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Anton Bruckner: Symphony No 9
in D minor WAB 109 The unfinished
Finale © Aart van der Wal, February 2006 |
“See, I have already
dedicated symphonies to two majesties, to poor King Ludwig and to our
illustrious Emperor, as the highest earthly majesty I recognise, and now I
dedicate my last work to the Majesty of all Majesties, to the dear Lord, and
hope that He will grant me sufficient time to complete it and mercifully
accept my gift. I therefore intend to introduce the Allelujah (probably
wanted to say Te Deum) of the second movement again in the Finale with
all power, in order that the symphony end with a song of praise to the dear
Lord.” [1] These were Bruckner’s
words to his physician Richard Heller, as they simply and convincingly efface
the strongly rooted tradition of performing the Ninth as an all-inclusive
three-movement body that should finally end with those very last murmuring
and utterly moving bars for horns and strings in the Adagio, the movement
that so clearly marks the ‘Farewell to life’, its motto appearing for the
first time in bar 29. Apart from the manuscript
of the Finale that Bruckner left to posterity, his words to Heller also
reveal that the Ninth was in no way intended and conceived solely from the
perspective of a musical concept. On the contrary, Bruckner’s unsurpassed
semantics were religiously driven, and he commissioned his last work at the
very peak of his creative powers to der liebe Gott. He must have known
it, as he shaped the symbolism in his ultimate artistic gestures. God is everywhere in the
Ninth, its ample indications demonstrating Bruckner’s devotion to and his
recognition of God’s majesty, in glorious moments of retrospection and
farewell, adoration and ecstasy, humbleness and absolution, but also the Last
Ordeal, Dies Irae, and the reality of the progressing shadows of
death, the course of life coming to its closing chapter. There can be no question
that Bruckner’s last Adagio contains the autobiographical elements anchored
in his strong religious belief, and therefore his reliance on God’s mercy in
the presence of death, a clear and outspoken artistic statement embedded in
the complexities of ambiguous harmonic progressions, strong and radically
symphonic, not just sanctuary by fits and starts. The great chorale in tubas
and horns bears Bruckner’s own description: ‘Farewell to life’, and in this
elusive hemisphere, without a completed Finale at hand, it is not hard to understand
why the long performance tradition confined Bruckner’s opus ultimum to
the first three movements, with the Adagio as the conclusive confirmation
that ‘all has been said’. Do we really need
Bruckner’s own words to Heller to feel and to comprehend what the composer
wanted to express in his last symphony? Not at all. We notice instantly that
this work delivers the gigantic forward thrust with its tremendous semantic
expansion of transcendental proportions, that the message reaches out to
metaphysical borders, and that we do not need extensive program notes and
exhaustive analysis to feel it all. This is the kind of music that has
the spiritual resources really to uplift us, as in all great music from a
great mind, be it, as in the case of the Ninth, in the familiar
three-movement version, or – as it is now gradually recognised – as a full
four movements symphony, as it should be. First
performance However, we should not
forget that Bruckner’s music had no fundamental part in Vienna’s musical
scene, with the mainstream of musicians and the public being indifferent or
even hostile to the composer’s creative output. Prominent critics like Eduard
Hanslick had their share in the long and ongoing battle, taking each and
every effort to condemn and to marginalise the modest composer, driving him
to breakdowns and stimulating this poor man without adequate self-assertion
to revise his works. Under these circumstances it was no less than the act of
a hero to take the Ninth to the concert hall and to lead the musician through
the hardship of long rehearsals to get the best out of them. This was
certainly one of Löwe’s great achievements, and despite our criticism we
should be grateful for his advocacy of Bruckner’s music, stubbornly knocking
and heading against a strongly biased environment. Löwe’s concert ended with
the Te Deum, which was performed after the interval as a solitary
work. In the program booklet, Löwe underlined that The Deum would be
played in the right place and order, in accordance with Bruckner’s wish. [2]
He did neither mention the changes he had made in the first three movements
nor did he show any substantial interest in what Bruckner had left of the
Finale. Many reviews of this performance
– and the interval must have played a part in this – did
not mention that the choral work was set in C major, instead of in
D major, the tonal scheme that should have concluded the D minor symphony
in all its splendour. Bruckner, although one of the great advocates
of formal tonality schemes, had indeed suggested that the Te Deum
would qualify to serve as the final movement for the symphony, failing
a better solution. His decision got some support from Max Kalbeck,
one of the leading Viennese critics, who persisted that after the
closing bars of the Adagio in E major, the following C major did not
sound better or worse compared to the usual D minor, and that there
was no reason whatsoever to confine to the formal tonal scheme, with
ample spiritual and esthetical arguments to left abandoning tonal
unity (of the classical scheme) in this particular case. This was
written clearly against the intentions of Löwe and Hirschfeld, who
both suggested the symphony should better be performed without the
Te Deum at all, and that Löwe followed Bruckner’s own suggestion
only with 'piety for the master's decision'. Hence the discussion
focused on the idea that Bruckner’s illness and death deprived him of the
opportunity to finish the work, that the Adagio was Bruckner’s real farewell
to the world, the heartfelt conclusion of his work on earth, and at the same
time the quite moving announcement of the transition from suffering to
transfiguration. Just from this perspective the soft drum roll that starts
the quirky Finale is hopelessly out of tune... The myth was created hundred
years ago and is still alive today, heartily joined by most great Bruckner
conductors and their compliant audiences. In that long history of
performing the Ninth, the three-movement version is always predominant.
Löwe’s voice still sounds: although the symphony remained unfinished, it does
not need to be finished. Or: the three movements say all that needs to be
said, period. The myth is a very long preserved one, even after Alfred Orel
had published a flow of so far unknown manuscript papers in his rather
chaotic edition prepared for the Bruckner Kritische Gesamtausgabe. Alfred
Orel In 1929 the Kritische
Bruckner-Gesamtausgabe (Complete Critical Bruckner Edition) was launched
and in 1934 Alfred Orel presented both the original score of the first three
movements of the Ninth, together with a study score containing drafts and
sketches of all four movements (Entwürfe und Skizzen). Orel did not
present a correct picture of the Finale manuscripts as already available at
that time (Nowak made instant corrections by hand on his copy after its
publication). The score was to appear in 1932 already, but the publisher,
Filser, collapsed. This turned out to be a good thing for Orel: the first
proofs for his edition contained almost no music for the Finale at all, but
then in 1931 Franz Schalk died, and Orel got access to the Finale manuscripts
through Schalk’s widow. That he would have to prepare the Finale material in
such a short time may explain some of his shortcomings. A substantial number of
sketch pages did not appear because Orel had no access or did not find them
worthwhile, but it was at least the first attempt to present the Finale to
scholars, performers and the public. Although a study score covering the
first three movements and The Deum had already been published by
Universal Edition in 1911, it did not carry much significance, as it was
solely based on Löwe’s edition for the first performance of the work in 1903
(The Te Deum remained untouched in the first print). The premiere
of the original three-movement version took place on 2 April 1932
in Munich, conducted by Siegmund von Hausegger. He conducted two consecutive
renditions of the Ninth. In the first he used the only existing printed
edition with its typical almost creamy Wagnerian 'soundscape', which
was far from Bruckner’s own manuscript. The second performance
was based on pre-copies of the new edition prepared for the Kritische
Gesamtausgabe. Hans Weisbach conducted the premiere of the Finale’s
exposition based on an edition arranged and edited by Fritz Oeser
on 12 October 1940 in Leipzig, at the beginning of the concert, just
before the first movement took off. Through the years Orel’s
1934 edition stimulated a mainstream of workshops, piano transcriptions,
orchestral schemes or attempts to complete the Finale (in chronological
order), but most of these (except ***) have lost their meaning in the course
of time:
One
finale, many arrangements All these editions, be it
performing versions or not, bear such a variety in approach and interpretation,
defensible or not, that it diminishes confidence in their artistic
validity; and even more so when public access to the original sources
is either restricted or impossible, with critical annotation
non-existent. Under the yoke of such wilfully created obscurity the
question of who is right and who is wrong has lost its meaning. Not
even professional music critics and performers take serious efforts to read
all underlying documentation, if available. They express their views without
knowing the facts and based on personal taste, preferences or dislike just
caught by the ear. This can hardly be stimulating for any editor spending
much time and efforts to explore Bruckner’s manuscripts in all their detailing.
There is always that basic discrepancy between scholarly craftsmanship and
unprofessional critical attitude. Bruckner's
illness In or out of
this context there was the kind of ‘catastrophist thinking’ in the early
1980’s based on the assumption that Bruckner had lost his faith from 1892
onwards. The musicologist Harry Halbreich, supported by his colleague Paul-Gilbert Langevin, assumed that
Bruckner’s almost daily prayer entries already broke off in 1892, suggesting
that Bruckner had lost his faith and consequentially his main incentive to
complete the Finale. Whatever it was worth, it became a non-issue anyway when
a decade later Elisabeth
Maier of the International Bruckner Institute in Linz revealed that at least
a portion of Bruckner’s prayer entries had been recovered, including those
which Bruckner had written down after 1892, and even on the day before
his death. [5] In March 1890, nearly 2½
years after he had started to compose the Ninth, and five years before he
took up the Finale, Bruckner’s doctors diagnosed chronic throat and larynx
catarrh together with severe symptoms of nervousness. On 1 July 1892 arterial
sclerosis, hepatitis and diabetes were diagnosed (the latter factually a
death sentence). In January/February 1893, Bruckner suffered from dropsy
while working on the Scherzo movement, but after instant surgery his
condition quickly improved. Nevertheless, his general physical condition
remained to be so worrisome that on 24 March the last sacraments were
administered. He gradually recovered, but the planned reception to mark his
birthday, on 4 September 1894 in Steyer, had to be cancelled. After having completed
the Adagio – which took him great pains and effort – on
30 November 1894 he fell seriously ill again and on 9 December last
sacraments were administered for the second time. At Christmas he
was able to play on the organ in the monastery of Klosterneuburg,
but on his way back to Vienna he suffered a pleurisy attack again,
fulminating into pneumonia the very next month. The resulting shortness
of breath made it impossible to ascend the stairs of his home in the
Heßgasse in Vienna. In February Anton Meißner asked the Count Liechtenstein
to provide new quarters without stairs for his master. On 4 July (1895)
Bruckner moved to the Kustodenstockl (lodge) at the Belvedere
estate, where he would remain until his death.
Between
start and finish Then, there the moral
issue might be raised, in the sense that we should not touch a work heavily
interrupted by sickness and finally stopped by death. It was not completed,
Bruckner might have severely encroached it later on (although he did not so
with the Fifth, Sixth and Seventh), or might even have drastically changed
the overall concept he originally had in his mind (very unlikely), provided
he would have lived long enough. The musicologists
Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs and John Alan Phillips have strongly argued that
straight from the very beginning, Bruckner maintained a broad perspective of
the schematic form, with less focus on the material that needed to be supplemented
later. [4] From the outset he drafted all elements on basis of the conceptual
form he already had clearly in his mind, and their individual position in the
score in coherence with both the preceding and subsequent sections as well as
the overall structure of the work. In later revisions, small or large, it
therefore sufficed to enter just symbols or markings in shorthand. This
methodology reveals indeed that he had a very clear picture of the work’s
architecture as a whole. In short, Bruckner knew what he was heading for,
although all his manuscripts show that he did not have Mozart’s congenial
ability just to write down what he had in mind, without much alteration.
Bruckner’s manuscripts commonly betray – like for instance Beethoven’s – a
long and difficult struggle. Whatever the arguments
pro or contra reconstructing an unfinished, fragmented musical score, the
bare fact is and remains that professional, meticulous and foremost
respectful, musicological approach may produce stunning results. And let us
be fair: no one can work on such a painstakingly prepared project, which
involves many years of intensive labour at high cost, without great love for
Bruckner’s music. Bruckner's
methodology
The final stage contained
polishing such as phrasing, articulation, dynamics and last changes. These were the basics of
Bruckner’s workmanship from the Eighth symphony onwards, with a variety of
overlaps when the composer worked his way through from section to section,
designing further particello sketches and exchanging bifolios or sheets. The scoring in the second
stage comprised subsequent bifolios (double-folded sheets) with the first
page consecutively numbered in the upper right corner. Meißner had prepared
these pages with bar lines, indication of instruments, keys and clefs so that
the composer could write down the notes instantly. When working on
substantial revisions the existing bifolios were simply replaced by new ones.
Clean score sheets were used when existing sheets had been severely
compromised by heavy corrections. In many cases no distinction can be made
between completed sketches and final notation (Reinschrift). Phillips
adequately characterised the numbered score pages (including the continuity
drafts) in their final, although incomplete shape as an ‘emerging autograph
score’. Deciphering Bruckner’s
sketch material is hampered by the quality of the paper and the use
of glue and ink. Also, many sketches are scribbled with light pencil
strokes or the handwriting obscured by the composer’s unsteady
physical condition. Nevertheless it is astounding that age, severe
health problems and consequentially his physical weakness did not
affect Bruckner’s capacity to design long stretches in an accurate
and secure fashion. Philological investigation revealed that even
his serious pneumonia in July 1896 did not deprive him of his abilities,
and at least a few months prior to his death he was at intervals still
able to demonstrate all his skills as a composer. His strict and straightforward
working methods did not leave him until the final moment that he was
no longer able to work.
Phillips ascertained that
for the Finale Bruckner used a variety of six different types and formats of
paper, but mainly the upright format with 24 systems from his publisher Josef
Eberle in Vienna (‘JE & Co., No 8./24 linig’). By verifying
these papers with the composer’s entries it was fairly easy to establish
which papers had been taken first (and last!) from the pile. Incidental
inconsistencies in Meißner’s prefixes on the score sheets he had prepared for
his master, and the use of different paper do not resemble different versions
Bruckner was working on (Orel was definitely wrong here). On the contrary,
also these various paper types appeared to be an important factor in
determining Bruckner’s genesis and chronology of composition. Bruckner’s remark on a
calendar shows that he started working on the Finale on 24 May 1895. It had
been a long way, from the first ideas written down for the opening movement
of the symphony, on 12 August 1887, two days after the completion of the
first version of the C minor symphony. In October he got the news that not only
the conductor Hermann Levi but also the two Schalk brothers had rejected it,
which led to a deep mental crisis and subsequently to the second version of
the work. He also undertook revisions on his First, Third and Fourth
symphonies, at the same time continuing to work on the Ninth. New works were
also composed: Helgoland, Psalm 150, Das deutsche Lied, Träumen
und Wachen and Vexilla regis. The first movement of the
Ninth was completed on 23 December 1893, the beginning of which must have
commenced in an early stage in full score already. The exposition part was
repeatedly redesigned as the composition process progressed. Bruckner
finished the Scherzo with the final (third) Trio on 15 February 1894, and the
Adagio – which took him great pains and effort – on 30 November. Investigations by Samale,
Cohrs and Phillips [4] revealed the following chronology:
It is likely that
Bruckner finished the primary stage of the instrumentation in this period,
with the main strings, woodwinds and brass lines noted down in his customary
shorthand-writing. We can distil this from the available bifolios (including
the continuity drafts or Satzverlaufsentwürfe) and his method of
transferring the sketches directly to the score. At the time of Bruckner’s
death, a total number of at least 40 bifolios containing more than 600 bars
of music, must have existed (according to Cohrs and Phillips). Both the
exposition and large portions of the development section had been fully
completed. Bruckner completed 206
(208) fully instrumented bars and 224 bars with strings and shorthand notes
for woodwinds and brass. Furthermore, we have continuity drafts (Satzverlaufsentwürfe)
of 122 bars. No such sketches survived of 111 bars, thus the music needed to
be construed from both original (68 bars, by sequence, transposition,
1:1 repetition and adaptation) and free material (43 bars), all
together about 17% of the Finale, or about 4 minutes of music. This all makes
a total of 663 plus 2 optional bars The Facsimile Edition
also offers the closest approach to Bruckner’s overall concept of the Finale,
and although they are his last ‘words’ on paper, we need to realise that they
reflect his work in progress without the possibility to conclude it. Nothing
in there can therefore be considered as final, not even the fully scored and
instrumented portions, with passages either boldly overwritten or cut, pasted
and glued. Thus, we will never be able to grasp whether he had later on
revised the Finale, or even the entire work, more or less. We deal with what
is left, and it is of no use whatsoever to start speculating about what is
not there. However, one should consider that already the surviving material
contains numerous revisions and working phases, for instance, the first theme
group survived in at least six different phases. Hence it seems to be
appropriate to assume that Bruckner at least came to a more or less ‘final’
structure of the piece as such. Cohrs and Samale give a
full outline of their considerations and decisions in their Main Features
of the New Edition by Samale and Cohrs (SC 2004), with the inclusion of
tempi, instrumentation, dynamics, phrasing and articulation. Carragan Carragan
conceived his version of the Finale in 1979, and orchestrated it in 1983,
with a minor revision in 1985. The premiere took place in Carnegie Hall in
New York on 8 January 1984, conducted by Moshe Atzmon. The European premiere
was launched in April 1985 in Utrecht, the Netherlands, by the Utrecht
Symphony Orchestra conducted by Hubert Soudant. In 1986 the symphony was
performed at St. Florian, bringing this music almost symbolically back home. After its New
York premiere Carragan’s edition carried great impact in all main musical
circles, and it put the Finale as a performing version for the first time on
the map (although Ernst Märzendorfer had performed his edition of 670 bars
already in 1969). This even accelerated after the first recording was released
(Oslo Philharmonic conducted by Yoav Talmi, 1985, Chandos CD 7051-2). Carragan's
completion was also highly admired by reputed Bruckner scholars such as Ben
Korstvedt and Alan Crawford Howie (UK) and Dermot Gault (Ireland), but not
everyone was enthusiastic. After the release of that recording the well-known
music critic Dietmar Holland questioned in Neue Musik Zeitschrift (May
1987) the real benefit of hearing Bruckner's sketched music without the
presentation of any critical annotation by Carragan, whereas the original
sources were not accessible (at that time). He also noted a 'Salto mortale in
die Welt des Richard Strauss und am Ende gar der Filmmusik Hollywoods [...],
daß einem schier die Spucke wegbleibt'. [3] Carragan
definitely presented his work as a completed version and not as a reconstruction,
for performance purposes. He had studied the manuscripts in Vienna, had
photographs of inaccessible parts at his disposal, and was - while working
his way through the manuscripts - able to correct most of the errors in the
Orel edition and beyond. There
were discussions along the road, and particularly in Europe, about Carragan's
rather flexible approach to the original score by introducing bars of his
own, and most of all his long insertion connecting the Finale’s second and
third theme groups in the recapitulation that also marks the point where he
brings back the theme of the Adagio. He was of course aware of the problem at
that time, but he felt he needed that insertion for structural reasons, longer
than the 16 measures for which the numbering seemed to provide. Before
applying the 16-measure straitjacket instead he needed to be really sure that
the numbering was correct and contemporaneous. At that time Carragan assessed
the available sources, and noticed that the numbers on many of the source’s
bifolios were heavily overwritten and the actual numbers themselves were
highly debatable over a wide range. Also many of the early numbers, and
perhaps some of the later ones too, appeared not to be contemporaneous.
However, he may not have realised that Bruckner simply used mainly discarded
bifolios as sketch paper, sometimes including the continuity of more than one
bifolio. It might also have helped when he would have used Bruckner's own
metric figures. He
filled the gaps in the song period (Gesangsperiode) with only 8 bars,
and at the end of the exposition section he entered 8 bars into the last
preserved bifolio 12C (pages 205-208 in the facsimile edition) originating
from Bruckner's later adaptation, adding to this the last 6 bars of 12C. He
introduced 50 bars of his own at the end of the reprise of the song period,
from bar 481, although only one sheet appeared to be missing. These 50 bars
were based on Bruckner's own material from the exposition section, but they
simply did not sit well in their new frame. Carragan
also entered 143 bars - although partially based on Bruckner's material - to
bring the symphony to an aurally convincing end, but overlooking that his
predecessor, Orel, had erroneously defined a bifolio as '21. Bg. E', which
was in fact part of the chorale reprise, with bifolio 31 (16 bars) just
missing. Carragan also used bifolio 32 in his edition's coda (bar 673-688),
although it was not part of the choral reprise. However, he was the first
musicologist to recognise the importance of the particello drafts of the
coda. So all
in all, Carragan’s edition sounds quite impressive, although it contained
about 230 bars of his own, and paradoxically without utilising all of the
substantial material Bruckner had left. It proved to be a hallmark leaving a
great impression on the audience. In this respect, I only recall the
performances in the Netherlands, on 14 April 1985 (Amsterdam, Concertgebouw),
16 April 1985 (Utrecht, Vredenburg), and 26–31 January 1987 (Hilversum, radio
studio). See
also: http://www.opusklassiek.nl/componisten/bruckner_symphony_9_finale_wc_spcm.pdf Nowak In the wake
of his death, Nowak (Herbert Vogg would be his successor) had seriously
reconsidered his long-standing resentments, he had made his checks and
balances and he decided that Phillips should now go on with the project of
the Ninth, but to withhold publication until after still missing parts had
been traced. That was
Nowak’s basic idea, Phillips to take up the task of revising and Orel's Sketches
and drafts for the Ninth (1934) and not the corrected 1951 reprint, a
project that Nowak had originally planned until after finalising the Kritische
Gesamtausgabe (Cohrs would prepare a new annotated edition of the first
three movements). The final outcome should be in line with Nowak’s principal goal
that all of Bruckner's compositions be made available in
transparent and reliable musical editions. The accompanying critical reports
were to be scientific but nevertheless comprehensive and suitable and
attainable for use in musical practice. Phillips From the
outset it was clear to him that even without Bruckner’s dedication to ‘the
dear Lord’ the work contains the religious semantics, which creates the
music’s transcendental atmosphere and evokes the metaphysical tendency in
most if not all interpretations. Apart from formal and hermeneutic
considerations the term ‘absolute music’ fails to comply with what this
symphony is really all about. It became
also clear to Phillips that the overall structural coherence of the Finale
fragment was not in question and that its specific elements were based on
virtually the same melodic and structural components as in Bruckner’s last
choral works (Psalm 150, Vexilla Regis, Das deutsche Lied and Helgoland),
and – most important – in the preceding three movements of the Ninth. This
symphony offers a striking resemblance with the Fifth, both heading toward a
huge Finale, which combines sonata, fugue and choral forms. The Ninth’s
Finale – and this can be unquestionably distilled from the fragments – delivers
at last (sec) the full structural stability for the entire work, radically
and profoundly, its melodic and harmonic ambiguities coming close to a
purgatory, and even more so after the Adagio with its ‘farewell’
mystifications (another good reason to abandon the ‘workshop model’ with the
Finale performed as a solitary entity). According
to Phillips, the reconstruction of the Finale was less a matter of dabble
scholarship and more a question of practical implementation, i.e. performing
the music, at the same time offering new knowledge to anyone willing to
listen and to appreciate a masterwork that was obscured and kept from the
public domain for almost a century. This goes beyond the debate whether it
was justifiable to take up a work that was left uncompleted. In this
particular case Bruckner did not leave some fragments or sketches, but a work
in progress containing long stretches in clearly defined form, partly even
scored for instruments, with consecutive page numbering and even clear
markings in the composer’s handwriting that specific parts in the manuscript
were considered finished (fertig). Obvious errors could be substituted
by sketch material – also for the coda – or previously completed parts, and
all within the discourse and to the benefit of the ongoing musical argument.
Frankly, this was already the result of the work by Samale and Mazzuca, as
given in their Critical Annotations to the Ricostruzione edition,
published by Ricordi in 1986. Phillips
edited the following volumes (some are still under preparation, in particular
a text book on the Finale and new transcriptions of the surviving sketches,
drafts and discarded score bifolios of the first and third movements): v Facsimile edition of Bruckner’s
full autograph, MWV,
Vienna, 1996 (ISMN M-50025-133-0) v Accompanying documentation, MWV, Vienna, 1999/2002 (ISMN
M-50025-232-0) v
Reconstruction of the autograph score, MWV, Vienna, 1994/99 (ISMN
M-50025-211-5) Phillips’
documentary work was solely based on what Bruckner had left and as far as it
could be deciphered and interpreted, with no additions of its own, accompanied
by extensive commentary. Missing pages remained blank in Phillips’ edition,
the composition material gets thinner as the music progresses through the
recapitulation section. Phillips also included the drafts for the coda. It got its
first public performance in November 1999, by the Vienna Symphony Orchestra
conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt, creating a sensation in musical circles
and beyond, but the inevitable gaps disrupted the musical argument, in short
it had all the virtues and disadvantages of a typical ‘workshop’ version (526
bars or about 18 minutes of fragmented music). It is a pity only that
Harnoncourt did not perform the coda sketches (they were only included in the
first complete performance of the ‘Documentation’ by the Philharmonia Hungarica,
conducted by Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs, in April 2001 in Dusseldorf). The first
recording (RCA/BMG 82876 54332-2) of this Finale fragment was made at the
Salzburg Festival in August 2002, performed by the Vienna Philharmonic
Orchestra conducted by Harnoncourt, who also acted as the witty narrator
during the workshop session. After the interval the familiar three-movement
version was performed, in the new critical edition prepared by
Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs. Samale and Mazzuca From the very beginning,
Samale worked together with the composer Giuseppe Mazzuca. In 1984 they
studied Bruckner’s manuscripts at the Austrian National Library in Vienna,
whereas Samale also got hold of the photographs of the sketch material, which
had been transferred in 1941 from the Prussian State Library to Silezia and
finally rediscovered in 1976 in the Jagiellonska Library in Cracow. Their
efforts finally led to the critically annotated Ricostruzione edition
(1985), performing version (after Carragan’s although completed
version) on the subject, published by Ricordi in 1986 (Nowak had refused its
publication as part of the Kritische Gesamtausgabe due to the
individual additions to Bruckner’s manuscripts for performance purposes), and
subsequently recorded by Eliahu Inbal in 1987 (Teldec 4509-91446-2) and
Gennadi Rozjdestvenski in 1988 (Japan BMG Melodyia CD BVCX38015/16). Notwithstanding
Nowak’s refusal it cannot be denied that Samale and Mazzuca had executed
their job very seriously. Samale punctually calligraphed the score in
accordance with the original manuscript (including Bruckner’s own page
numbering and metric figures) and clearly separated the original text from
the additions by use of different font sizes. One of the new edition’s great
virtues was the correction of many of Orel’s mistakes. What was missing in
the lost manuscript sheets had been cautiously supplemented with original
parts from the material that Bruckner had previously considered but finally
rejected, supplemented with ‘raw material’ such as sketches and drafts that
were available. Critics did
not render the Samale-Mazzuca edition a warm welcome, as they were focusing
on the imaginative solutions the team had adopted, just prior to the coda,
culminating in integrating and processing the main themes of all four
movements, followed by the famous chorale theme and merging into a cadenza
composed by Samale with the subsequent apotheosis on an ostinato model in D,
being critically also on incidentally unstylish instrumentation, the
unsatisfying ending (instead of a brilliant D major in the empty D minor
quint D-A) and spurs of other unidiomatic solutions. However, the greatest
asset of the new edition was the kind of ‘pull-down menu’ it offered, the
Finale’s first ever full panorama in a performing version that kept the
additions – although unmistakably present – to a minimum, with the detailed
critical annotations presented by the team. Work still in progress but without Mazzuca There is also a live
recording from a concert by the Polish National Radio Orchestra in Catowice,
on 8 October 1988, conducted by Samale, and prepared with Cohrs’ conducting
assistance (Melodram CD MEL 989/1-2). As we saw before, Nowak
had assigned John Alan Phillips in May 1991 with editing Bruckner’s Ninth and
particularly the Finale fragment anew, in order to have it officially
published as part of this Gesamtausgabe. Cohrs had introduced
Phillips to Samale in the early 1990’s already, and in collaboration with
Samale, and later also consulting Cohrs, Phillips conceived a new score,
typeset it on his computer and finally published it in Adelaide (his
hometown) and Bremen (Cohrs’ hometown) in 1992 in a private impression. This
edition became known as the Completed Performing Version
Samale-Phillips-Cohrs-Mazzuca or – abbreviated – the SPCM version, which
had nothing to do with Phillips’ edition of the fragments only, a workshop
version for the Musikwissenschaftlicher Verlag in Vienna. The SPCM score
appeared in Phillips’ exclusive editorship merely for copyright reasons (the
Samale/Mazzuca version was still under Ricordi’s copyright regime at that
time, while the publisher was not interested in the SPCM score). The long title was
adopted to give proper credit to the commitment of all the persons involved
in the entire project, from its very beginning. The 1991 score (recorded in
1993 by the Bruckner Orchestra in Linz conducted by Kurt Eichhorn / Camerata
CD 30CM 275-6) was subjected to a few minor revisions by Phillips, two of
them suggested by Cohrs, in 1996, and was recorded again in 1998 (a live
recording by the New Philharmonic Orchestra of Westphalia conducted by
Johannes Wildner / Naxos 2CD 8.555933-34). The differences between the 1991
and 1996 editions are very minor indeed. This performing version remained
valid until 2004. The
new Critical Edition by Samale and Cohrs (2005) Finally, in 2003 Samale
and Cohrs asked Phillips to join them in order to prepare an entirely new
version of the performing edition. However, Phillips showed no further
interest in a collaboration and thus Cohrs and Samale prepared their
own new edition of the Finale-Completion, published in 2005 by Musikproduktion
Jürgen Höflich in Munich, as Completed Performing Version
Samale-Phillips-Cohrs-Mazzuca (1983-1991): New Critical Edition
(1996-2004) by Nicola Samale & Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs. It included
also for the very first time a full Critical Commentary in both German and
English. The New Critical Edition
also contains the replenishment with material from Bruckner’s own sketches
that solves two major gaps in the second theme and the fugue. Cohrs: ”The
reconstruction of lost score bifolios, the overall instrumentation, the
elaboration of the coda (again, largely recovered from Bruckner´s own
sketches), tempi, dynamics and articulation were likewise thoroughly revised.
554 of the 665 bars of this New Critical Edition are original (208 bars
finished, 224 bars incomplete scoring, 122 bars of continuity drafts and
drafts). From 111 bars of replenishment (ca. 17% of the Finale, 5.4 % of the
symphony, or approximately 4 minutes of music), 68 were regained by
repetition, sequencing, or transposition of original material. Only 43 bars
were synthesised without concrete proof, less than two third of the
instrumentation required completion by the editors.” The premiere took place
in Fulham Town Hall in Fulham, London, on 3 December 2005 by the Fulham
symphony Orchestra conducted by Marc Dooley. It is fascinating to
experience that Cohrs, who, like Phillips, had worked on Bruckner’s Ninth and
its sources for many years, found a compelling argument for producing a new
score on basis of new manuscript research and some surprise findings, one of
these relating to dynamic and agogic detailing, which Bruckner habitually
reserved until after completion of the entire work. Various
stages We also
see various phases in the reconstruction of the Finale of the Ninth by
Phillips, Samale, Cohrs and Mazzuca: no less than four phases can be ascertained
so far, the most recent one already mentioned, the Completed Performing
Version Samale-Phillips-Cohrs-Mazzuca (1983-1991): New Critical Edition
(1996-2004) by Nicola Samale & Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs. To
some, this may create additional doubts about the Finale’s musical viability
in its reconstructive appearance, not quite appreciating that new insights,
anecdotes and papers (like a previously unknown sketch paper from June 1895,
which was found in 2003 in the estate of a Munich music critic) and a healthy
dosis of rethinking and ‘scholar investment’ may direct to specific
improvements. It cannot be overlooked that the continuous provisional status
of the reconstruction work could degrade either its importance or its values
in certain musical circles, but it adorns musicologists who are anxious to
partially ‘overrule’ their own previous version(s) in order to make it (even)
better. It reveals the kind of flexibility and zest needed as an important
contributing factor to get an even more compelling result. Fact is
and remains that the Finale’s material was not treated with utmost care after
Bruckner’s death and that the truncated, three-movement form quickly gained
momentum as a falsely accepted doctrine ruled by tradition, ignorance and
indifference. Time has proven that it took enormous effort to get the
four-movement symphony really performed. Even today, most ‘star conductors’
are not willing to go beyond the lines of tradition. Maybe they are through
the years encapsulated in the Bruckner clichés and not able to adhere to
Bruckner’s unexpected boldness of composition in the Finale, or they have
other doubts. Even in this domain there is still a lot of work in progress...
and to do… The workshop model In
Bruckner’s lifetime, major part of his music was rejected as being
‘unplayable’. Harnoncourt and the orchestra had virtually the same feeling
when faced with the Finale in the Phillips edition for the very first time.
When they had to play the music from the score for the first time, their
basic feeling was: ”something like this cannot be played.” The fourth
movement was new, carried no performance tradition, appeared bold and
unpolished to them. Without defending all these encroaches in the very past,
there is at least some notion of the reasons why Bruckner’s music was found
unplayable. It also explains why Bruckner revised his original concept
thoroughly and vehemently, in order to get his work performed. Bruckner
compromised on the performance of his own work just by saying: ”Make
the changes you like, as long as you perform it.” However, he knew
exactly what he was doing, he did not compromise on his scores (”I shall
bequeath my manuscripts to the Court Library in the state as I composed.”) Appreciating that the Ninth’s
Finale is the innovative enfant terrible in Bruckner’s entire output
and that it will take time to accept it at length as part of the performance
tradition, it is understandable that the workshop model is currently opted
for, although it does not stimulate the understanding and appreciation of the
Finale as the inseparable part of the four-movement entity. Conductors should also have a
clear understanding of what the Finale is all about. For example, Riccardo
Chailly, one of the few well-established Bruckner conductors, missed the
point completely when he said: ”I’ve studied it (the Finale) indeed and have spoken to Mr. Samale,
who showed me the sketches; I have the score of the Finale. I intended to
perform it once but then I changed my mind. I do feel that the Finale is a
very interesting issue if it is played completely separately from the
symphony. If it’s taken as a workshop concert I could see the point; but to
try to sell it as the Finale of the symphony, linked to the rest of the
piece, I think is really not right. Samale showed me - the sketches are like
playing cards, pages without numeration where you do not see any order and
not any feeling of shape of the composition. There’s also the discrepancy of
the quality of music - what can you say at the end of the Adagio? The quality
of the music is so incredibly high; then you go back to a kind of sketchy,
scholastic, almost rhetoric piece. It’s my idea that it should be done in the
morning of an evening concert. You do a workshop of one hour about the
Finale, explaining the piece, and in the evening you perform the symphony in
three movements – that to me is the only possibility. I think that Mazzuca
and Samale did a very good job, and I admire their belief in what they did,
because they have been very honest and very scrupulous – but that does not
mean that the piece should be done with the rest of the symphony.” Cohrs
responded: ”Regarding Bruckner's unfinished Finale, I should add that Maestro
Chailly was wrong in his memory, since I know from my friend and colleague
Nicola Samale about their conversation in detail. Chailly mentioned
"sketches like playing cards"; in fact, this refers to a set of
13x20 cm photographs of the Cracow sketches to the entire Ninth, which Samale
took from the Microfilm for his studying purposes. These photos include only
one sketch page for the Finale. In fact, the new philological research shows
clearly, that the Finale material consists a) of various particello
sketches and drafts, b) several rejected score bifolios, and c) the
subsequently numbered, valid score bifolios of the emerging autograph score.
Several of the valid score bifolios, however, were stolen by souvenir hunters
from Bruckner´s dying-chamber. It was possible to reconstruct what remained
from the Finale´s autograph score on a solid philological fundament. The
incomplete autograph score (not ‘the sketches’!!!) today breaks off after ca
562 measures, shortly before the coda, which survives in at least further 56
measures, including the final cadenza going back into the tonic. From the
manuscript it is evident that Bruckner must have completed the entire score
at least in strings some time before his death; also the exposition (13 score
bifolios) must have been ready in full instrumentation. Several of the final,
valid score bifolios are lost today, most likely also including the very end
of the movement, which was originally ca 700 measures long. Therefore,
Maestro Chailly is simply wrong where he states that the Finale consists of
‘pages without numeration where you do not see any order and not any feeling
of shape of the composition’.” Of course,
it is always an easy ride for any conductor to perform the three-movement
version for an audience feeling quite comfortable with about 60 minutes of
music, and surely when it concerns Bruckner’s swansong. On top of that the
last notes of the Adagio and the subsequent almost sanctuary silence make the
flesh creep... The real Finale as it now stands in front of us does
not need emphatic pleas but its greatness simply speaks for itself. A
workshop environment cannot do full justice to this phenomenon and should
only be considered in view of the musicians and audiences getting accustomed
to Bruckner´s bold and unpolished concept. Bruckner's estate In
contrast with preliminary drafts and sketches of previous works, the
compositional history of Bruckner’s last symphony happens to
be well documented by drafts and in part already fully scored fragments.
The composer simply did not live long enough to destroy what he considered
no longer needed! Almost no sketch material survives of most of the
symphonies, only a couple of discarded bifolios and pages. We have
only extant, huge materials of the Eighth and Ninth Symphonies. However,
it may be possible that already in Bruckner´s lifetime he gave away
discarded material for the Ninth´s Finale at least in one case: the
four discarded score bifolios found in the estate of Cyrill Hynais,
one of The
executor failed to hold the estate together until all matters were properly
settled. Only the scores of main works, which Bruckner had bequeathed to the
Court Library in Vienna went there straight away. As a consequence,
acquaintances, friends and societies got their share in this ‘equation at
random’. Schalk and
Löwe got the opportunity to verify the manuscripts and other papers that Bruckner
had left, and they decided that the less important relics – including books –
were transferred to Bruckner’s sister, Rosalie Hueber in Vocklabruck (they
were later acquired by Max Auer). In 1902, a small case also containing part
of Bruckner’s correspondence was delivered to Bruckner’s first biographer,
August Göllerich in Linz. He would return it after use to the St. Florian
monastery. Bruckner
had already been through all the paper piles at the time that he was changing
quarters, from the Heßgasse to the Belvedere lodge. He ordered Anton Meißner
to throw all the ‘superfluous’ papers into the open fire, a rigorous act
mainly affecting his early manuscripts. It is the customary act by people
when moving to other premises, to get rid of each and everything that is no
longer valuable, just to minimise the hassle of toil and moil. (It appears
that Meißner kept a part to himself and gave away various manuscripts after
Bruckner’s death). On 18
October 1896, Josef Schalk obtained in concert with Reisch’ equation protocol
what was left of the manuscripts of the Finale of the Ninth to study their
context. All other scores, drafts and sketches were, as far as they had not
‘disappeared’ or given to other people, transferred to the Court Library in
Vienna (currently the Austrian National Library), all in accordance with
Bruckner’s Last Will. After
Josef Schalk’s death, on 7 November 1900, the Finale’s
manuscripts went to his brother Franz. In 1911 they were lent to Max
Auer for analysis. In 1914, four score bifolios were transferred from
Cyrill Hynais to the Vienna City and State Library and classified
as such on 14 April 1915. Another bifolio, also in private hands,
was handed to the Music Academy in Vienna in 1916. In
Bruckner. Versuch eines Lebens (Berlin, 1919) by Ernst Decsey,
also one of Bruckner’s former pupils, a total number of 75 bifolios
of the Finale is mentioned for the first time. In 1927, Amalie Löwe,
the widow of Ferdinand (he had died on 6 January 1925), and Rosalie
Hueber (Bruckner´s sister) sold a number of manuscript pages of the
Ninth to the Vienna City and State Library. It was in the same year
that the Anton Bruckner Gesellschaft was established. In 1933
followed another sale by Amalie Löwe, this time to the Prussian State
Library in Berlin, and in 1939 by Lili Schalk, the widow of Franz,
to the Austrian National Library. Due
to the pressing war situation in 1941, the archives of the Prussian
State Library were moved to Grussau in Silezia, and sketch material
of the Finale ‘rediscovered’ in 1976 in the Jagiellonska
Library in Cracow. Despite the
various transfers of manuscripts from private sources to libraries, there
were and are still parts missing. They may circulate and kept in private
circles, or may have finally disappeared in the course of time. In January
1966, the Austrian National Library obtained a bifolio of the Finale from the
estate of Richard Strauss. In 1971, another bifolio was transferred to the
Austrian National Library. A sketch from June 1895 could be retrieved in 2003
from the estate of a Munich music critic. The current
status of what has been collected, retrieved and subsequently archived is as
follows: v Austrian
National Library, Vienna: 195 folios v Vienna City
and State Library: 10 folios v Vienna Music
Academy: 2 folios v City of
Vienna Historical Museum: 2 folios v Jagiellonska
Library, Cracow: 1 folio v In private
hands (registered): 1 folio Wrong notes Nevertheless,
it took more than half a century since the publication of the Orel edition
(1934) that Nowak simply wanted Phillips to present all the existing
material, as it was instantly clear to him after the Orel edition was
released that it suffered from many serious flaws (Nowak’s 1951 edition only
contained a limited number of minor corrections). Also, the
symphony’s first three movements revealed many – in the perspective of Werktreue
important – disparities, edited and annotated by Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs in the
following editions: v movements 1-3, score, new
edition, MWV,Vienna, 2000
(ISMN M-50025-214-6) v movements 1-3, critical
commentary, MWV, Vienna,
2000 (ISBN 3- 900270-53-8) v movement 2, study volume, MWV, Vienna, 1998 (ISMN
M-50025-182-8) (Doblinger Verlag in Vienna
published Cohrs’ performing version and Kritischer Bericht (1998) of
two earlier, discarded trios (ISMN M-012-18489-8). Bruckner had composed two
earlier versions of the Trio for the second movement of the Ninth. No 1 in F
major was composed in 1889, No 2 in F sharp major dates from 1893. No 3,
also in F sharp major, from 1894 is the final version we are most familiar
with). As in so many scores and
first editions errors were not timely and properly corrected, and they found
their way in following editions until a new generation of musicologists and
musicians with a more accurate opinion about Werktreue (instead of Partiturtreue!)
made one discovery after the other. Even those well-established scores of
Beethoven and Schubert were scrutinized, with often astonishing results. In the case of Bruckner’s
music the substantial discrepancies and their huge variety called for a
critical review on scientific terms in order to introduce authentic
performance standards. In 1929, after founding the Internationale
Bruckner-Gesellschaft – IBG – (International Bruckner Society) in Vienna,
an immense workload was waiting. The editing of the Ninth started in 1934
(Orel) and is still in progress, more than 70 years later. It took until 2000
to dispose of a ‘clean’ score for just the first three movements only,
meaning that yet there is only one recording that does not contain textual
errors (the already mentioned Harnoncourt performance / RCA/BMG 82876
54332-282876).
INTERVIEW
WITH Well – but the manuscript material indeed provides a lot of information, and much MORE information as it is the general belief. What did survive is at about 50% of the emerging autograph score, but also ca 70 % of the music lost from the missing bifolios could be recovered from sketches, drafts, discarded earlier versions and forensic studies – amazing! This score must have been preliminarily finished by Bruckner (at least with all strings and some sketched wind motives), due to one simple fact: the philological studies as in particular undertaken by John Phillips revealed that without doubt Bruckner renumbered the bifolios of the score only in May/June 1896, after he had at least sketched the coda, and we have even a date for this as an evidence – "14.6.96", given on 13E/"14" (Facsimile Edition, p. 225). This renumbering was done, because in this phase of the composition he had decided to split up the very long bifolio 2F (which increased now to 36 bars) into a "2" and "3", all written on the late-used E-paper type, hence all subsequent bifolios had to be renumbered. Most likely his secretary Meißner may have had the task to scratch out the old consecutive numbers with a razor blade, which would be overwritten then with one number higher. We had noted something similar in the first movement already: Only after finishing its score for a first time (which had 23 numbered bifolios in autumn 1892), during a revision in autumn 1893 Bruckner decided to expand the bridge to the recapitulation of the song period and to include a new bifolio "18" (see Critical Report, p. 50ff), which made it necessary to renumber all subsequent bifolios from "18" to "23" into "19" to "24". But – and this is the point – I believe such a procedure of renumbering would make sense only when the entire score was already there! But
if this renumbering in the Finale indeed happened in May/June 1896,
it also gives us a clue to estimate the entire length of the original
score, even if now partially lost, at least with a high degree of
certainty: In one of the sketches for the coda, we find the famous
annotation of Bruckner "Bogen 36. 19. Ces" (FE, p. 45). This would read: On May 19th Bruckner
reached the Ces, the beginning of the "Final cadenza", as
two days later clearly re-sketched and further established (FE, p.
47: "am 21. Donnerstag, 22. Freitag, 23. Samstag"). If we
follow Bruckner’s usual practice, he would write such a bifolio
indication precisely at that point of the sketch where the new
bifolio (here: 36) would have to start. (We have several other instances
in the manuscripts where he did the same, note, for instance, the
particello sketch of the exposition, FE p. 33, where Bruckner writes
"neuer Bog." precisely at the same spot where the later
4C/"5" started). But this indication was written in May,
obviously BEFORE the renumbering; he would have had outwritten the
primary score bifolios for the coda perhaps immediately after sketching
their content (again: this was part of his usual compositional practice:
as soon as a music was clearly sketched, first lay it out in score,
for strings; it could be revised later anyway) and only then after
returned to the exposition and renumber the bifolios subsequently.
Hence the bifolio on which the cadenza had started was later to be
a renumbered 36/"37". But this single indication of Bruckner
in the sketch allows us now for almost PRECISELY estimate the length
of the gap between the final surviving score bifolio 31E/"32"
and the cadenza beginning on the lost 36/"37"!! Four bifolios
must be missing here (32E/"33", 33E/"34", 34E/"35",
35E/"36"), most likely all on E-paper, prepared with 16
bars each, implying a gap of 64 bars. Furthermore we would know that
most likely the chorale Bridge constituting the 8-bar-Period before
the Ces-cadenza would be then the second half of the lost 35/"36".
What we do NOT know is,
where exactly the coda would have started, of which we have the beginning
sketched (24 bars), hence we do knot know EXACTLY how much music was between
the last bar of 31E/"32" and the first bar of the sketch for the
beginning of the coda, and how much music was there between the last bar of
it and the first bar of this C major chorale fragment preparing the cadenza.
We also do NOT know whether Bruckner himself followed strictly the 16 bar
structure of the E paper bifolios, or whether he would have inserted some
further bar lines, as, for instance, already on the first page of
"2"E which contains 6 instead of 4 bars. On the other hand, this is
the only surviving E-paper with such a subdivision at all, and the musical
structure of 31E/"32" and the cadenza sketch would only suggest one
further of such subdivisions: the last period on 31E/"32" ends with
its sixth bar, and we do not know precisely whether Bruckner would have
completed it with [-7–8] in an 8-bar-period or not. But 36/"37"
would have started with the first bar of a period. If we consider Bruckner
would have continued the lost music in periods of 4, 8 and 12 bars length, it
is likely that he somewhere had to include two bars more, if he not decided
somewhere to have 10 or 6 bars only, but this is more unlikely. However, the
little annotation "Bogen 36. Ces" provides enough information to
establish at least a hypothesis, based on facts and some fruitful deduction,
and estimate the length of this huge gap, with perhaps only two bars in
doubt. Even more the length of
the very end of the coda: Bruckner sketched a D pedal point following the
cadenza, doubtless the final tonic. This would have started then on the lost
37/"38". If we consider that all previous movements had a sort of a
'final capstone' of precisely 37 bars length, we can assume with some
certainty that this was also planned for the Finale, following the sketched 8
bars of tonic pedal point some more 29 would have had to follow, in all,
bringing the score to an end with two further lost bifolios of 16 bars
perhaps (37/"38" and 38/"39") and one last page of a
39/"40" with the final five bars. So even if the final
double bar-line is not included in the surviving material anymore, we can
assume its position and a hint of the music at least from logical deduction. So regarding the full
length of the Finale, we have only a very few question marks: 1.) Was the
missing bifolio "1" 16 or still 24 bars long? (We have sufficient
arguments for the shorter version, however) 2.) Was the missing bifolio
"4" 16 or 18 bars long? 3.) How long precisely was the missing
27/"28" – 20 or 24 bars? (we have again good reason to assume here
24 bars if we compare this passage with the surviving sketch for it, already
containing 17 bars, and due to the structure of the periods) 4.) Did Bruckner
stuck to the 16 bar standard length in the missing bifolio"33" to
"36", or did he include at least two or more further bars? 5.) Was
the final section really planned to be 37 bars long? If we summarize the
answers to these questions, we may say: 1.) 8 bars in dispute; 2.) 2 bars in dispute; 3.) perhaps 4
bars in dispute; 4.) at least 2 bars in dispute; 5.) certainly not 29 bars in
dispute, since the final pedal point would have been at least longer than the
8 bars sketched, in all ca. 47 bars in question. This would bring the
movement to a length of perhaps not more than 673 bars (if we accept the 24
bars version of the missing "1"). You may now say: Well,
this all sounds very nice, but is sheer speculation. But if we would have no
piece of music here, and instead a person killed, with some parts of the corpse
missing, and if we would be forensic investigators such as in the TV series
"CSI", we would accept the following idea – to collect all
information which is still available, bring it together by scientific
deduction, and try to establish a hypothesis sufficient enough to find out
why the one died, how the person had looked like before the birds of prey
have eaten perhaps parts of his face and arms and legs, and then try to find
the murderer... And this is indeed all we can do – take every single bit of information
from Bruckner´s own music, and present the results of our examination as well
established as possible. How did you proceed
from the point where Bruckner did not provide full instrumentation, such as
in the continuity drafts? (example bifolio “#”D =“5b”). In other cases
Bruckner could have added specific voices at a later stage, where he already
writes in full score (example: such as in bifolio 4A, page 3). There are
numerous spots in the scoring with failing instrumentation markings, presumably
because the composer did not need reminders for later instrumentation, in
contrast with others being clearly laid out, for instance for the viola, in
case he might overlook or just forget later in the instrumentation process
that this specific phrase was to be played by the viola. The divisi markings,
where for instance celli need to play in double parts, also served as a
reminder. Summarising, how could you fill it all in where Bruckner did not
leave adequate hints in his manuscripts (particellos, bifolios). Actually there are by far
more adequate hints by Bruckner himself as one may think! Before starting
such a discussion, we need to answer another question: "How full"
was the instrumentation intended to be, or better: how much additions does
the music require at all? Regarding the bifolio"#"D, which you have
mentioned, Samale and I now simply regard it as an erroneous attempt to
re-copy 4C/"5", and don´t share Dr. Phillips’ construction of this
as an indicated 16 bar expansion, as explained in the Commentary of our new
edition: This idea is simply not in line with the particello sketch and also
not with Bruckner’s usual style, if you compare the first part of the song
period in exposition and recapitulation in all previous symphonies (and the
first movement of the Ninth): However, the surviving 4C/"5"
indicates a finished instrumentation with whole bar rests in all parts except
strings and 1.2. horn (see also the first two pages of 4A); it was renumbered
in June 1896 into "5" and even marked as "giltig" (valid)
by Bruckner. Even if Bruckner may have changed this music any further, we
have no reason to assume that he would have added more instruments, because
the instrumentation remained unchanged in all previous phases of the
composition. Or take the first two pages of 7C/"8" (FE, p. 181f) in
comparison with 7B (FE, p. 177f): In the last version of the bifolio,
Bruckner gave all the whole bar rests with the exception of the upper
strings, and on the next page he eliminated the first four horns supporting
the dotted motive of the viola, sketched on 7B, 2nd page, to make the scoring
even thinner. So we can gain much information about the instrumentation by
simply comparing the various surviving compositional phases. A very important insight
about instrumentation was provided by John Phillips during his work with
Samale in 1990/1: Bruckner would often add melodies or motives only if the
counterpoint fabric would allow such an addition, or if certain motives would
undergo a process of mutation. A good example is the added counterpoint of
the solo horn at the beginning of the Trio in the song period, which would
rhythmically compliment the fabric of the other parts and provide precisely
the one missing element. This section is also an example for another significant
idea: When Bruckner repeats such material more or less literally in the
recapitulation, he would enrich it with added instrumental colours, as for
instance can be seen in the first movement. In this case we have taken also
the very similar Finale of the Sixth symphony as a model to provide a fuller
instrumentation of the Trio in the recapitulation. On the other hand,
Bruckner did not think in terms of "instrumentation" as we often do
think about it – simply like giving a nude person a dress. His idea on this
is more like this: If you freeze, you would need a scarf and a hat and
gloves. So a particular musical situation would require a certain
instrumentation. For instance: the Crescendo
in the recapitulation, preparing the chorale theme from C flat major
/ A flat minor, is in the sketch only one single line in the violins,
plus at the beginning a sketched self-imitation in diminution, both
making use already of the chorale theme. Alone from the character
of the music we have already clues for the instrumentation: It should
obviously start soft, and build up an effective crescendo in order
to prepare a violent break-through of D minor, as at the end of the
sketch marked "Schluß d-moll" by Bruckner, with the heavy
weight of a first bar of a period. This is only a first climax, because
the surviving 28E/"29" brings a much more exalted, second
crescendo to prepare the chorale plus Te Deum. But if we imagine
the D minor to be a tutti climax, we need to find stylistically appropriate
models of how to build up the crescendo itself. We find these models
in the main theme itself (dotted rhythm in all strings, supporting,
resonant line in the brass) and as well in a similar passage in the
Finale of the Eighth symphony, after the recapitulation of the first
theme group.. To
give a voice in the score to a specific instrument or a combination of
instruments is an important decision for any composer. Individual
instrumental colours determine the music’s mood to a great extent. How did
you know that a specific voice line should be given to the oboe instead of
the flute? How did you establish that Bruckner had written a specific line
for specific brass instruments, for instance for the horn? In some cases it
is simply guesswork, and we don´t know of course whether Bruckner
would have chosen the same instrument, or not. But at least we have
many clues how Bruckner wrote for his instruments, studying the music,
finding similar passages, if possible firstly from the Finale itself,
then from the other three movements, then from music composed at the
same time, and also considering the Te Deum and earlier symphonies.
Bruckner had some very particular habits to write for his orchestra,
which were also thoroughly examined by Dieter Michael Backes recently,
in his dissertation Die Instrumentation und ihre Entwicklung in
Anton Bruckners Symphonien (Mainz 1993). Take, as an example,
the instrumentation of the chorale recapitulation (bifolio 28E/"29"),
of which we have only Bruckner’s strings and the first trumpet
with the chorale melody: many other completers have interpreted this
as a soft reminiscence, but the manuscript provides in the two bars
before the trumpet entry whole bar rests in BOTH trumpet systems,
which is a typical shorthand writing of Bruckner to indicate that
all three trumpets should later play the melody, so he simply left
out the doubling in the lower system for writing convenience. The
string texture itself, with the powerful Te Deum figure and
viola tremolo, is a typical forte design, not soft, and most important
is also Bruckner’s own diminuendo ("dim."), to be
found in the eighth bar of the trumpet line, indicating that it should
be loud earlier, but here become softer. So we finally have simply
adopted the brass-parts from the exposition, and in order to bring
out the diminuendo from the 9th bar onwards have thinned out the instrumentation,
reducing the harmonic support to trombones, double bass-tuba, and
starting the trumpet writing in three parts, leaving out the horns.
The last two bars of the bifolio provide further information: The
melody is taken over by the 1st oboe, the viola gives up its tremolo,
and goes with celli, double basses suddenly rest. This suggests a
change of register and a further reduction of the dynamics. Since
it would be untypical to have such a figure as the strings here without
harmonic support by sustained notes, we have supported the oboe chorale
with lower woodwinds, because in such a soft passage certainly this
can´t be the brass anymore. As Backes further
pointed out, Bruckner’s writing is so characteristic that even
from a single line in the sketch we could very often easily deduce
for which instrument it was intended. Very important here is the ambitus
of the instrument, the lowest and highest note possible – this
already limits the choice. But this is all basic knowledge of instrumentation:
If you double a viola, you may use a horn, a bassoon or a clarinet,
then consider dynamics and the colour, and make your choice. One of
the reasons for us to reconsider the entire instrumentation, however,
was the insight, that we would have to take in account those instruments
which Bruckner himself wrote for – that is, not our days’
modern, wide-bored brass instruments, for instance, but thin, handmade
Viennese horns, the large trumpet in F, Viennese tenor bass-trombones
in E flat, Viennese doublebass-tuba, the wooden, old Viennese flute,
the Viennese oboe, clarinet and bassoon – instruments which
sounded totally different from ours. You need to know about these
instruments, how they sound, where their limitations are, and how
Bruckner wrote for them, in order to accurately write for them in
a Brucknerian way. For instance, for the flute, Bruckner would avoid
tones above b´´´ and also the lowest register (d´is the lowest note
in the Ninth, and it appears only in the main theme of the first movement)
which are no problem for a modern flute. In particular due to my own
interest in period performing practice, we have changed many passages
in our new edition, in order to bring it in line with Bruckner’s
habits, overlooked in our earlier working phases. I find it amazing that
until this day no great Bruckner conductor – apart from Nikolaus Harnoncourt
– has taken a serious effort to perform a four-movement version of the Ninth,
as if it does not exist. The latest news I got on the subject was that the
Bamberger Symphoniker under the baton of Jonathan Nott had planned a
performance on 20 April using the latest SPCM edition, but it was cancelled
without any explanation. I also understood that Nott got all the
documentation to support the reconstruction, but it appeared to be in vain.
Why do you think it is so difficult to get this greatest of Bruckner Finales
performed? Has it something to do with those many doubts that still exist?
That too much in the score is unclear, needs compromising, and that we shall
never know the truth? In defence of Mr.
Nott I must say that recently he wrote me an e-mail, explaining that
to study the matter thoroughly would have required much more time
as he had since he got the materials, and he is a very busy man; the
April 2006 concert was simply too early for him to come to a definitive
decision, as he explained. But he remains to be interested, as he
wrote. I would also like to point out that many at least quite well-known
conductors in fact did the completed Ninth, as for instance Philippe
Herreweghe, Johannes Wildner, Lawrence Renes and Günter Neuhold. But
basically you are right. The reasons are manifold. It is perhaps impossible
to overcome those prejudices of 100 years of reception: As much as
the Mozart-Süßmayr Requiem became a beloved part of the standard repertoire,
as much Loewe’s campaign was effective to establish the general
belief that the symphony is in itself complete as a torso, even if
this is against the composers will and simply a habit. Even worse:
he also successfully established that, against Bruckner’s wish,
the Te Deum should better NOT be performed following the symphony,
despite that some great conductors (even Karajan) occasionally performed
the Ninth and after a concert break the Te Deum, which to me
seems to be at least an appropriate solution better, and better than
the torso alone. Another point is the radical nature of Bruckner’s
music itself: It is not easy to understand that the pathetic Adagio
should be followed by a harsh, toccata-like 'Inferno', postponing
the final salvation until the very last moment. There are simply too
many misunderstandings and resentments against the music and the entire
undertaking. The
performance of the Finale as an integrated part of Bruckner’s last
‘Gesamtkunstwerk’ is still in its infancy and needs full recognition before a
performance tradition can hold. How do you think this can be established in
time? Great Bruckner conductors must have studied your score in the meantime,
but there seems nobody yet – except Harnoncourt - to take up the baton. I
asked Hartmut Haenchen but he was not interested. There is still a lot of
opposition against touching a musical torso and when people do not know the
real facts behind what Bruckner left and how the reconstruction process goes,
they are probably not going to give up their resistance. Conductors are the
first to make it happen, to create an electrifying event in the concert hall,
and to explain to the audience what they are trying to accomplish. Not in
some kind of a workshop scenario, but in the four-movement version Bruckner
had it in mind. To understand and appreciate the real greatness of the Finale
needs the three preceding movements. Where are they? There is perhaps not
enough common knowledge about the facts, but on the other hand too much
information: imagine a poor jetset-maestro would have to study a pile of
books and scores first – the Facsimile, the 'Documentation', the Completed
Performing Version and then to decide what he should do. Those people even
don´t find the time to learn new repertory, travel around the world, do 120
concerts a year and endlessly repeat their standard pieces. Why, how and when
should they re-learn the Ninth in four movements? What we would need is two
or three well-known, open-minded chaps with major orchestras who would like
to do the completed Ninth in a major capital, perhaps Harnoncourt (if he is
ever to do the Ninth again), Claudio Abbado, Mariss Jansons, Esa Pekka
Salonen, Seiji Ozawa, Pierre Boulez, Simon Rattle, or Paavo Järvi, who could
do the piece so successfully that the simple fact would convince others that
it is no crime any longer to use the Finale. This already worked remarkably
well in the case of Mahler's Tenth: Even Michael Gielen, who only a few years
ago confessed he would never do anything else than the first Adagio, recently
presented a fantastic new recording of the 'Cooke et al' completion. But note: After I had conducted
the workshop concert on the Finale in Tokyo in 2001 with the Royal
Flanders Philharmonic, Philippe Herreweghe came to me and said: "You
know – the more often I hear the piece, the more I like it."
Then he took the completed Ninth on tour through Japan, and he did
it, I think, four times there. But the reviews were rather conservative
about the matter, and since 2001 he never again did the Finale at
all, although he does Bruckner a lot ... Which brings me to the next
point: The symphony in four movements lasts ca 90 Minutes; it would
have to be programmed usually without anything else. Bruckner concerts
are hard to sell anyway, and if then the beloved Mozart-Concerto could
NOT happen in the first part, and no intermission for drinks and chat,
people would not come. And if then a quarter of the piece appears
to be 'second hand Bruckner', it may be even more difficult to programme
it in ordinary concert life. So all we can hope for is that the quality
of the music itself sooner or later would make the round. If I would
be as rich as Gilbert Kaplan, who paid orchestras in the entire world
to conduct solely his beloved Mahler Two, I would go on tour to conduct
the completed Ninth wherever I could, but I am not rich. And which
orchestral manager would dare to invite a no-name-conductor for a
Bruckner Nine? Unfortunately we even were unsuccessful so far to raise
enough money to give at least a proper performance of the completed
Ninth on period instruments with the fantastic New
Queen´s Hall Orchestra – an idea we try to work out now
for already seven years, without success, and we would need only ca.
75.000 Euro for a proper concert and live CD-recording project ... Mahler
once said: ”Tradition ist Schlamperei.” This perfectly fits the performance
tradition of Bruckner’s symphonies in their various versions. The first
version of the Eighth – and I think it is superior to the second – is rarely
played, as is the first version of the Third and the Fourth. It seems to me
that when a tradition has really established itself, huge powers are needed
to change patterns, but it simply does not happen. This is not really hopeful
when it comes to the Ninth’s Finale… Don´t lose your hope! We
may not forget that the initial versions of the Third, Fourth and Eighth were
only published 30 years ago. Inbal’s CD recording of them was a pioneer's
work, discussed highly controversial by the critics. But now, the initial
version of the Third is more and more recognized as a great, independent and
coherent argument of the piece. Even Celibidache had planned to perform it
(unfortunately he died before this could be realised). I think the Fourth and
Eighth will be likewise recognized sooner or later. Now take the Finale of
the Ninth – perhaps it is simply still too early to come to lose hope. But I
have hope – I receive so many letters and e-mails from Bruckner-admirers in
the entire world, offering support, asking for more performances, and some of
them even took the initiative to write pertinently to concert organisers and
conductors regarding the matter. And I am also happy that interested writers
like yourself study the matter, come to their conclusions and publish their
new insights. All this is very much of help for Bruckner’s music. How do you see
'Werktreue' in the perspective of the reconstruction process? This is a totally
misunderstood concept, preserved from the late-romantic aesthetics. The word
represents the strange idea that a performance could come as close to a
'correct' 'interpretation' of 'the text' – a relict from the secularisation
in the age of enlightenment, when culture became a surrogate for religious
activity in society. This is as much against the nature of music as the
common believe is against the human nature, that in our entire life we would
need the-one-and-only-person which would make all our dreams come true. But
in fact we live in a net of relationships with various people we continue to
meet, relationships of all kind of quality. But why don´t we learn to simply
live 'in love', not to the-particular-one-and-all, but as a way of life?
Likewise musical interpretation: We can and we should learn as much we can
about the nature of the music, but basically we should 'live in music'.
Reconstruction is part of our daily musical life and practice – in fact,
every interpretation is a reconstruction: the musician reconstructs an
experience in sound from the music he reads on the paper. Already the various
versions of Mahler's Tenth are basically also interpretations of their editors
and arrangers. The reconstruction and completion of the Bruckner Finale is
precisely the same: we try to make it possible to experience Bruckner's own
music in sound, to make it performable. If you wish so, this is 'werktreu'.
Definitely it is not 'werktreu' to undermine the ideas of Bruckner himself.
If we dispense with the finale of the Ninth, why then not as well with that
of the Seventh, for instance? Let´s take away the finale, put the Scherzo in
the second place and end with the Farewell to Wagner – who the hell would
need a Finale for the Seventh? An absurd debate ... Do
you think that your reconstruction work contributed to a much better
understanding of the first three movements? Why? Many processes from the
first three movements did not come to an end yet with the end of the Adagio.
In fact, the end of the Adagio stimulate even some new processes continued in
the Finale. This idea was actually very important for us – observing the
motivic development and see where it needs to be reconstructed, in order to
bring it to a sufficient end. It is particularly fascinating how Bruckner
carefully seems to prepare the return of the main theme from the first
movement in the Finale, by establishing its principal motives: Note that the
motto from the beginning of the Finale already contains the inversion from
the famous horn call at the beginning of the symphony, then the prominent
triplet from the main theme is used. Note that the string figuration of the
chorale theme seems to be directly taken from the figuration of the coda of
the first movement, again containing the triplet core. Note how the Epilogue
theme of the Finale, first following the fugue, then following the chorale
recapitulation, contains the ‘Non confundar / Alleluja’ and again the triplet
feature of the main theme. And this is only a small excerpt from the manifold
processes of development which all aim for what already Samale and Mazzuca
had realised in their 1985 edition – the synthesis of all main themes of the
symphony. We have a simple argument for this: It is perfectly possible to do
so, following the structure of the themes as used, and as predictable as the
famous idea of Nottebohm, that for the lost part of Bach’s quadruple fugue
the main theme was intended to be added. And, significantly, going beyond
the argument at the end of the Eighth, because there Bruckner only combined
the head of the themes, and not original, but in a truncated manner,
transposed into C major. But here we can combine the themes in their original
condition! The Scherzo-theme is certainly merely a rhythm, even if containing
the important triplet. But if we take the augmented Adagio theme it matches
perfectly well with the main theme of the first movement. The Finale theme
would NOT match as in the exposition, but note that when Bruckner re-designed
it four the fugue, he changed the first note of the third bar from E to E
flat, and this would allow now to use it precisely in combination with the
other themes, bringing the substantial D / E flat clash. Likewise we have tried to
bring out other resolutions as indicated in the music. But this is only
possible because Bruckner’s own architectural thinking was so strong. Notice
only that even the small choral fragment, preceding the cadenza Sketch for
the coda, is nothing else than the inversion of four bars at the end of the
exposition of the main theme, shortly before this Choral-Bridge to the Song
period! So in particular in the coda we have tried to tie together things
that remained to be unsolved yet: For instance, the way how we re-introduced
the Te Deum motive in woodwinds is very similar to how Bruckner used
it in the Development section, serving as a model for our coda realisation.
Or take the ‘Non confundar / Alleluja’, referring to the trumpets in the
Adagio theme. (By the way: your quoted lines from Dr. Heller seem in fact
refer to the slow movement, and not the Scherzo, since I am sure Heller was
simply confused about the order of the movements: Note that Josef Schalk, who
made the piano arrangement of the symphony, gave the Adagio as a second
movement and the Scherzo as third. I assume that Schalk worked from copies of
the movements which are lost today, originally containing "Scherzo"
and "Adagio" titles only, but not marked explicitly as "2. Satz",
"3. Satz". It is even possible that Bruckner himself was not
entirely sure about the position of the inner movements for some time, since
it seems that on the first page of the Adagio autograph, the third beam of
the roman "III" in "III. Satz" has been added later!) In all, to present
the symphony without Finale seems to me like presenting a body without
its head. Not a very nice picture indeed. The entire character of
the work is changed by accepting the Finale – from a pathetic
Adagio of Farewell into a last struggle of life and death. The Finale
is a toccata-like "Inferno", an apocalyptic picture of the
last judgement. Bruckner struggled hard to achieve at least a compositional
coherence. He could not know that the material for the Finale would
be obscured soon after his death. Should his last battle remain to
be unacknowledged? Hence we also understand our reconstruction as
an attempt to compensate for the respectless treatment of Bruckner’s
heritage. Imagine that perhaps some respectless autograph collectors
may keep the lost bifolios in their possession and hide them from
us (if not already some of the bifolios have been destroyed immediately
after Bruckner’s death, for instance, by the religious fanatic
Meißner, perhaps from a false understanding of piety): In this case
I have to admit to feel an almost diabolic pleasure that it was possible
to STILL recover the Finale to such an extent from Bruckner’s
own backup-material, by following forensic methods and observing a
strict methodology! And I dare to predict that even if some or all
of the lost bifolios would once come to light again, we may already
have found at least the right music in many instances, even if we
of course cannot have guessed everything all right. But even if we
get an idea of the covering of only ca 80 % of the original whole
movement (and I don´t talk about instrumentation now, only the composition
itself), we would have regained much more of Bruckner’s music
as if 20 years ago we could have ever dreamed of!
Publications
by Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs on Bruckner's Ninth symphony (Finale): Important links: Selected
literature: [1] Max Auer/August
Göllerich: Anton Bruckner. Ein Lebens- und Schaffensbild,
volume IV/3, Regensburg 1928-36. John Alan Phillips: Study score, Vienna 1994. [2] Robert Hirschfeld: Anton
Bruckner. Neunte Symphonie. Uraufführung in Wien. Vienna 1903. Max Auer: Anton
Bruckner. Sein Leben und Werk. Zurich/Leipzig/Vienna 1923. [3] Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs & John Alan Phillips: Übersicht der Aufführungs-Versionen des Finale-Fragments in Bruckners Neunte im Fegefeuer der Rezeption. Musik-Konzepte 120/121/122, Munich 2003. [4] Benjamin-Gunnar Cohrs & John Alan Phillips: Einführung in die erhaltenen Quellen zum Finale in Bruckners Neunte im Fegefeuer der Rezeption. Musik-Konzepte 120/121/122, Munich 2003. [5] Elisabeth Maier: Verborgene Persönlichkeit. Anton Bruckner in seinen privaten Aufzeichnungen (Anton Bruckner. Dokumente & Studien 11). Musikwissenschaftlicher Verlag, Vienna 2001 (2 Volumes). [6] Dieter Michael Backes: Die Instrumentation und ihre Entwicklung in Anton Bruckners Symphonien. Mainz 1993. Anton Bruckner Symposium: Publications of the Anton Bruckner Institut Linz [Reference: Musikwissenschaftlicher Verlag]: Bruckner Symposium Linz 1977. »Anton Bruckner zwischen Wagnis und Sicherheit«, Linz 1978. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1980: »Die Fassungen«, Linz 1981. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1981: »Die Österreichische Symphonie nach Anton Bruckner«, Linz 1983. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1982: »Bruckner-Interpretation«, Linz 1983. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1983: »Johannes Brahms und Anton Bruckner«, Linz 1985. Bruckner Symposium Budapest 1983-84, Linz 1985. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1984: »Bruckner, Wagner und die Neudeutschen in Österreich«, Linz 1986. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1985: »Anton Bruckner und die Kirchenmusik«, Linz 1988. Bruckner Symposium Rom 1986, »Anton Bruckner e la musica sacra«, Rom 1987. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1986 »Bruckner, Liszt, Mahler und die Moderne«, Linz 1989. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1987: »Bruckner und die Musik der Romantik«, Linz 1989. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1988: »Anton Bruckner als Schüler und Lehrer«, Linz und Wien 1992. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1989: »Orchestermusik im 19. Jahrhundert«, Linz und Wien 1992. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1990: »Musikstadt Linz-Musikland Oberösterreich«, Linz und Wien 1993. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1991: »Bruckner-Rezeption«, Linz und Wien 1994. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1992: »Anton Bruckner -Persönlichkeit und Werk«, Linz und Wien 1995. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1993: »Zur Frage einer Osterreichischen Symphonik«, Linz und Wien 1996. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1994: »Bruckner-Freunde - Bruckner-Kenner«, Linz und Wien 1997. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1995: »Zum Schaffensprozess in den Künsten«, Linz und Wien 1997. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1996: »Fassungen - Bearbeitungen - Vollendungen«, Linz und Wien 1998. Bruckner Symposium Linz 1997: »Bruckner- Vorbilder und Traditionen«, Linz und Wien 1999. Bruckner
Symposium Linz 1998: »Zur Problematik von Künstlerbildern im 19.
Jahrhundert«, Linz und Wien 2000. Bruckner
Symposium Linz 2000: »Die materielle und soziale Situation des Künstler«,
Linz 2002. Bruckner-Tagung
Wien 1999, Wien 2000 Selected publications of Musikwissenschaftlicher
Verlag, Vienna: Cohrs, B.-G. (Hrsg.): Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie
d-moll, Scherzo er Trio, Studienband
zum 2. Satz, Wien 1998. Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie d-moll (1. Satz - Scherzo er Trio - Adagio), kritische Neuausgabe unter Berücksichtigung der Arbeiten von Alfred Orel und Leopold Nowak, Partitur und Stimmen, Wien 2000. Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie d-moll (1. Satz - Scherzo - Trio - Adagio), kritischer Bericht zur Neuausgabe, Wien 2001. Grasberger, R.:Bruckner-Stätten in Osterreich. Mit einem Anhang.- Bruckners Auslandreisen (ABIL Informationen 5), Wien 2001. Harrandt, A. und Schneider, O. (Hrsg.): Anton Bruckner, Briefe 1852-1886, Wien 1998. Anton Bruckner, Briefe 1887-1896, Wien 2002. Phillips, J. A. (Hrsg.): Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie d-moll, Finale (unvollendet), Rekonstruktion der Autograph-Partitur nach den erhaltenen Quellen, Studienpartitur, Wien 1994/99. Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie d-moll, Finale (unvollendet), Rekonstruktion der Autograph-Partitur nach den erhaltenen Quellen, Dokumentation des Fragments, Partitur einschl. Kommentar & Stimmen, Wien 1999/2001. Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie d-moll, Finale (unvollendet), Faksimile-Ausgabe sämtlicher autographen Notenseiten, Wien 1996. Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie d-moll, Textband, Wien (published after 2003). Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie d-moll, 1. Satz, Studienband, Wien (published after 2003). Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie d-moll, Adagio, Studienband, Wien (published after 2003). Anton Bruckner, IX. Symphonie d-moll, Finale, Studienband, Wien (published after 2003). Schönzeler, H. H.: Zu Bruckners IX. Symphonie. Die Krakauer Skizzen. Eine Bestandsaufnahme, Wien 1987. Anton Bruckner, Auswahl-Bibliographie
(1982-2002)
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