transcendent
Rising sequences in
15:34 People flying upwards music Transcendent
Statues, young musician
alone taken by devil, sad
16:34 faces, GH broken again Snake rattle, effects Grotesque
Boy picks up rose, devil
retreats, rose passes from
hand to hand, citizens Harp ostinato and
17:28 remake clock effects Transcendent
GH theme, ends on brass
18:38 Clock is complete chord Transcendent
19:13 Credits with images Dance music in winds Transcendent

Example 2-3, Scene analysis of The Glass Harmonica

The Transcendent

The protagonists in The Glass Harmonica fight the evils of authoritarianism and

greed. They do this through a process of transcendence: the ability to “go beyond,”

especially in a spiritual sense.74 The craftsman, for example, is able to transcend base

inclinations and inspire “high thoughts and fine actions” in corrupted citizens by

74
Ferdia J. Stone-Davis, Music and Transcendence, (Burlington: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2015), 1.
29

playing the glass harmonica. His music eventually succeeds in purifying the grotesque

forms and actions brought on by the governor. Schnittke’s music represents this idea

by referencing the music of J. S. Bach: a chorale tune using the BACH cryptogram and

Baroque-style dance that is consonant and tonal. Bach’s music came to signify

transcendent greatness after its resurgence in the nineteenth century. For instance, the

biographer Johann Nikolaus Forkel (1749 - 1818) said that Bach’s works could only be

mentioned “with a kind of holy worship.”75 Albert Schweitzer calls Bach’s Passions

“transfigured and made immortal by the spirit that breathes through them” and says

that “Bach is thus a terminal point. Nothing comes from him; everything merely leads

up to him.”76 More recently, the scholar Roger Scruton has connected the transcendent

with the experience “familiar from the world of chamber music and from the

instrumental works of Bach.”77

I will demonstrate the transcendent through reference to Bach in two scenes

from the film, one near the beginning and one at the end. My examples come from The

Glass Harmonica Suite, a 2003 arrangement by Frank Strobel.

The glass harmonica theme is shown in Example 2-4. It is first heard during the

opening titles and then again as played by the craftsman at 2:24 in the film. The citizens

are surrounding the musician and the theme is doubled by organ and celesta. The soft

75
Bruce Ellis Benson, “Creatio ex improvisatione: Chretien on the Call,” from Music and Transcendence,
(Burlington: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2015), 52.
76
Albert Schweitzer, J. S. Bach Volume I, trans. Ernest Newman, (New York: Dover Publications, Inc.,
1966), 3.
77
Roger Scruton, “Music and the Transcendental,” in Music and Transcendence, ed. Ferdia J. Stone-
Davis (Burlington: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2015), 83.
30

and bell-like ring of the celesta has an immediate connotation of godliness. The word

celesta, incidentally, comes from the French for “heavenly.” The organ contributes

sustain and perhaps also an association with the church.

The theme is in G minor and its harmony is strictly functional. The G in the bass

of the vii chord in measure 3 might either be a non-chord tone or the 9th of an F#9

chord. The harmonic rhythm of the passage speeds up in its second half and ends with

a V7-I cadence. The smooth voice leading and functional harmony would fit in a

Baroque chorale except for some strange doublings like the two leading tones in the D7

chord in measure 7.

In fact, Schnittke was making an obvious connection to Bach by incorporating

the letters of his name into this theme. The German note names for B-A-C-H are B-flat,

A, C, and B-natural. These notes appear in order in the top line of Example 2-4.

Example 2-4, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, I, mm. 1-9
31

As the craftsman plays his glass harmonica, red orbs float out from the

instrument and pass by the faces of many citizens. The meaning of these orbs is

unclear – they seem to somehow represent the goodness of the musician. A young boy

peeks out from the crowd (see Example 2-5) just as a new melody enters. Example 2-6

shows this lyrical section in the flute and vibraphone. The organ lightly holds harmony

underneath with I and V chords. The flute begins by outlining a G minor chord with the

addition of a colorful A-flat. The major seventh interval in the flute adds interest and

foreshadows dissonance to come.

One red orb floats towards a young man and as he touches it, it turns into a red

rose. During this process the vibraphone plays an ascending line that ends as the

young man smells the flower. This line is also simple and diatonic, passing through the

notes of a G chord and ending on a D6. The choice of flute and vibraphone seems to fit

the fleeting character of the red orbs. Suddenly, a brass dissonance erupts sforzando:

D, G, A-flat, and D-flat in the trombones and tuba. The yellow devil has come to take

away the craftsman and the young man.


32

Example 2-5, Young Boy in Crowd, 2:44 in The Glass Harmonica

Example 2-6, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, I, mm. 8-14
33

The second, extended depiction of transcendence in the film occurs near the

end after the young man returns with a new glass harmonica. He climbs down from a

staircase in the sky and plays the instrument, transforming the monstrous citizens

back into beautiful people. The citizens hold hands and walk together in a stately

courtyard as the dance theme from Example 2-7 is heard at 13:18.

This theme is in the same key and has an almost identical harmonic progression

to the glass harmonica theme. The last five measures follow a circle of fifths

progression: G to C to F to B-flat to E-flat and then ii-V-I. The flute is accompanied by

steady quarter notes in the strings. Here there also seems to be some connection to the

Baroque, perhaps a dance in 3 with heavy ornamentation in the graceful melody.

Example 2-7, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, II, 9-16

Depictions of refined life and happy people continue, surrounded by classical

architecture. There is one other interesting transformation. The crouched informant

who hoards gold decides to give his money and coat to a beggar, depicted in Example 2-

8. The music here (Example 2-9) is another variation on the glass harmonica
34

progression but now in the flutes and clarinets. This time the rising thirds signify the

informant’s moral redemption and physical transformation as he grows in height and

stands up tall.

Example 2-8, Transformation of informant, 14:31 in The Glass Harmonica

Example 2-9, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, II, 17-24
35

As demonstrated, all of Schnittke’s “pure” music has an unmistakable stylistic

affinity. It is always in 3/4 meter and the pulse is never hidden. The harmony is simple

and tonal and the voice leading conventional. Three of the previous examples even

have the same basic chord progression, only differing in melodic material and

instrumentation. Most of the melodic movement is stepwise, singable, and presented

in high instruments such as flute and celesta. These features contrast sharply with the

next theme.

The Grotesque

The yellow devil is obviously a source of evil in The Glass Harmonica. But this

evil distinctly represents itself with certain images: distorted humans, monsters, and

wild movement. Wolfgang Kayser’s book addresses what it means to be grotesque. He

traces the history of the term from its origins in Roman ornamentation to the paintings

of Bruegel, fiction of Kafka, and the modern surrealism of Dali. Kayser ultimately

declares that “the grotesque is the estranged world.”78 By this he means the ambiguous

way in which grotesque artwork seems like the natural world and yet is also totally

alienating. Kayser explains that “the grotesque instills fear of life rather than fear of

death.”79

The key feature of such visual art is the transformation of the human form into

something more animal-like. Literature similarly deals with absurd and horrifying

78
Wolfgang Kayser, The Grotesque in Art and Literature, trans. Ulrich Weisstein (Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1963), 184.
79
Ibid., 185.
36

transformations. Grotesque art often engages as a satirical device in opposition to

authority.80 Consequently, its use in The Glass Harmonica must have been particularly

troubling for the studio council. The film uses art styles that mimic pieces by Bosch,

Bruegel, and Arcimboldo, all known for their grotesque paintings.81 The frenzied scene

beginning at 8:44 features a whole range of animals, monsters, and half-human

creatures that run around in wild ways. This grotesqueness is almost the total opposite

of the optimism inherent in socialist realism. The director Khrzhanovsky was making a

political statement that was thinly disguised by his criticism of bourgeois greed.

But how does Schnittke’s music relate to the grotesque visuals in The Glass

Harmonica? Esti Sheinberg provides a good framework. Sheinberg says, “in the

musical grotesque, then, the exaggerations are often applied to anthropomorphic

sound-analogies, in accordance with a possible conceptual projection of the human

body on the soundscape.”82 Music that is comfortable for a particular listener or

performer in terms of range, pitch, speed, dynamics, and density will be considered

“human.” If a number of these factors are exaggerated or distorted then the music

becomes grotesque. Additionally, forms of music that can be described physically,

such as dances and marches, will become grotesque when they are similarly altered.83

80
Pontieri, Soviet Animation, 155.
81
Ibid., 150.
82
Esti Sheinberg, Irony, Satire, Parody and the Grotesque in the Music of Shostakovich (Burlington:
Ashgate, 2000), 211.
83
Ibid., 231.
37

The Glass Harmonica pairs Schnittke’s score with images that already have their

own meanings. But despite being directly associated with grotesque imagery, I will

show using Sheinberg’s definitions how Schnittke’s score embodies the grotesque in

purely musical terms in three scenes from the film.

First, an indoor scene at 5:32 portrays the house of a husband and wife who

were seen previously dismantling the clock tower. The wife is drawn with an

exaggeratedly long body. She walks in and must immediately prop up a broken table.

The husband sits down and looks through a keyhole to see the informant from the

beginning of the film with his hoard of gold. The husband gains extra pairs of eyes with

each look of astonishment at the money. Eventually one gold piece rolls free and

escapes through the keyhole to fall at the wife’s feet. She transforms into a

hippopotamus in front of her greedy husband. He attempts to attack her but then runs

away in fear. Finally, he transforms into a rhinoceros and charges into his wife, leaving

the room in disarray.

Schnittke’s music is closely synced with the action onscreen, sometimes even

acting as a series of instrumental sound effects. Examples 2-10 shows the short passage

in piccolo, xylophone, and piano as the table of objects and stolen clock tower parts

begins to tip. The piano triplet and xylophone glissando correspond to the exact

moment that the wife props up the table, shown in Example 2-11. The strings also enter

at the 2/4 bar on a sustained B-flat in all parts.


38

Example 2-10, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, III, mm. 92-93

Example 2-11, Couple at home, 5:48 in The Glass Harmonica


39

The accented piccolo A-flat6 is piercing, appearing near the top of the

instrument’s range. It is played simultaneously against an A-natural in the xylophone.

Here the player is asked to improvise the rhythm as the A is played faster and faster

into a tremolo. Then, the xylophone has a glissando downwards while the piano enters

on a 32nd-note triplet. The piano is not playing distinct pitches but rather chord clusters

that jump from three octaves down and then back up again. All three instruments are

at a dynamic of forte or fortissimo. Consequently, these two measures have extremes

of range, speed, dynamic, and dissonance.

The scene continues when the husband sits down at 5:49 and looks through the

keyhole. He watches in amazement as the informant opens a box of gold. The glittering

of coins corresponds to the beginning of Example 2-12. Here the woodwinds play

quickly-moving, chromatic lines in a quasi-canon with entrances staggered by a

sixteenth note. The pitches used are A-flat, G, F-sharp, F, and E, all in the same register

(A-flat5-E5). The strings also accompany with a sound mass that covers all 12 pitches,

each player on a different pitch.


40

Example 2-12, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, III, mm. 111-115

The woodwinds and strings create an extremely dense texture at a soft dynamic.

But it isn’t just random dissonance: A-flat is the defining pitch. Each line begins with
41

this note and the oboes hold it over the course of a few measures. The effect is of

hearing a high A-flat that dissolves into a buzzing flurry of chromatic lines. This

micropolyphonic mass is stratified above the more complete sound mass in the strings.

Visually, the grotesqueness of this scene is signified by the transformation of the

husband’s eyes from one pair to three as shown in Example 2-13. Musically, the

overlapping lines convey the same idea of “seeing double.” As the husband’s eyes

multiply, so do the woodwind parts. The saturated pitch space and rapid sixteenth-note

entrances convey a sense of uncomfortableness and a loss of perspective. The husband

has become greedy by seeing all of the informant’s gold. Just as the listener is

overwhelmed by the many voices, so is the husband overwhelmed by the corrupting

money.

Example 2-13, Husband’s eyes, 6:15 in The Glass Harmonica


42

The second grotesque scene begins abruptly at 8:44 after the husband and wife

finish fighting in their home. I call this scene a “frenzied revel.” The governor beats his

drum to assemble all the citizens of the town. All sorts of animals, humanoids, and

other creatures rush towards the central square, marching wildly. Once there,

everyone gathers and dances in front of a statue of a black hand holding a gold coin.

Some creatures chase each other while others fight. Much of the imagery is modeled

after the art of Lenica, Goya, and Bruegel.84 Example 2-14 shows the dance around the

statue.

Example 2-14, Citizens dance around statue, 9:35 in The Glass Harmonica

84
Pontieri, Soviet Animation, 150 and 165.
43

Bass drum and cymbal provide a constant 2/4 march beat at an allegro tempo.

The rest of the orchestra is heard sporadically with various figures and gestures. At

times it seems as if a coherent melody will develop but then this dissolves into

fragments. Example 2-15 contains a passage from 9:32 in the film during which a mass

of moving and unrecognizable creatures fall over each other in a quick burst. Next, an

assortment of dancers stand around a gigantic statue of a black hand holding a gold

coin. It seems as if the transformed citizens are worshipping the statue in some sort of

ceremony.

Example 2-15, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, III, mm. 329-331
44

At this moment, the piano is played by striking the string with a mallet, creating

a more percussive and less piano-like sound. The tenor saxophone has triplets and

then a high trill on a G-sharp. The clarinet plays a fast, chromatic descending line and

then an accented, triplet figure that ends with a two-octave leap. Notice the variety of

sound created by only five different instruments in the span of three measures. The

full range of both woodwinds is used and the dynamic is always loud, with the

saxophone ending on a glissando to a punched and sforzando B-flat.

The clarinet and saxophone do demonstrate a pitch class set relationship. The

trichords that begin in the saxophone are inversionally related and share the same

(014) prime form. The chromatic descending line in m. 330 emphasizes the half-step

interval contained in this set. The final triplet in the clarinet also contains the same

intervallic relationships.

Example 2-16 shows the solo violin and contrabass part with percussion from

9:43 in the same scene. The corresponding film images are of several stick-like dancers

moving up and down, including one man with two heads. A female figure without a

face dances in a large cage. Obviously, the strings are presenting some extremes of

range and quick oscillations between high and low notes. Here also, the (014) set

defines the music’s character. The contrabass leaps down from C-sharp to D and then

up from G to F-sharp. These major sevenths and those in the violin are contained

within the set (they invert to half steps). The final triplets in this example have slightly
45

different prime forms but do exhibit the same major seventh or minor second

intervals.

Example 2-16, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, III, mm. 341-346

An additional, interesting factor is how the metrical pulse is temporarily

undermined by these two parts. The C-sharp to D in the contrabass begins in sync with

the bass drum but then goes out of phase in its second and third iterations. For many

listeners the beat will be obscured. The violin has a quarter note triplet for three bars
46

which also conflicts with the percussion. Since a march is traditionally associated with

human movement, these moments of ambiguity in the meter may give the listener a

sense of unease.

The third grotesque scene in The Glass Harmonica begins at 12:29 when the

town’s citizens turn into beautiful people through the power of the new musician. This

young man, who appeared in the film’s opening, is seen climbing down a road from the

sky. He is carrying the glass harmonica and he walks to the tune of Schnittke’s theme

music for the film. The glass harmonica theme is recognizable from the one heard

previously, but unlike in the film’s beginning, it has been altered.

Various citizens’ faces appear: some are monstrous while others are made out of

fruit that resemble Arcimboldo paintings. Example 2-17 depicts one such citizen in a

window. The faces transform into beautiful humans, one by one. As each face changes,

the piano enters with a seven-note chord, shown in Example 2-18 with arrows. The

piano chords are jarring because they are accented loudly against the soft strings.

Additionally, they were not present in the same theme music earlier in the film.

These clusters contain the same pitches as the string chords below them but

with additional material. For instance, the cluster on the second beat of Example 18

shares F, A, and C with the strings but adds B-flat, D, E-flat, and G-flat. Notice how

similar the prime form of each cluster is. They all fit diatonically within the key of G

minor (when considering the G-flat as an enharmonic F-sharp). Each engulfs the

simpler F major, E-flat major, and D major harmonies of the glass harmonica theme.
47

The piano represents the last vestiges of a transformation away from the grotesque.

The dense and loud cluster chords give way to the melodious glass harmonica.

Example 2-17, Citizen’s face in a window, 13:13 in The Glass Harmonica


48

Example 2-18, Excerpt from The Glass Harmonica Suite, IV, mm. 51-53

Film Narrative and Polystylism

Schnittke’s polystylistic music for The Glass Harmonica complements the

disjunct plot and images. Two major themes in the narrative of the film, the

transcendent and the grotesque, are represented in different ways by the music. The

first communicates a sense of godly transcendence by referencing J. S. Bach – both by

appropriating aspects of Bach’s composition and by featuring the BACH cryptogram.

This music is tonal, metered, singable, and smooth. The theme of the grotesque is
49

represented by music that is inhuman in nature. At these moments, large leaps, loud

clusters, extremes of register, and other experimental procedures are prominent.

The relationship between modern and traditional compositional techniques is

simplistic but also has an extremely powerful effect on the musical narrative. The

contrast between tonality and atonality is not only one of consonance and dissonance.

The tonal moments directly reference Bach and when, for instance, the chorale is

repeated with added cluster chords, the listener can easily make a connection to a

process of transformation and transcendence.


50

3. Serenade

After The Glass Harmonica and very shortly before Violin Sonata No. 2,

Schnittke composed the 10-minute Serenade for clarinet, violin, contrabass,

percussion, and piano (1968). It was written for the clarinetist Lev Mikhailov and his

ensemble: violinist Alexander Mel’nikov, bassist Rustan Gabdulin, pianist Boris

Berman, and percussionist Mark Pekarsky.85 These musicians premiered the piece at a

festival for contemporary music in Vilnius and Kaunas, Lithuania.86 They also played it

several times in Moscow but only in small, closed venues where it would escape wider

attention.

The musicians found the work to be innovative, especially in the way it

incorporated short quotations from famous compositions. Boris Berman recollected

his experience in a 2001 interview with Peter Schmelz:

We rehearsed and we had great fun, and of course it also had a lot of
unusual stuff...First of all the first movement which was written in
these little blocks of snatches of music, and we could vary it, and of
course the snatches of music, it was all from Schnittke’s movie music.
And then there was also playing inside of the piano. And another thing
which was quite novel at that time were the sudden interruptions of
the music by little quotes from Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto [and]
Violin Concerto, the Sonata Pathetique of Beethoven, and Coq d’Or of
Rimsky. And the idea was these things are appearing for a very short
time and appear simultaneously, so the audience doesn’t really have
time to figure out what they hear, just something definitely, painfully

85
Peter Schmelz, Listening, Memory, and the Thaw: Unofficial Music and Society in the Soviet Union,
1956-1974, (PhD diss., University of California, Berkley, 2002), 545-546.
86
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 251.
51

familiar,...this was another kind of thing which I remember which


struck me as novel.87

Schnittke himself thought Serenade was a first step towards his Symphony No. 1. He

said that it was one of his “first polystylistic experiments, and in its technique…for

example the polyphony of tempos in the second movement…it already clearly

prepared the Symphony.”88

Serenade differs from Schnittke’s later polystylism in two substantial ways.

First, the piece’s triadic material is limited and never really exhibits extended tonal

function while his music after 1972 dwells on tonal mimicry. The Symphony No. 1, for

instance, is full of long (and short) tonal passages. The second movement begins with a

Handel-like concerto grosso, there are sections of waltz, can-can, and march music,

and the symphony ends with fourteen measures of Haydn’s “Farewell” symphony.89

Second, As mentioned earlier, Schnittke avoided these systemic approaches in his

composition after 1972.

Schmelz describes Serenade as a transitional piece that was a “bridge between

aleatory and polystylism that still contained serial moments.”90 He calls the

dodecaphony in Serenade a “crutch” that was necessary for Schnittke to help structure

his newly free use of aleatoric techniques, quotations, and allusions. Certainly the

piece features many aleatoric techniques and several distinct borrowings but the

87
Schmelz, “Listening, Memory, and the Thaw,” 547.
88
Dmitriy Shul’gin, Godi neizvestnosti Al 'freda Shnitke: besedis kompozitorom,
(Moscow: Deiovaya Liga, 1993), 49.
89
Tremblay, “Polystylism and Narrative Potential in the Music of Alfred Schnittke,” 42.
90
Schmelz, “Listening, Memory, and the Thaw,” 250-251.
52

dodecaphony in Serenade, while not strict, is more than simply a limited structural

device.

Example 3-1 shows five compositional techniques that I have identified in

Serenade: dodecaphony, temporal indeterminacy, pitch indeterminacy, quotation, and

stylistic allusion. In this chapter I will give an overview of Serenade and then focus on

individual techniques. I will show examples and offer comparisons to other music,

when appropriate. I do this in order to provide historical context for Schnittke’s

compositional practice. Finally, I will talk about the balance of techniques in Serenade.

Compositional Techniques Movements


Dodecaphony I, II, III
Temporal Indeterminacy I, III
Pitch Indeterminacy II, III
Quotation I, III
Stylistic Allusion III

Example 3-1, Chart of compositional techniques in Serenade

Overview of Serenade

Serenade’s first movement begins with a solo, fortississimo clarinet glissando

followed by the full ensemble in a clash of sounds. There is no discernable pulse and

each part is largely independent. Solo tubular bells intersperse the thick texture several

times before a short succession of statements from each instrument. The movement

ends with a final, loud block of fragments and then a fortissimo cluster on the bells

along with a high, pianissimo C#5 in the clarinet. This note is held out and slowly

crescendos into the next movement.


53

Movement two contrasts strongly with the first. It has a thin texture and a slow

tempo without meter. The clarinet plays throughout with piano accompaniment on a

variety of colorful effects. The other instruments enter sparingly for only a few

moments. The rhythmic density and dynamic increase and then subside before a final

crescendo into three, fff dissonant chords in the piano’s lower register.

The third movement is the longest and most varied. It begins with a short

introduction that alternates between bass drum with cymbal while the full ensemble

plays in between. Shortly thereafter, the pianist strums loudly up and down on the

piano strings. This creates a steady pulse, similar to the sound of brushes on a drum

set. The clarinet features prominently supported by a complementary violin line and

pizzicato bass.

This gives way to a quasi-return of the first movement’s fragments. The

instrumentalists enter one by one in a slow buildup of dynamic and texture. Eventually

a large climax is reached and the full ensemble continues to a short cadenza. The

cadenza begins with a solo in the tubular bells. This is followed by the full ensemble at

a soft dynamic accompanied by a constant drum beat. The texture eventually thins out

and the piece ends with a few notes from the contrabass and clarinet.

One: Dodecaphony

Dodecaphonic techniques appear in every movement of Serenade. As

mentioned in the first chapter, Nono’s 1964 visit inspired Schnittke to study twelve-tone

and serial procedures as seen in the music of Arnold Schoenberg, Anton Webern,
54

Alban Berg, Igor Stravinsky, Karlheinz Stockhausen, and Pierre Boulez. Although he

later rejected serial approaches, the influence of these composers is evident in

Serenade. Schnittke manipulates a single tone row in Serenade, sometimes building it

up in a process of near completion, sometimes juxtaposing complete transformations,

and sometimes incorporating rhythmic aspects. Example 3-2 shows the dodecaphonic

pitch materials that appear in the piece.

I 9 I 10 I 4 I 0 I 7 I 6 I 5 I 3 I 2 I 8 I 1 I 11

P 9 9 10 4 0 7 6 5 3 2 8 1 11 R 9

P 8 8 9 3 11 6 5 4 2 1 7 0 10 R 8

P 2 2 3 9 5 0 11 10 8 7 1 6 5 R 2

P 6 6 7 1 9 4 3 2 0 11 5 10 8 R 6

P 11 11 0 6 2 9 8 7 5 4 10 3 1 R 11

P 0 0 1 7 3 10 9 8 6 5 11 4 2 R 0

P 1 1 2 8 4 11 10 9 7 6 0 5 3 R 1

P 3 3 4 10 6 1 0 11 9 8 2 7 5 R 3

P 4 4 5 11 7 2 1 0 10 9 3 8 6 R 4

P 10 10 11 5 1 8 7 6 4 3 9 2 0 R 10

P 5 5 6 0 8 3 2 1 11 10 4 9 7 R 5

P 7 7 8 2 10 5 4 3 1 0 6 11 9 R 7

RI 9 RI 10 RI 4 RI 0 RI 7 RI 6 RI 5 RI 3 RI 2 RI 8 RI 1 RI 11

Example 3-2, Matrix showing all permutations of Serenade’s tone row

The Serenade twelve-tone row is introduced in the first movement in

progressively larger fragments played by the tubular bells. The row is emphasized

because the bell part consists of solo breaks from the ensemble. At these points, R. 2, 4,
55

6, 8, and 10, the music is marked “senza tempo” and forte or louder. The first

interjection at R. 2 consists of three long notes: B, C, and F# or [11, 0, 6]. The second at

R. 4 is five notes: [0, 1, 7, 3, 10]. The third is seven: [6, 7, 1, 9, 4, 3, 2]. Example 3-3 shows

the full buildup highlighted on a nonstandard matrix consisting of only the prime and

retrograde forms of the tone row.

Interjections Matrix (Prime and Retrograde Only)


P 11 P 0 P 6 P 2 P 9 P 8 P 7 P 5 P 4 P 10 P 3 P 1

First - R. 2 P 11 11 0 6 2 9 8 7 5 4 10 3 1 R 11

Second - R. 4 P 0 0 1 7 3 10 9 8 6 5 11 4 2 R 0

Third - R. 6 P 6 6 7 1 9 4 3 2 0 11 5 10 8 R 6

Fourth - R. 8 P 2 2 3 9 5 0 11 10 8 7 1 6 4 R 2

Fifth - R. 10 P 9 9 10 4 0 7 6 5 3 2 8 1 11 R 9

P 8 8 9 3 11 6 5 4 2 1 7 0 10 R 8

P 7 7 8 2 10 5 4 3 1 0 6 11 9 R 7

P 5 5 6 0 8 3 2 1 11 10 4 9 7 R 5

P 4 4 5 11 7 2 1 0 10 9 3 8 6 R 4

P 10 10 11 5 1 8 7 6 4 3 9 2 0 R 10

P 3 3 4 10 6 1 0 11 9 8 2 7 5 R 3

P 1 1 2 8 4 11 10 9 7 6 0 5 3 R 1

R 11 R 0 R 6 R 2 R 9 R 8 R 7 R 5 R 4 R 10 R 3 R 1

Example 3-3, Matrix showing row segments in Serenade

As Example 3-3 clarifies, each twelve-tone interjection begins (but does not

complete) a prime row from the matrix. The full statement of the row is revealed at

rehearsal number 10. Here, as circled in Example 3-4, the series consists of [9, 10, 4, 0,

7, 6, 5, 3, 2, 8, 1, 11] (including the pizz. B in the contrabass at R. 11). Notice in Example


56

3-3 how the first pitch class of each interjection (going down vertically) forms the

beginning of the P11 row [11, 0, 6, 2, 9, etc.] Additionally, the final pitch class of the full

series is 11, revealed at R. 11. These features show twelve-tone row manipulation and a

slow procedure of completion as the tone row is introduced.

Example 3-4, Serenade, Mvt. I, R. 10 and 11, row P9: [9,10,4,0,7,6,5,3,2,8,1,11]

Movement two even more strongly incorporates twelve-tone material. It begins

with a slow statement in the clarinet of the P1 Serenade twelve-tone row (same as from

the beginning), starting on C#. Example 3-5 shows the first two measures of movement

two with pitch class numbers above their corresponding notes in the clarinet. Notes

that are part of the row are circled in red.


57

Example 3-5, Serenade, Mvt. II, R. 1 and 2

Here the long notes are almost all part of the series with the exception of pitch

classes 10 and 7. The piano also mirrors many of these pitches. The grace notes

ornament the dodecaphonic melody. In the first measure especially, C# appears again

and again despite the series having progressed beyond that pitch class. The repetition

of C# as a momentary pitch center also demonstrates that the row is freely expressed.

Likewise, in later statements some row members are missing from otherwise complete

series.

After one full statement of the I4 (inverted) row form at R. 4, both parts increase

in rhythmic activity. The contrabass and violin enter and exit with short segments of

the series. Eventually the energy level builds to R. 5 where all parts trill on different

pitches. The clarinet continues with a dense and leaping line that is based on the P0

row transposition. The contrabass has an unrelated pizzicato chromatic rise and fall

while the piano plays a few sforzando [0, 1, 5, 6] chords. The final ff chords of the

movement are not dodecaphonic.


58

The clarinet, violin, and contrabass parts in the first measure of movement

three are shown in Example 3-6. Here the violin plays the P1 form of the Serenade

twelve-tone series and the clarinet has its retrograde. The contrabass is also playing a

twelve-tone aggregate but one that is a series of ascending perfect fourths. Chromatic

completion melodies like these appear sporadically throughout. Interestingly, at R. 22

the exact music from the beginning of movement one is repeated but this time without

the tubular bells and their row-based pitches.

Example 3-6, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 1

At the very end of the piece there is one last and more complex serial procedure.

The whole ensemble enters at R. 24 with a constant eighth-note pulse in the

percussion. The first note of each rhythmic group is a note from the P1 transposition of

the Serenade row: [1, 2, 8, 4, 11, 10, 9, 7, 6, 0, 5, 3]. In Example 3-7 the first four of these

pitch classes in the clarinet part are labeled. Each part begins on the C# and continues
59

the same series. The note heads with x’s are indicated to be played without pitch, as

seen in the clarinet. The other instruments have parts without note heads. The violin

and contrabass play with the back of their bows while the pianist strums rhythmically

on the inside of the piano.

Example 3-7, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 24

The serialism in this section is created through the combination of the twelve-

tone row with rhythmic groupings consisting of the same number of notes as the

current row pitch class. So, for instance, the series in the clarinet begins 1, 2, 8, and 4

and the motivic groupings begin with a single note, rests, and then two consecutive

notes, rests, and then eight, etc. The clarinet’s motivic grouping pattern matches its

pitch classes in this way but the other instruments have groupings based on other row

forms. The violin’s motivic grouping is an inversion of P1, the bass has a retrograde of

P1, and the piano has a retrograde inversion. All of these instruments play the same

pitch series P1, while the motivic grouping and rhythmic partitions depend upon other
60

formations of the P1 row, including inversion, retrograde, and retrograde inversion.

The actual note lengths are not serialized, only the number of notes in a grouping. The

movement ends after each instrument has played one full iteration through the twelve-

tone series P1 and its own assigned rhythmic series.

Although Schnittke was not writing strictly comprehensive twelve-tone music in

Serenade, the piece shows evidence of tone row completion as a compositional

process, various row transformations used as melodic material, and the extension of

matrix and row logic to condition motivic groupings and phrasing. The same row

appears as a unifying device throughout every movement.

Two: Temporal Indeterminacy

The second compositional technique, temporal indeterminacy, occurs in

movements I and III. The beginning of Serenade, as shown in Example 3-8, has a

distinct character. The music consist of fragments, delineated by brackets in the score.

Some are highly chromatic and linear, others have short repetitions, and some feature

triads and recognizable chord progressions. It is worth noting that a few are similar to

the “grotesque” music in The Glass Harmonica.


61

Example 3-8, Beginning of Serenade, Mvt. I, R. 1

The score contains instructions for performance. Schnittke indicates that “all

the instrumentalists play independently of one another.”91 The performers make short

pauses between the bracketed groups at their own discretion. The durations above

each fragment, given in seconds, indicate estimates of length. In Serenade, the

musicians continue from fragment to fragment until they hear the bells, beginning for

the first time at R. 2. At that point, they immediately cease to play. If a performer

reaches the end of their material before the bells enter then they begin again from the

first fragment. There is no tempo coordination between the parts and despite all being

in simple meter, no pulse emerges. Each performance will have a different sound

depending on the tempos and pause lengths chosen made by the performers.

91
Alfred Schnittke, Serenade (Wien: Universal Edition, 1972), 1.
62

A slightly different kind of temporal indeterminacy occurs midway through the

third movement of Serenade. Example 3-9 shows a series of fragments at R. 13 when

the dynamic has just reached mezzo forte. At R. 14 the contrabass enters and the music

becomes forte and louder. The technique here is a little different from that in

movement I: no tubular bell interruptions and no “looping” of units. Otherwise the

fragments have similar content and are connected by performer-determined pauses.

The first fragments are mostly stepwise but as the music progresses these give way to

more rapid single-note repetitions, glissandi, and trills (seen at R. 14). Eventually each

part contains similar material: large leaps, triplet rhythms, and dissonant, repeating

chords.

Example 3-9, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 13-14


63

One last example of temporal indeterminacy is shown in the tubular bells in

Example 3-10. Here the performer may determine both the length of pause between

fragments and the pitches played. Stem lengths of the notes implies a sort of relative

pitch but the score is marked “ad libitum.” Rhythmically, most of the measures contain

32nd note values with a couple triplets and 16th notes.

Example 3-10, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 23

Many twentieth-century composers experimented with indeterminate tempos

and pauses. Some even left the ordering of musical phrases up to the performer, such

as the mobile form in Stockhausen’s Klavierstück XI (1956).92 But Alan Hovhaness’s use

of temporal indeterminacy most closely matches Schnittke’s in Serenade. Example 3-11

demonstrates how a typical “senza misura” passage from Hovhaness’s 1959 Symphony

No. 6 works. Here each instrument has a repeated, independent part and each plays “at

his own individual speed.” Hovhaness employed this technique first in his Lousadzak

92
Paul Griffiths, “Aleatory,” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed
October 1, 2015.
64

of 1944 and then in many other pieces. The key characteristic of the procedure is that

short patterns occur in different parts without coordination of tempo.93

Example 3-11, Symphony No. 6, op. 173, Alan Hovhaness

93
Arnold Rosner and Vance Wolverton, “Hovhaness, Alan,” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online.
Oxford University Press, accessed March 23, 2015.
65

Three: Pitch Indeterminacy

Temporal indeterminacy gives each performance Serenade a substantial degree

of variance in terms of tempo and pause length. There is another aspect of chance

introduced in the piano at the beginning of movement II: pitch indeterminacy. See in

Example 3-12 how the treble piano line at R. 1 consists of a long, curved line. The score

instructs the pianist to play a soft tremolo with fingers on the piano strings. The pitch

contour is indicated graphically through the rise and fall of the line. This notation is

indeterminate because of its imprecision: the curves of the line do not fall on exact

pitches. The performer is left to interpret the exact pitches of the glissando.

Example 3-12, Serenade, Mvt. II, R. 1


66

Another occurrence appears at the end of the movement, shown in Example 3-

13. Here, the pianist scratches the strings with his or her fingernails in a back and forth

motion. Pitch is again indicated by a long line, but now in a saw tooth pattern. Could

Schnittke have notated this figure with traditional note heads and glissando lines?

Probably, but the graphic score leaves the decision of exact notes up to the performer

while giving a gestural representation of the relative range of the rising and falling

glissando.

Example 3-13, Serenade, Mvt. II, R. 6

One last instance of pitch indeterminacy is shown in the piano strumming in

Example 3-14. The performer is instructed to play a “rhythmical glissando (no pedal)

over the strings of the lower and lowest register” with any hard object.94 The middle

point of the two glissandi appears to be D3 but the exact upper and lower ranges aren’t

94
Alfred Schnittke, Serenade (Wien: Universal Edition, 1972), 8.
67

known. Additionally, the musician makes the choice of what kind of object to strum the

piano with.

Example 3-14, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 2-3

For comparison, see Example 3-15, which shows the same technique in

Penderecki’s Polymorphia from 1961. This piece for 48 strings is an early example of

the composer’s exploration of “noise as sound as music.”95 Penderecki pioneered many

of the practices for notating sound masses, clusters, and microtonal effects that

became popular in the second half of the 20th century. The graphical glissandi in

Serenade closely mirror the style from Polymorphia: single lines placed on a musical

staff. Additionally, other indeterminate practices such as missing note heads and

blocks of sound are shared between the two pieces. By composing music with

95
Peggy Monastra, “Krzysztof Penderecki’s Polymorphia and Fluorescences,” Music History from
Primary Sources: A Guide to the Moldenhauer Archives, ed. Jon Newsom and Alfred Mann (Washington:
Library of Congress, 2000), 1.
68

indeterminate pitch, Schnittke is putting his music in a dialogue with avant-garde,

sound-mass composition.

Example 3-15, Polymorphia, Penderecki, R. 11-12

Four: Quotation

Serenade features two prominent quotations from well-known pieces, both

identified in the Boris Berman quote: Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 and

Beethoven’s Sonata Pathétique.96 Both excerpts are very short and appear close to each

other in the third movement.

Examples 3-18 and 3-19 show that the first measure of R. 17 is a quotation from

m. 61 of the first movement of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1. The piano has

arpeggios upwards on a series of D-flat major chords. The other instruments also begin

playing triads, the violin on D major, the clarinet on E-flat major, and the contrabass

96
Schmelz, “Listening, Memory, and the Thaw,” 547.
69

on E major seven. Notice that only the piano is excerpted. The rest of the ensemble

plays a new accompaniment that, while triadic, strongly conflicts with the D-flat key of

the original.

Example 3-16, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 17


70

Example 3-17, Tchaikovsky, Piano Concerto No. 1, mm. 60-61, key of D-flat

The Beethoven quote occurs at R. 19 (Examples 3-20 and 3-21) in a three-

measure piano excerpt from the first movement of Piano Sonata No. 8, “Sonata

Pathétique.” The quotation is a version of the movement’s main motive as stated in

measure 136. Schnittke has paired the excerpt with his own accompaniment that

mirrors the diminished quality of the Beethoven chords but is also much more

chromatic than the original piece.


71

Example 3-18, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 19

Example 3-19, Beethoven, Piano Sonata No. 8, mm. 135-138

Both of these quotations occur during the return of the fragments that begin

Serenade. The fragmented section at the piece’s beginning included a series of tubular

bells interjections. This time, the two quotations take the place of the bells. While both
72

excerpts are tonal, Schnittke has written new accompaniments that effectively obscure

any tonal function by quickly progressing through all twelve pitch classes.

Five: Stylistic Allusion

The fifth technique is unique to the beginning of movement three: stylistic

allusion. The main style referenced at this moment is jazz music, or the style of music

originating in African American music of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.97 To be

more specific, I consider Serenade to exhibit modern jazz or bebop of the 1940s

because of its fast tempo and experimental nature.98 Nonetheless, the most distinct

characteristics of this style are common in almost all jazz music. These include a

percussive beat with a constant pulse, a walking bass line, and a syncopated solo

melody.

Referring back to Example 3-14, it is clear that the piano provides a constant

eighth-note pulse, acting like a bass drum and ride cymbal groove. This is the longest

section of music in Serenade that can be “tapped to” continuously. At the same time,

Example 3-14 shows how often the meter changes – back and forth between 3/4 and

2/4. Frequent changes, including to 1/4, 3/8, 7/8, and 9/8, continue until R. 6 when 2/4

prevails. Even when the metrical accent isn’t clear the percussion never loses its down

and up beat pattern as shown in Example 3-22. Here the placement of the sixteenth-

note cymbal hits do not agree with the 2/4 meter but the sense of pulse is never evaded.

97
Mervyn Cooke, Jazz, (London: Thames and Hudson, 1999), 47-50.
98
James Lincoln Collier, "Jazz (i)," The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz, 2nd ed., Ed. Barry Kernfeld, Grove
Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed February 8, 2016.
73

Example 3-20, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 7-8

Starting at R. 3 the contrabass begins a pizzicato series of regular eighth notes

that lasts for the rest of the section. This kind of “walking” line is common to many

types of jazz and generally features both stepwise motion and the freedom to depart

from the main harmony.99 Additionally, there is often a rise and fall contour. Example

3-23 contains a representative excerpt of the bass line from R. 5, midway through the

jazz section. The pitch collection here is actually quite limited in comparison to the

twelve-tone material in the clarinet. But despite not being highly chromatic, it is also

not diatonic. The real character of a walking bass is created by the constant rhythm

and timbre of the contrabass.

Example 3-21, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 5

The last jazz-like characteristic of this passage is the repeated syncopation in the

clarinet – functioning perhaps as a jazz soloist. In general, the clarinet avoids entering

99
Gunther Schuller, “Walking bass,” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press,
accessed November 12, 2015.
74

on a downbeat. Example 3-24 presents an excerpt from R. 6 in the movement. The line

is highly syncopated and placed in a high and prominent range in the texture. The

quick repetitions from G to A-flat simulate the sort of improvisatory character that a

jazz piece would have. When the violin enters (not shown) it places generally longer

notes as an accompaniment. Only when the clarinet drops out does the violinist receive

more melodic material.

Example 3-22, Serenade, Mvt. III, R. 6

Technical Balance in Serenade

The preceding analysis demonstrated the presence of five primary techniques in

Serenade: dodecaphony, temporal indeterminacy, pitch indeterminacy, quotation, and

stylistic allusion. A single tone row appears in all three movements but is also

manipulated in various ways, demonstrating that while not strict, dodecaphonic

techniques are integral to the piece. A number of passages are constructed to allow

independent tempos between the performers and pauses of unspecified length, both

processes of temporal indeterminacy. Pitch indeterminacy appears throughout

Serenade, often in the form of freely-drawn glissandi but also as various gestural

figures. Two tonal quotations stand out against the largely modern and atonal music
75

but because of length and context do not have real tonal function. Finally, a long

section in movement III exhibits three common stylistic characteristics of jazz music.

Considering the balance of these techniques it is clear that the twentieth century

dominates. Triadic fragments are few and short and always set against chromatic and

dissonant music in other parts. While this piece was written four years after Schnittke

negatively commented on dodecaphony,100 it does seem that he was still engaged

deeply with the technique.

100
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 244.
76

4. Violin Sonata No. 2 (Quasi Una Sonata)

Alfred Schnittke wrote his Violin Sonata No. 2 in 1968, not long after Serenade. It

was premiered on February 4th, 1969, in Kazan, then part of the Tatar Autonomous

Soviet Socialist Republic.101 Mark Lubotsky and Lyubov Yedlina, both friends of

Schnittke, played violin and piano respectively. In fact, the composer dedicated the

piece to the two when it was published several years later.102 Schnittke released an

orchestrated version in 1987, attesting to its popularity among his early works.

Violin Sonata No. 2 was well-received by the official Russian press. The critic

Marina Nest’yeva wrote in the 1970 edition of Sovetskaya Muzika that “the second

violin sonata by A. Schnittke is in our opinion a significant step on the evolutionary

path of the artistic consciousness of the composer.”103 The composer Yuriy Butsko said

that the piece demonstrated “new qualities of the personality of the composer” and it

marked a turning point away from Schnittke’s works of the middle 1960s in which he

“even lost for a time... the lapidary and emotional brightness of his early work.”104

The sonata has several notable motivic aspects. Foremost are the use of a

repeated G-minor chord and its alterations and the BACH (B-flat, A, C, B-natural)

motive in many forms. These two ideas are woven throughout what is an otherwise

101
Ibid., 255.
102
Dmitri Smirnov and Guy Stockton, “Marginalia quasi una Fantasia: On the Second Violin Sonata by
Alfred Schnittke,” Tempo New Series 220 (2002), 2.
103
Schmelz, “Listening, Memory, and the Thaw,” 554.
104
Ibid., 555.
77

highly heterogeneous piece. Violin Sonata No. 2 has a slightly greater emphasis on

triadic patterns than Serenade. Schnittke borrowed directly and indirectly from several

Romantic-era composers.105 This material is placed alongside or against various

aleatoric and atonal music. Much of Violin Sonata No. 2 is organized around particular

pitch collections, often highly chromatic and twelve-tone.

A clue to the form of Violin Sonata No. 2 is contained in its interesting subtitle:

“Quasi Una Sonata.” Most obviously, the title relates to Beethoven’s “Sonata quasi una

Fantasia,” (the Moonlight Sonata). This piece famously blurred the lines between

Classical period sonata form and a more improvisatory fantasy. As evidenced by his

own commentary, Schnittke was likely referring to Beethoven by using the words

“quasi una sonata” to indicate how his piece both used sonata form principles and

eroded them at the same time:

This piece is a borderline case of a sonata form. This form is


challenged and at the same time appears not to materialize—by then
the sonata is already over. It is like Fellini’s “8 ½.” The film sees itself
as a narrative on how difficult and impossible it is to make a film. And
they don’t make the film, but in the meantime the film has already
developed and come to exist. For me this sonata is so similar.106

Secondly, Paul Westwood has noted a connection to Theodor Adorno’s 1963

compilation of essays on modern music entitled “Quasi Una Fantasia.” Westwood

argues that Schnittke had read Adorno’s essay “Berg’s Discoveries in Compositional

105
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 254.
106
Alfred Schnittke, Alfred Schnittke Zum 60 Geburtstag: Eine Festschrift (Hamburg: Hans Sikorski,
1994), 118-19.
78

Technique” from the book, in which Adorno describes new composers as working in

“areas” instead of with themes and theme groups. The idea is that these modern

composers move from area to area without needing a specific plan, hierarchy, or logic.

Westwood thinks that the compositional impetus behind the Violin Sonata No. 2

perfectly exhibits these characteristics and Schnittke used the subtitle “Quasi una

Sonata” as an acknowledgment of or a response to Adorno.107

Schmelz says that Violin Sonata No. 2 is Schnittke’s most important piece from

the 1960s because of its expanded stylistic vocabulary and the degree of mimetic

content it contains.108 He describes the piece as inherently dramatic even though it has

no explicit program, partially because of the shared use of the BACH motif with The

Glass Harmonica. This is only somewhat true because the motif is actually

reharmonized and used much differently in Violin Sonata No. 2. Additionally, although

the piece features much less dodecaphony than Serenade, it is prominently unified by

transformations of the BACH pitches as a sort of motivic atonality. This process is

certainly quite free, but it is still a systematic procedure of pitch manipulation.

I have identified five primary compositional strategies in Quasi una Sonata:

dodecaphony, motivic atonality, pitch indeterminacy, quotation, and stylistic allusion.

Four of these are shared with Serenade while the other is new: motivic atonality. As in

107
Paul Westwood, “Schnittke’s Violin Sonata No. 2 as an Open Commentary on the Composition of
Modern Music,” Seeking the Soul: The Music of Alfred Schnittke, ed. George Odam (London: Guildhall
School of Music and Drama, 2002), 47.
108
Schmelz, Such Freedom, If Only Musical: Unofficial Soviet Music During the Thaw, 253.
79

the previous piece, the triadic aspects are confined to short quotations and distinct but

static patterns. In this chapter I will give a descriptive overview of the piece, analyze

excerpts representative of each of the five compositional strategies that I have

identified, and comment on the overall use of techniques.

Overview

Violin Sonata No. 2 has the same heterogeneous character as Serenade. Both

were composed in the same year (1968) and share a similar mix of surprising textural,

timbral, rhythmic, pitch, and dynamic changes. The piece begins with an sfff G-minor

chord and then a series of unmetered silences and outbursts. The silences are of

varying lengths and include rests, fermatas, commas, and notated pause durations.

The outbursts consist of dense, vertical chords and clusters along with a number of

short figures. At m. 45 the piano begins a semi-regular chromatic pattern in 2/4. The

violin plays leaping sevenths and other dissonant intervals beyond an octave.

The energy level lowers at m. 93 with the BACH motive harmonized with a

chorale-style piano accompaniment. This leads into a long section of violin glissandi

and series of single piano notes, both based on a twelve-tone row. The two instruments

play back-and-forth until the 2/4 rhythmic pattern returns, but now in the violin with

leaps in the piano. A long ad libitum passage of chromatic tremolos follows and then

develops into a slow, chromatic descent in the violin.

The chorale returns two more times, interspersed with quotations (Berg,

Beethoven, and Wagner) and other apparently freely-composed material based on the
80

BACH pitches. The music increases in dynamic and tempo at m. 313 with 16th and 32nd-

note chromatic lines. An fff G-minor chord in the piano punctures the chromaticism. It

is played once, later twice, five times, and then in a seemingly endless pounding (28

times and later 46 times). The violin continues above with rapid and dissonant 2nds,

7ths, 9ths, and their octave equivalents. Finally, at m. 373 the piano ends with a loud,

cluster chord. The violin finishes the piece with a cadenza-like solo and final statement

of the BACH pitches that die away in a long diminuendo.

One: Dodecaphony

Violin Sonata No. 2 contains a few prominent instances of twelve-tone

technique, though not with the frequency found in Serenade. The earlier piece

featured the same row and transformations in every movement. Most of Quasi una

Sonata’s dodecaphony appears in one main section in the piece and the row forms are

transformed but not extended to provide a logic for any process of completion or

additional rhythmic relationship. Other twelve-tone statements function more like

quotations because they are placed against unrelated material.

The longest section of dodecaphonic music is shown in Example 4-1: mm. 101-

120. I have annotated the score with the various row forms, red brackets used for the

violin and green for the piano. All of the pitch material is related except for the piano

right hand which contains 32nd-note groups in an extremely high register.

The violin begins a tone row with the C# after the senza tempo in m. 102 which I

label as the prime row, P1: [1, 11, 0, 10, 7, 9, 8, 6, 5, 2, 3, 4]. (Note that PC 11 is actually
81

missing in the music in this first statement). This is followed by an inversion of the

row, I4, then back to P1, and continuing through different prime and inversion forms.

Of special note is the fact that every statement overlaps by one pitch class with the

previous entry; perhaps to preserve this dovetailing only the P1, P10, I1, and I4 forms

are used.

The logic of the piano part is the same but with retrograde and retrograde-

inversions. It starts with the RI4 row: [1, 2, 3, 0, 11, 9, 8, 10, 7, 5, 6, 4] in m. 102 and is

followed by a chain of RI4, RI1, R1, and R10 row forms. See Example 4-2 for a clear

representation of which pitch classes appear in this passage. As the matrix makes

clear, the outermost rows that Schnittke uses lend themselves to the overlap of

common starting and ending pitch classes.

Measures 101-120 are unique in repeated statements of rows clearly derived

from the same matrix. Other instances in the piece are more akin to quotations. The

first of such begins right at m. 121, as shown in Example 4-3. This row bears almost no

relation to anything in the previous nineteen measures, except that it is also missing

the pitch class 11, shown in parenthesis. Interestingly, this row’s first four pitch classes

are a transposition of the BACH motive - [10, 9, 0, 11].


82

Example 4-1, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 101-120


83

I 1 I 11 I 0 I 10 I 7 I 9 I 8 I 6 I 5 I 2 I 3 I 4

P 1 1 11 0 10 7 9 8 6 5 2 3 4 R 1

P 3 3 1 2 0 9 11 10 8 7 4 5 6 R 3

P 2 2 0 1 11 8 10 9 7 6 3 4 5 R 2

P 4 4 2 3 1 10 0 11 9 8 5 6 7 R 4

P 7 7 5 6 4 1 3 2 0 11 8 9 10 R 7

P 5 5 3 4 2 11 1 0 10 9 6 7 8 R 5

P 6 6 4 5 3 0 2 1 11 10 7 8 9 R 6

P 8 8 6 7 5 2 4 3 1 0 9 10 11 R 8

P 9 9 7 8 6 3 5 4 2 1 10 11 0 R 9

P 0 0 10 11 9 6 8 7 5 4 1 2 3 R 0

P 11 11 9 10 8 5 7 6 4 3 0 1 2 R 11

P 10 10 8 9 7 4 6 5 3 2 11 0 1 R 10

RI 1 RI 11 RI 0 RI 10 RI 7 RI 9 RI 8 RI 6 RI 5 RI 2 RI 3 RI 4

Example 4-2, Violin Sonata No. 2, matrix used in mm. 101-120 highlighted

Example 4-3, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 121-124, violin part

As it turns out, there are two other twelve-tone statements later in the piece that

begin with the exact BACH pitches (B-flat, A, C, and B-natural). The first occurs at m.

196 as the top line in a chorale texture in the piano (discussed later). The second also

appears in the piano as staccato eighth notes at m. 214, shown in Example 4-4. Both of
84

these rows are transpositionally related to the one at measure 121.

Example 4-4, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 214-218

A final example of dodecaphony in Violin Sonata No. 2 is also a reference to

Berg’s Violin Concerto (1935). The pizzicato violin part in Example 4-5 contains this

rising line that mimics the first row statement at measure 15 in Berg’s piece. Example

4-6 shows the original part, also for solo violin. Obviously Schnittke’s quotation is much

altered from the original and is in fact not even a set of twelve unique pitch classes.

Nonetheless, its starting pitches, rising line, and chromatic character are compelling

evidence to connect the two pieces.


85

Example 4-5, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 236-238

Example 4-6, Berg, Violin Concerto, mm. 15-20, solo violin

Two: Motivic Atonality

I use the term motive atonality to refer to a type of freely atonal music that

features small motivic cells (pitch-class sets). This style of composition is associated

with the pre-twelve-tone music of Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern and also with other
86

composers such as Bartók, Ives, Stravinsky, and Varèse.109 Essentially, motivic atonality

involves the reoccurring appearance of pitch-class patterns that are neither tonal nor

dodecaphonic/serial.

Bela Bartók’s String Quartet No. 4 (1928) is a well-known and relevant example

of the use of motivic cells. This piece departs from traditional major and minor keys,

instead featuring both a high degree of chromaticism and the incorporation of whole-

tone, pentatonic, and octatonic scales.110 George Perle was the first to classify three

important motivic cells in Bartók’s string quartets, which he labeled x, y, and z and

organized according to prime form111 (shown in Example 4-7). Perle identified these

cells melodically and harmonically, appearing either individually or in combination.

For instance, Example 4-8 shows two instances of cell x at the beginning of String

Quartet No. 4. The motive is introduced both melodically and in a combination of two

voices.

Example 4-7, George Perle’s motivic cells in Bartók’s string quartets

109
Paul Lansky, et al., “Atonality,” Grove Music Online, Oxford University Press, accessed March 3, 2016.
110
Elliott Antokoletz, The Music of Béla Bartók: A Study of Tonality and Progression in Twentieth-
Century Music, (University of California Press, 1984), 138–203.
111
George Perle, “Symmetrical Formations in the String Quartets of Béla Bartók,” Music Review 16 (1955):
300-312.
87

Example 4-8, Cell x in Bartók, String Quartet No. 4, I, mm. 1-2112

Violin Sonata No. 2’s entirely chromatic BACH motive (B-flat, A, C, B-natural) is

also a member of the cell x (0123) set. Although the exact BACH pitch classes are

obviously important to create the acrostic reference to J.S. Bach, looking closely

through the piece reveals a considerable amount of pitch material based on more

generalized chromatic intervals of the (0123) tetrachord. The first instance of the set is

shown in Example 4-9, well before the BACH pitches are introduced. Together, the

chords contain pitch classes 8, 9, 10, and 11. The two minor ninths in the violin are

characteristic of the kind of dissonant expression that is a part of the (0123) set. The

set’s position is also important: at the beginning of the piece shortly after the

reoccurring G-minor triad. The set appears again at m. 96, now as a group of minor

seconds in the violin (Example 4-10). The D, E-flat, and C-sharp pairs hint at the

112
Miguel Roig-Francoli, Understanding Post-Tonal Music, (New York: McGraw-Hill Education, 2007), 45.
88

chromatic character of (0123) but the full set is not completed until the sounding of

pitch classes 4 and 5 in m. 98, where the motive is then stated twice.

Example 4-9, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 1-6

Example 4-10, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 96-98

Example 4-11 demonstrates an even more intense integration of (0123) into the

piece. This passage is from the beginning of a long and unmetered section featuring

back and forth statements between the violin and piano. Every gesture articulates a

(0123) cell. More interesting is the fact that only three sets are used: the BACH pitches,

the tetrachord transposed up four semitones (T4), and the one up eight semitones (T8).
89

In the example, I have indicated which sets use the actual BACH pitches and which are

related by transpositions. Notice that the three sets appear in an orderly cycle over and

over. There is some interesting balance here in that the intervals of transposition are

always the same. Therefore, the twelve-tone aggregate is generated after every third

set.

Example 4-11, Violin Sonata No. 2, beginning of m. 178


90

There are many more instances of the (0123) set in Violin Sonata No. 2. It is

seemingly the most pervasive idea in the piece. Its usage suggests a stylistic connection

to free atonal music, especially that by Bartók, that exhibits the same kind of motivic,

cell-based composition.

Three: Pitch Indeterminacy

Just as in Serenade, Violin Sonata No. 2 contains several types of indeterminate

notation, indicated by special graphics on the score and often with written

performance instructions. Example 4-12 shows two cluster chords at m. 14 in the

piano. The short cluster in the bass is followed by a high one between B-flat4 and A5.

The performer is directed to “gradually release keys of the cluster,” mirroring the

upward slope on the staff. This passage is unmetered and thus the rate of release and

exact range of the lower cluster is not specified.

Example 4-12, Violin Sonata No. 2, m. 14, piano


91

Another form of pitch indeterminacy is shown in Example 4-13. Here, in the

second half of m. 92 the violin is instructed to play a “free note progression

accelerating to the highest note.” The last eight pitches, with x note heads, are chosen

by the performer. The feathered, or sloping, beam of the note group is an indication of

accelerating note values (shorter and shorter).

Example 4-13, Violin Sonata No. 2, second half of m. 92

The freely curving glissandi from Serenade appear again in Quasi una Sonata

and, as pictured previously in Example 4-1, are even more prominent. Another similar

glissando at m. 124 ends a solo phrase. The piano drops out of the texture at m. 121 and

the dynamic reaches ppp as the violin plays a slow, chromatic line that extends to its

highest range. It ends with the faint glissando in Example 4-14 beginning on A#7 and

moving up and down before fading upward into nothingness.


92

Example 4-14, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 121-124

See Example 4-15 for one last and unusual indeterminate figure. The wave-like

drawing in the score is marked “ad libitum passage with both hands executing (in slow

alteration) a chromatic tremolo within the range of the cluster.” The music is scored in

four staves for piano and marked “Cadenza.” The extra staves are needed because the

tremolo reaches from the very top of the piano’s range to the very bottom. The hands

alternate while playing small clusters that glide up or down, following the path

indicated. The tremolo clusters begin again in the second system from the very highest

notes and ascend in nine little tremolo groups before a final ascent and fade to ppp.
93

Example 4-15, Violin Sonata No. 2, m. 179

Four: Quotation

There are two pseudo-quotations in Violin Sonata No. 2. Both have been altered

from their original source but are still recognizable. The first is a quotation from

Webern’s Symphony, op. 21.113 It occurs at m. 209 in Violin Sonata No. 2, as shown in

Example 4-16. Here the violin begins a fugue-like passage of constant eighth notes

which alternate in pairs of two minor seconds or major sevenths, thereby representing

113
Dmitri Smirnov and Guy Stockton, “Marginalia quasi una Fantasia: On the Second Violin Sonata by
Alfred Schnittke,” Tempo New Series 220 (2002): 10.
94

the BACH (0123) prime form. The original part, shown in Example 4-17, begins the

second variation of mvt. II in the French horn of Webern’s symphony. This line has the

same rhythm and alternation of interval pairs but the sevenths are not present and the

exact pitches are different.

Example 4-16, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 209-211,

Example 4-17, Webern, Symphony op. 21, Mvt. II, mm. 20-26
95

The second quotation is shown in Example 4-18 at m. 246 of Violin Sonata No.

2.114 These four measures, which repeat several times come from the beginning of

Beethoven’s Variations and Fugue in E-flat Major, op. 35., Example 4-19. The Schnittke

example contains the rhythm, dynamic, and repeated B-flat pitches but has an altered

bass. The new pitches, of course, make up the BACH cryptogram. These two quotations

are quite similar to their source material but each has been altered to incorporate

Schnittke’s BACH motive.

Example 4-18, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 246-249

Example 4-19, Beethoven, Variations and Fugue in E-flat Major, m. 9-12

114
Ibid., 4.
96

Stylistic Allusion

Violin Sonata No. 2 also includes several distinctive stylistic allusions. They

consist of the repeated G-minor chord and related chords, three chorale-style passages

that harmonize the BACH motive, and two measures in the style of Brahms.

The G-minor chord that begins the piece is shown in Example 4-20. This opening

is followed by another triadic but more dissonant polychord, Fm7 plus A-flatm7. Both

of these sonorities appear throughout Quasi una Sonata and always with the same

register, loud dynamic, and short duration. They are always played alone, often against

very atonal music and never placed in a traditional harmonic context. The only

development of the idea occurs at the end of the piece as shown in Example 4-21. Here

both chords are repeated in a seemingly endless succession while the violin plays

above with totally unrelated pitch material. If the G-minor chord can be heard as a

pitch center it is because of both sheer repetition and its prominent placement at the

beginning and end of the piece.


97

Example 4-20, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 1-7

In a sense then, the G-minor chord is a stylistic allusion to the tonal leitmotif.115

It is especially distinctive in comparison to the largely dissonant and atonal character

of the rest of Violin Sonata No. 2. Because the chord is rarely altered and isn’t used in a

functional way, it very much like the reoccurrence of leitmotif, which is traditionally

short and always recognizable.

115
Ibid., 4.
98

Example 4-21, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 322-333

As shown earlier, the BACH motive or its transpositions appears in many forms

throughout Violin Sonata No. 2. One of these is as the melody of a chorale-style

harmonization that is played by the piano at mm. 93, 196, and 205. Example 4-22
99

contains the second of these statements. The texture, slow tempo, smooth voice

leading, BACH motive, and G-minor chord recall The Glass Harmonica theme

(reprinted in Example 4-23).

Example 4-22, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 196-201

Example 4-23, The Glass Harmonica Suite, I, mm. 1-9


100

But despite these similarities, the Quasi una Sonata example is very different from

the film music. The first two chords in the right hand seem functional: G minor to D

major with added notes in the bass. The third chord, a D half-diminished seventh with G

bass, no longer makes sense in a traditional context. The passage continues with a series

of five-note chords all sharing the (01369) prime form and exhibiting chromatic voice

leading. From there the bass moves down, the soprano goes up, and there is a cadential

movement from D7 to G with added D-flat in the bass. This temporary sense of tonic

disappears when the melodic line continues to an A-flat and the bass jumps down to C

(also coinciding with the entrance of the violin).

The bass and soprano sound so complementary in this progression because they

are exact retrogrades of one another. In fact, both are twelve-tone rows. The inner voices

move almost entirely by step and often by half-step. The result is a clever and perhaps

ironic combination of the BACH motive, dodecaphony, and triadic part-writing within

the chorale texture. G is even implied as a pitch center, especially considering that the

violin lingers on the pitch in the next measure (not shown).

The last example of a stylistic allusion in Violin Sonata No. 2 is actually only two

measures long (Example 4-24). It’s a short progression at m. 257 that theorists such as

Valentina Kholopova and Christopher Segall have identified as being written in the style

of Brahms.116 The passage is internally tonal in the key of E, as shown by the roman

116
Christopher Mark Segall, “Triadic Music in Twentieth-century Russia,” (PhD diss., The City University
of New York, 2013), 15.
101

numerals below. But while the listener expects a very traditional elaborated dominant

to E in m. 259, instead they hear an abrupt change to Allegro fff and a dissonant BACH

motive. Consequently, the two measures are only a glimpse of functional tonality,

distorted almost as quickly as being heard.

Example 4-24, Violin Sonata No. 2, mm. 257-259

Technical Balance

I have identified five primary compositional techniques in Violin Sonata No. 2:

dodecaphony, motivic atonality, pitch indeterminacy, quotation, and stylistic allusion.

The dodecaphonic aspects involve one 20-measure passage based on row

transformations, three BACH rows including those used in the chorales, and a

reference to Berg’s Violin Concerto. The piece is also organized around the (0123) set,

the prime form of the BACH motive. This set can be found throughout in many unique
102

forms as demonstrated by a long passage at m. 178. Pitch indeterminacy in Violin

Sonata No. 2 makes each performance unique. Clusters, ad libitum sections, and

graphical glissandi are interpreted by the musicians. The piece contains two quotations

from Webern and Beethoven that have both been altered to feature the BACH pitches.

Finally, several stylistic allusions appear, including the motivic G-minor chord and its

alterations, three piano chorales, and a short reference to Brahms.

Obviously, the technical balance in Violin Sonata No. 2 is heavily weighted

towards the modern but there do seem to be more prominent quotations and allusions

than in Serenade. Perhaps most interesting, in the chorale-style passages Schnittke has

juxtaposed good, conventional voice leading with a dodecaphonic row based on Bach’s

name. The result is a chorale that masquerades as a chorale. Despite these references,

the systematic procedures of dodecaphony and especially motivic atonality are still

quite prominently woven into the piece.


103

5. Conclusion

The spectacle of Alfred Schnittke’s Symphony No. 1 has overshadowed his

earlier music. Although that piece may have “put polystylism into practice” the musical

heterogeneity of the symphony didn’t appear spontaneously. It was developed over

time through experimentation with different compositional strategies. And as

demonstrated in this thesis, the process was not necessarily a simple one.

The Glass Harmonica exhibited two, opposing themes: the transcendent and the

grotesque. The BACH chorale’s smooth voice leading and diatonic progression

reference the Baroque and the transcendence implied through J. S. Bach. On the other

hand, extremes of register, dissonance, dynamic, and tempo through the use of

modern techniques give the music a sense of inhumanness that complements the

grotesque imagery. When combined near the end of the film, the transformation

occurring in the story is mirrored in the music.

Serenade and Violin Sonata No. 2, although written at the same time as the film,

don’t have this same narrative relationship. The first piece contains five techniques:

dodecaphony, temporal indeterminacy, pitch indeterminacy, quotation, and stylistic

allusion. Each features prominently but the dodecaphony is particularly important in

unifying the piece and must be considered more than a structural tool. Quotations

from Tchaikovsky and Beethoven reference tonal music but are both set against
104

unrelated and highly chromatic passages. One distinctive stylistic allusion to jazz music

spans a large part of the third movement.

The Violin Sonata No. 2 has a slightly greater emphasis on quotation and

allusion although the modern techniques of dodecaphony, motivic atonality, and pitch

indeterminacy are still the most prominent. Motivic atonality, as seen through the

BACH motif, goes very far in unifying the piece by appearing in many different forms

throughout. The G-minor chord and its transpositions reference the tonal leitmotif.

Additionally, the BACH chorales, despite being tonally nonfunctional, create irony

through their combination of traditional voice leading and chorale rhythm with

dodecaphonic statements.

Schmelz’s characterization of Schnittke’s early polystylism as a gradual move

away from strict serialism towards a music of quotations, allusions, aleatoric

techniques, and tonal styles is correct as shown in these three pieces. A close study,

though, does reveal the extent to which dodecaphony, serialism, and motivic atonality

were still integral in the late 1960s. The Glass Harmonica, Serenade, and Violin Sonata

No. 2 provide a valuable context for Schnittke’s later works. They show evidence of all

the compositional strategies that he would employ in later pieces.


105

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