"Would not the attributing of The Imitation of Christ to Louis Ferdinand Céline or James Joyce be a sufficient renovation of its tenuous spiritual counsels?"
from Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote{1}
Imagination is a wonderful and yet mysterious attribute of being human. Artists who struggle to create original ideas enjoy a life full of invention, experimentation, and most importantly, imagination. Modern composers of music, such as George Rochberg, have often found it useful to borrow pre-existing music from themselves and others for use in their own works. Some recent critics have called this artistic practice a "moral transgression;" I would counter - can a composer really assert morality in a piece of music? While the scope of this issue is far too broad for our current discussion, the idea of musical borrowing does present the following, more manageable question: can a piece of music that contains borrowed elements still be considered an original creation?
The composer who is the locus classicus for the discussion of musical borrowing is George Friderick Handel. Sometime before 1698, Handel (1685-1759) began his musical studies with F.W. Zachow, an organist at the Liebfrauenkirche in Halle, Germany.{2} It has been suggested by modern scholars that this is the time when Handel began to borrow music from other composers.
In contrast to Handel, George Rochberg (1918 -) developed the practice of musical borrowing later in life. In the 1950's and 60's Rochberg's musical presence could be felt around the globe as a "serious" composer of 12-tone music. Why then, in 1965, did Rochberg (and several followers) suddenly turn to the borrowing of pre-existing music (and musical concepts) to further his own creative goals and ideas?
Clearly, both Handel and Rochberg served their own personal and musical needs when they borrowed from previously composed music, but the times that each composer inhabited were drastically different. Were the aims of these two composers similar? How have audiences from these very distant surroundings reacted to this practice? How far can a composer go without destroying his/her own identity? What actually constitutes borrowing, anyway? These are a few of the questions I will address in this brief examination and comparison of the meaning behind the musical borrowings of George Friderick Handel and George Rochberg.
· Taped excerpt No. 1 - Luciano Berio's "Sinfonia" (1968-9) Mvt 3 - 3'00" ·
The central movement of Luciano Berio's "Sinfonia" (1968-69) is a musical tapestry of quotations from Bach, Brahms, Schönberg, Stravinsky, Berg, Webern, himself, and others. All of these familiar fragments are bound together by the formal structure of Mahler's "Second Symphony" scherzo.{3} Berio comments with the following: ". . . these familiar objects and faces, set in new perspective, context and light, unexpectedly take on a new meaning."{4} What new meaning might Berio's context provide? Is there musical precedent for this practice?
In fact, the technique of musical borrowing is not new. It is well documented that J. S. Bach, Gluck, Vivaldi, Corelli, Albinoni, and Mozart (just to name a famous few) borrowed music from themselves and others.{5} Handel's close friend and early biographer, Johann Mattheson (1681-1764) speaks directly to this practice (as it relates to composers in the eighteenth century) in the second part of his "Der Vollkommene Capellmeister."
The widespread acceptance of this position held by composers during the eighteenth century is further confirmed by Paul Henry Lang in his book, George Frideric Handel.
Living in the twentieth century, it is hard for us to imagine a world where the free exchange of original ideas is acceptable. We jealously guard our creations with strict laws and regulations to insure that proper payment is made to its creator.
This is not to suggest that no effort was made to protect a composer's work from plagiarism in the eighteenth century. Because Handel's music enjoyed great popularity throughout his lifetime, publishers constantly struggled to prevent the illegal arranging, publication, and selling of his scores. In 1731 one of Handel's life-long rivals, Giovanni Battista Bononcini (1670-1747), faced charges, "that a madrigal he had submitted to the Academy of Ancient Music was actually by Lotti."{8} This accusation was never proven, but the event nearly destroyed Bononcini's professional reputation and credibility. Without the existence of modern publishing and recording devices, instances of plagiarism must have been very difficult to discover and prosecute.
It has been well documented that Handel consistently borrowed music from himself and others throughout his entire creative life. Exactly where these borrowings occur in Handel's output, and how much of the original material was actually used, are issues that are presently seeing plenty of intense debate. However, most of the music that Handel (and many other baroque composers) borrowed came from his own, previously published compositions. Many authors have claimed that "self borrowing" is a valid form of quotation; however, I disagree. How can an artist borrow what they themselves have created?
Perhaps the most apparent and complete occurrences of Handel's borrowing from other composers exists in his oratorio, "Israel in Egypt."{10} First performed in April of 1739, "Israel in Egypt" contains a fugue for chorus and orchestra that is identical to an earlier work by the composer Johann Kerl (1628-1693).{11} Appendix A - Example 1, shows a portion of Kerl's "Modulatio Organica super Magnificat" along with an excerpt from the eleventh movement of "Israel in Egypt" entitled, "Egypt was glad when they departed." Clearly, the two fugues are identical. Because Kerl's work was published in 1686 (when Handel was one year old) there can be no doubt that Handel is the not the original author.{12}
· Taped excerpt No. 2 - G. F. Handel's "Egypt was glad . . ." complete - 3'00" ·
"He spake the word" (another movement for chorus and orchestra) that appears earlier in the same oratorio contains similarly pirated musical material. This time, however, the original music is altered considerably. Handel has added a declamatory introduction for chorus alone, and then proceeded to copy the harmonic and antiphonal material of Alessandro Stradella's "Serenata." Stradella's original score consists of two relatively small orchestras that play alternating phrases of music.{13} An identical pattern in Handel's chorus is easily detected when compared with Stradella's score. There are brief moments when Handel strays from Stradella's harmonic structure, but overall, the parallel is quite clear.
While very little is known about Stradella's life, author Sedley Taylor claims that one of Stradella's last scores was performed during a wedding that occurred in 1681.{14} As Handel was born in 1685, there once again can be no doubt that Handel is the not the original author. In Appendix A - Example 2, the two scores in question are shown side-by-side for direct comparison.
· Taped excerpt No. 3 - G. F. Handel's "He spake . . ." complete - 2'00" ·
How did audiences and critics of the eighteenth century react to this (slightly altered) example of borrowing? Did they even realize that Handel was re-using music from other composers to this extreme extent? Considering the primary evidence that is currently available, it is clear that some critics were aware of the extent to which Handel borrowed. In the case of oratorios, operas, and other large works, most public audiences were not as informed as the critics. It was quite common for the score of any new work to remain unavailable for several years. Publishers were generally occupied with the production of scores for smaller chamber groups and for amateur private use. Furthermore, because the practice of borrowing was generally considered an acceptable part of the compositional process, many scholars (from the eighteenth century) felt Handel's frequent borrowing was justified. Others, however, expressed disdain and contempt.
After Thomas Busby defended Handel (1819) with the common argument that 'Handel always made what he borrowed better,' an angry and anonymous retort appeared in the Quarterly Musical Magazine and Review (1822):
In a more recent article from the Monthly Musical Record, (1956) Henry Raynor writes:
These primary examples represent a particularly harsh view of Handel's borrowing practices. As time passes, and we are more removed from Handel's age, it becomes increasingly difficult to judge accurately the ethical implications of such acts. For us in the twentieth century, it is commonplace that ideas are owned by their creator(s). With this attitude, why would composers of modern music (such as George Rochberg) find it desirable (and even necessary) to borrow pre-existing music? What has changed?
The early music of George Rochberg follows a clear and common path of influence for composers of his generation. A direct link to Paul Hindemith's "Mathis der Mahler" can be felt in Rochberg's "Symphony No. 1." Rochberg's early "Night Music" and "String Quartet No. 1" can be clearly shown to have deep roots in the music of Stravinsky and Bartok. In 1950, when he was 32 years of age, Rochberg received a Fulbright scholarship to Italy where he met his life-long friend and mentor, Luigi Dallapiccola.{17}
After many long and intense conversations with Dallapiccola, Rochberg began to feel a strong personal need to explore the technique of composing music using a strict system of twelve tones.{18} The bulk of Rochberg's musical output from 1952-1963 outlines the composer's development towards a mastery of these twelve-tone and early serial techniques, eventually culminating with the composition of his Second Symphony (1955-6). By 1955, Rochberg's serial music had clearly become an important presence that could be felt around the world.
In 1961, Rochberg's only son, Paul, fell ill with cancer. Paul struggled for three years, dying in 1964. This tragedy forced Rochberg to reconsider his musical thinking and move away from his animated, Expressionistic, Schönbergian influence. Through a personal and musical quest to deal with his son's tragic death, Rochberg had been led to create a new music of our time.
· Taped excerpt No. 4 - G. Rochberg's "Music for the Magic Theater " Mvt 2 - 4'00" ·
Appendix A - Example 3 (excerpt from original score)
The second movement of this work is framed around the structure of Mozart's "Divertimento, K. 287."{19} After the premiere of "Music for the Magic Theater " audiences and critics asked questions like: What was he doing? Was he simply trying to be different through a series of shocking juxtapositions? Did he think he could improve Mozart? Was this just a convenient way to "grab" attention in the 1960's?{20} The composer offers this explanation:
After much research that led him to study the physical biology of human beings, philosophy, and even the history of the modern computer, Rochberg came to the conclusion that at any given moment, the world is ultimately and unalterably bound together in creative thought.{22} Rochberg directly subscribes to the idea of a "collective unconscious" as described by Jorge Borges - a notable twentieth century poet and philosopher.
How have modern audiences and critics reacted to Rochberg's clear denial of highly structured, serial composition? Prominent music critic and author Alexander Ringer published the following in a 1966 edition of the Musical Quarterly.
If his widespread popularity and influence can be viewed as an indication of how audiences and other modern composers have reacted, it is safe to assert that the result of Rochberg's personal pursuit of a viable musical language has come in a much needed time. In 1985, Rochberg was presented the Gold Medal of Achievement of the Brandeis University Creative Arts Award which included the inscription:
A similar situation exists when a modern composer writes music 'in the style' of another composer - without direct quotation or musical borrowing. Such is the case with the third movement of Rochberg's Third String Quartet (1971-2). In reaction to the premiere performance of this work, music critic Donald Henahan (of the New York Times) writes, "Mr. Rochberg's quartet is - how did we used to put it? - beautiful."{26} Michael Walsh (of the San Francisco Examiner) stated:
Due to the complex, atonal language that constitutes our current musical climate, when a modern composer borrows or uses the language of tonal music, the audience is often very much aware. Because our modern musical language has been formed from Schönbergian principles of twelve-tone theory and modernist serial techniques, the context into which musical borrowings are often placed renders them immediately identifiable. This was simply not the case with Handel. Borrowed music could (and probably still does) remain unnoticed for centuries.
Rochberg's explanation for musical borrowing seems to be drastically different from what Handel's may have been - or is it? If indeed composers living in the eighteenth century thought about musical borrowing as Paul Henry Lang describes, we may be able to extend this idea to include concepts similar to Borges's "collective unconscious."
For composers to have openly accepted this attitude, a similar acknowledgment of the inevitable linking of all creative thought must have existed.
"Would not the attributing of The Imitation of Christ to Louis Ferdinand Céline or James Joyce be a sufficient renovation of its tenuous spiritual counsels?"{29} This question posed by Jorge Luis Borges reminds us that great art is truly timeless, but it also points us toward the various meanings taken on by a work depending on its context. I now turn to the words of George Rochberg:
Rochberg - List of Works
Rochberg - List of Recordings