The fact that similar works remain inaccessible to the masses is perhaps a necessity

Frank wrote:

"The kind of unpopularity that touches these wonderful inspirations is an inevitable evil. But is it truly an evil?... I would say no. The fact that such works remain inaccessible to the masses is perhaps a necessity. There exist talents rich in charm, brio, and strength that are destined, if not for the common people, at least for the third estate of intelligences. But supreme geniuses like Beethoven were created by God only for sovereign hearts and minds."

scattered questions: what do we mean by sovereign hearts and minds?

Do all sovereign hearts and minds love Beethoven? That is, is it impossible for there to exist an intelligent, sensitive person who does NOT like Beethoven?

Are all those who like Beethoven sovereign hearts and minds? "Do you like Beethoven?" "Yes" "Ah, then you are a wonderful person!".

And is it possible that every time discussions about stupendousness concern something that we also happen to like? Berlioz likes Beethoven and, coincidentally, Berlioz thinks that those who love Beethoven are great. Frank likes Beethoven and Frank quotes the same phrase ;-)

let's make an effort of humility and find beautiful people who do NOT like Beethoven, authors considered wonderful whom we do NOT like, and pathetic authors whom we do like...

I don't have much time, but where is the issue of taste perceived in Berlioz's words? Thallo, Camy86 or whoever was interested in the discussion?

Hi Frank, it's a pleasure to find you again!

I think that all phrases must always be contextualized within the historical period in which they are uttered.

Berlioz's statement must be seen in full Romanticism and suffers from that typical emphasis. Furthermore, the relationship of the post-Beethoven musical world with the composer from Bonn was very contradictory. On one hand, there was a 'fundamental misunderstanding' of almost all the works of his later years – I won't say “third style” because Armando doesn't like it – too innovative and ahead of its time. In fact, many composers referred to the “heroic style,” starting, for example, only from the Opus 59 Quartets.

To fully understand this relationship, many symptomatic phrases come from three protagonists of the post-Beethoven era. Franz Schubert said: « Beethoven knows everything, but we cannot yet understand everything, and much water will flow in the Danube before all that this man has created is universally understood. Not only is he the most sublime and fertile of musicians; he is also the strongest. He is equally strong in dramatic music and epic music; in lyrical and prosaic; in a word, he can do anything. Mozart stands to him as Schiller stands to Shakespeare. Schiller is already understood, Shakespeare will not be for a long time. Everyone already understands Mozart; no one understands Beethoven. »

In addition to what you reported, and also regarding the late quartets, Hector Berlioz stated: « (...) The other day I listened to one of Beethoven's last quartets (...) there were almost three hundred people; only six of us felt stunned by the intensity of the emotions experienced, and furthermore, we six were the only ones who did not find this composition absurd, incomprehensible, barbaric. His music has reached such heights that we felt breathless (...). It is music suitable – only – for him and for those of us who have followed him into the immeasurable heights of his genius. (...) »

Clara Schumann, on November 24, 1842, in the diary written together with her husband Robert, noted: « (...) I feel a completely personal sentiment for both these great masters, Beethoven and Mozart. I love Mozart in a particular way, but I venerate Beethoven as a God, but an inaccessible God, who never becomes part of us. (...) »

Here Frank, «an inaccessible God, who never becomes part of us» I think is the phrase that better than any other can summarize the feeling of adoration, awe, and misunderstanding that characterized Beethoven's successors. If we consider that the Great Fugue Opus 133 was still judged unplayable in 1911 and was only performed again in 1927, on the centenary of the composer's death, we can well understand how difficult and arduous the path of the relationship with the late Beethoven was.

Today it no longer makes sense to speak of these supreme masterpieces in this manner. Beethoven is the universal composer par excellence and belongs to everyone, even to those who do not like him.

Hi Daniele, the pleasure is mine to have found you again.

danielescarpetti wrote:

Beethoven is the universal composer par excellence and belongs to everyone, even to those who do not like him.

I don't know whether to insist, but I insist

I read

"The fact that such works remain inaccessible to the masses is perhaps a necessity"

Accessibility involves a different reasoning than taste; it's fine that, like many composers of the late 1900s, I could almost define myself as post-romantic (and I say post, not neo... eh!), but words have a meaning.

Berlioz speaks of intelligence, genius... all aspects that do not fall within the sphere of taste. In your opinion, is there anyone from a popular audience capable of understanding the great fugue? I ask because one often encounters professionals who still struggle with that kind of listening...

As for whether Berlioz is also driven by an empathy with Beethoven's music or if he simply likes it, that is another matter. His words do not seem to me to bring taste into the equation.

Another question: in your opinion, a musician like Berio, who writes Sequence III, don't you think that deep down he hides (or shows) the ambition to write something that says: "Now you can get to this..."?

Tanto pour parler...

I also have little time, but I can manage to emphasize a problem. "Taste" is not limited to "like/dislike." We are talking about an expanded sense of the term taste, understood, precisely, as the ability to comprehend and receive the artistic element of something. When Berlioz speaks of comprehension, I don't think he is speaking of rational comprehension, such as the technical side of compositions, for example. Besides, there is no rational comprehension without artistic comprehension at those levels. That is, I don't need to "know" that there is a deceptive cadence there; I need to "understand" what purpose it serves within the musical discourse and relate this understanding to an aesthetic level. To understand its beauty, or its utility for artistic purposes, in short. For this reason as well, it seems obvious to me that Berlioz is talking about something he likes and, in romantic terms, is giving an almost metaphysical weight to this appreciation.

But let's be careful. One thing is to speak historically about these statements, contextualizing them; another is to take them as a model for addressing the discourse of value-non-value or diffusion-oblivion. If we leave everything at the level of taste, we can at most arrive at saying that there are many people without taste and few with taste. But if we put it on heavier levels, such as the mystic-metaphysical level or even a simple level of intelligence, we will arrive at saying that those who understand Beethoven are chosen by God (which is somewhat what Berlioz says) or that those who understand Beethoven are more intelligent than others.

Do we want to theorize the anthropological superiority of those who love and/or understand Beethoven? It always ends up there; we cannot help but say that we are superior...

I'll try to give my two cents. Perhaps "those who love" are different from "those who understand." How many are capable of understanding the Divine Comedy? Far more than conceiving it? I don't read superiority in this, but quite simply, I think that not all things ... are for everyone. And I am not just talking about music.

Frank wrote:

I don't know whether to insist, but I insist

I read

"The fact that such works remain inaccessible to the masses is perhaps a necessity"

Accessibility involves a different reasoning than taste; it's okay that, like many composers of the late 1900s, I could almost define myself as post-romantic (and I say post, not neo... eh!), but words have a meaning.

Berlioz speaks of intelligence, genius... all aspects that do not fall within the sphere of taste. In your opinion, is there anyone from a popular audience capable of understanding the Great Fugue? I ask because one often encounters professionals who still struggle with that kind of listening...

Whether Berlioz is also driven by an empathy with Beethoven's music or simply likes it is another matter. His words do not seem to me to involve taste.

Another question: in your opinion, a musician like Berio, who writes Sequenza III, don't you think that deep down he hides (or shows) the ambition to write something that says: "Now you can get to this..."?

Yes Frank, I understand your point of view, but excuse me if I insist on the need to contextualize the discussion. When Berlioz uttered those words, the theaters and salons where music was performed were frequented only by the bourgeoisie and the highest social classes: The people, that is, the proletariat and the sub-proletariat – because this is what must be discussed – and thus the vast majority of people could not access them and therefore could not know any of that music.

That audience Berlioz complains about is substantially the same – in terms of cultural and musical maturity – as twenty years earlier, at the performance of the Great Fugue, which hissed and harshly criticized the piece, to which Beethoven responded with a "Beasts, asses."

As I have already said elsewhere, today music – all music from Perotin to Berio – is available to anyone who wants to approach it, and thus anyone with a bit of inclination toward sonic matter can try to access it. This is the great difference, and I say this with good reason since I come from that people; I am a deeply ignorant person and yet, in my life, I have sought and still seek to shake some of it off.

If today I am able to listen to the Great Fugue and at the same time Berio's Sequenza III, it is only because I have – metaphorically – made my ears bleed and because I wanted to get there, to listen to and love all "art music" – excuse me if I continue to call it that.

danielescarpetti wrote:

If today I manage to listen to the Great Fugue and at the same time Berio's Sequenza III, it is only because I have – metaphorically – made my ears bleed and because I wanted to get there, to listen to and love all "art music –" – excuse me if I continue to call it that.

If you think about it carefully, that is the heart of the matter. I deduce that you are for "where there's a will, there's a way."

Frank wrote:

If you think about it carefully, that is the heart of the matter. I deduce that you are in favor of "where there's a will, there's a way"

Oh, yes, dear Frank, it is one of the phrases I say most often to my two children!

... evidently I "want" too little to "be able" to be like Gould or Pollini

I always say it too and I believe it deeply: wanting is equal to being able, but there are things that are not for everyone. Even if I studied for 6 lifetimes, I wouldn't be able to write the Divine Comedy... since it was mentioned.

Anyway, I understand and greatly share your point of view. The fact remains that, speaking personally, I know well that the more sophisticated the language I use, the more the number of those willing and capable of letting their ears bleed will diminish.

Clearly we are not talking about Beethoven here, but also in general… but if you think about it carefully… precisely contextualizing as you request, there are things that require a very broad collective sedimentation, so broad that music from Webern (inclusive) onwards requires, in many cases, a protective shield. I am talking about the masses and not the professionals, like me, you, etc.

I think there is no composer in the world who is not fundamentally narcissistic; his mission is to communicate, but he must also allow time for the peculiarities of his language to gradually penetrate the cultural context. A wide gap between his language and what has been "historicized" (forgive the exaggeration) decrees a failure (which is essentially what happened to structuralism), a failure because one writes for a single spectator… the only one seen in the mirror (which is also a hyperbole on narcissism). Practically, one plays for oneself and sings for oneself.

The number of listeners to whom a "message" can reach depends on how close it gets to the collective capacity to receive it… tendentially, nowadays, there are not many willing to let their ears bleed to listen to a piece, whether it was Beethoven in his time or Ferneyhough today...

An interesting but complex discussion...

... but you tell me...

“Where there's a will, there's a way,” while remaining mindful that each of us must be aware of our intellectual, cultural, physical, and so on, limits, to which we must all nonetheless submit.

Of Dante Alighieri, Leonardo, Michelangelo... Beethoven – he even shouted this to Prince Lichnowsky – there has been only one.

In the awareness, therefore, of my infinite limits, I know how far I can want to go... but I want to be able to get there.

Frank, I am not an expert; I am a simple consumer of music, art, literature, philosophy, etc., and as a consumer, I tell you that even though it is true that I am among those few listeners of contemporary music, this does not change the fact that the “constancy of reason” – as the writer Vasco Pratolini would have defined it – and thus the perseverance in the conviction that this is the right path, must never fail. Beethoven was completely aware that his music – especially his late music – would be for future generations. And just as he prophesied 50 years for his Hammerklavier to be understood – he was actually too optimistic – and that his Great Fugue would have to wait a century to be considered by someone like Stravinsky as: "the most perfect miracle in all of music," today's composers must be aware that their music will belong to future generations.

I don't have magic balls and I don't know what will be in a century, but I see that today the music of Webern and the Second Viennese School – which can now also be defined as classical – is making inroads among the ever-few young people who approach art music. It has taken less than a century, and perhaps in thirty years it will be completely assimilated.

Where will the future world go? A question that obviously cannot have an answer! I hope for my children and for the generations to come that it moves towards an ever-greater civilization and, civilization, dear Frank, is made above all of great culture.

All the interventions I have read so far seem interesting to me. In Frank's words, I sense the same Shakespearean conviction (which, by the way, I very much share) according to which one should distrust those who do not love music (and what kind of music, I would add). But of course Thallo is right: it is rather nonsensical to believe that the best people are only those who like Beethoven. Finally, it is impossible for me not to hold many of the same convictions as Daniele Scarpetti, especially the one according to which any eventual improvement in the human condition depends exclusively on greater civilization and thus on an ever-increasing capacity for respect among human beings.

For all these reasons, it is therefore difficult for me to understand the title of the discussion: why should a certain lack of dissemination of Beethoven's work constitute a necessity? Is it not rather a poverty, for which, to some extent and each in our own field, we are all somewhat responsible?

Thank you for your attention.

“Where there's a will, there's a way,” while remaining mindful that each of us must be aware of our intellectual, cultural,

physical limits and so on, to which we must all nonetheless submit.

I think we don't want to admit it ... but the music of the greats goes beyond limits; there is no use beating around the bush, and precisely because the invitation is to contextualize Berlioz's words in time. And indeed:

Beethoven was completely aware that his music – especially his late music – would be for future generations. And just as he prophesied 50 years for his Hammerklavier to be understood – he was actually too optimistic – and that his Great Fugue had to wait a century to be considered by someone like Stravinsky as: "the most perfect miracle in all of music," today's composers must be aware that their music will belong to future generations.

Alt! Stravinsky is an insider, ask the baker. The topic, to also respond to Otello, speaks of masses not by chance. Or rather, it is an excerpt from the thought of Berlioz that opened this my/our reflection, but who is he thinking about? So, let the local greengrocer say it. Always speaking with respect.

as a listener I tell you that although it is true that I am part of those few listeners of contemporary music, this does not change the fact that the “constancy of reason” - as the writer Vasco Pratolini would have defined it - and thus the perseverance in the conviction that this is the right path, must never fail.

Now I ask, to enjoy (I emphasize *enjoy*) art, must one struggle? Must I know in order to appreciate? Must I understand the mechanism to access that "learned" music? Then

I hope for my children and for the generations to come that it moves towards an ever-greater civilization and,

civilization, dear Frank, is made above all of great culture.

Here, certainly, there are no doubts about this and I strongly agree

But the more I reread your writings, the more it seems that you agree with Berlioz: if all listeners were highly cultured, we would have a learned people. And then learned music would be for everyone... but only for all those who satisfy this requirement. Here, now everything is clearer; the masses are not and have never been learned. When they will be (let's hope soon), then Berlioz's writing will lose its meaning...

Let's say that regarding potential, the argument holds up, but practically speaking ... I am looking around, I see it will be tough ...

What do you say in this regard?

I add

I don't have magic balls and I don't know what will be like in a century, but I see that today the music of Webern and the Second Viennese School – which can now also be defined as classical – is making inroads among the ever-few young people who approach learned music.

Neither do I, but a forecast can be made.

Schoenberg and Berg, yes, but Webern, no. The reason is simple: the latter laid the foundations for the aesthetics of the 1900s in the years following his music. He undermined and demolished the narrative course, the characteristic that allows music to be remembered; without this characteristic, it shouldn't be the ears bleeding, but the brain.

And Schoenberg, to avoid this problem, did not deviate much from tradition; yes, he changed the syntax, but in completely traditional forms and with an almost contrapuntal language and therefore well-established.

It has taken less than a century and perhaps in thirty years it will be completely assimilated.

Surely, I hope so, but I see the avant-garde experimentation of the 1950s/1990s as very far from this goal; it will probably remain confined to history books and will only be an object of analysis for scholars.

The twentieth century has accelerated many processes, including the fact that a genre of music survives or fails under its limits... referring to the masses. In my opinion, it is no coincidence that people stop at Berg and that musicians like Messiaen emerge at the expense of composers praised especially by the academic world, presumably learned (as it happens)."}

On the topic of bleeding ears...

my kitty went crazy listening to it...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PTiI1ztQJE

Pan Sonic are almost a classic by now

this must be listened to strictly at full volume, to enjoy the noise in the background

Open content (youtube)

Open content (youtube)

Open content (youtube)

Otello wrote:

All the interventions I have read so far seem interesting to me.

Interesting topic, I think it is normal that different viewpoints coexist, sustainable ones, depending on which side of the coin one looks at. Furthermore, I greatly admire Daniele, Thallo, for whom I write as if I were thinking out loud, precisely collecting the opinions of others on the matter.

Otello wrote:

For all these reasons, it is therefore difficult for me to understand the title of the discussion: why should a certain lack of dissemination of Beethoven's work ever constitute a necessity?

Is it not rather a poverty, for which, to some extent and each in our own field, we are all somewhat responsible?

As I was saying, it is more an excerpt of Berlioz's thought. Perhaps I will answer in my previous writing

Thallo, I will listen calmly, but since you use the adjective "mine", how do you classify yourself as a listener? And don't tell me about the masses ... because you wouldn't be honest.

I'm telling you this because I will interview my neighbors' family regarding the tracks you proposed... not experts and not cultured at all.

Don't forget to also classify your kitty, who I think is a bit out of category

You are right, Frank: the masses have never been cultured. I would add that those same masses have always been prone (and often used, in this sense) to generalizations. Which descend directly from the laziness of believing that, for some mysterious reason, living should only cost effort for others, not for us (which means for me, for you, for the masses). You correctly stated that composers wish to communicate much of themselves to others. I would add that they perhaps have a stroke of luck (talent, the desire to toil in study) that many others do not have. But is it then their luck, or rather is it more accurate to say that the benefit is primarily for those who enjoy their talent (this said en passant)?

Of course, therefore, composers wish to communicate. As we all do, for that matter. And both composers (as much as we) wish for their communication to be as extensive as possible, if only to satisfy their own narcissism. So there is no use beating around the bush: one communicates to seek out one's own kind. Whether they are few or many is a secondary matter. We human beings too often forget two very simple truths: the first is that we are destined to die; the second is that we evidently come from the infinite and that we will return to the infinite, which inevitably connects us to everything. Even to the masses. I dare believe that Beethoven perceived this fact like few others. Otherwise, he could not have given so much to us.

Greetings to everyone,

a Daniele Scarpetti and Armando Orlandi in particular (whom I already knew from Armando's previous site forum), but a «thank you!» to everyone for your thoughts and insights that I have been reading for a few days. This latest topic has encouraged me to share some reflections of my own.

When I read Thallo's comment on January 31st, stating that taste is not just a matter of "I like/I don't like" but should also be understood "as the ability to understand and receive the artistic element of something," a thought I had a few years ago came back to me.

That one should not discuss taste (tastes) is an imperative that leads nowhere: to no growth. Tastes must be discussed. With respect. Each of us, in an internal monologue, "discusses" their own tastes. It is true that the heart cannot be commanded. But this does not mean that "the head" does not have the right to ask "the heart" to give some sort of account (even without detailing) of its choices. I sometimes find myself asking what I find in that Corelli concerto (for example) that enchants me: what do I find there that I don't find in other pieces, or that I find with different nuances.

Sometimes one happens to be the most severe judge of oneself (at least, it has happened to me). Twenty years ago, I did not appreciate the Goldberg Variations, yet they are a masterpiece. Even the Diabelli variations, until four years ago, were not... so close to me. Yet they are a masterpiece, and yet I adore Beethoven... what was it that I didn't understand? What was wrong with me?

Is it not possible, in your opinion, that in the aesthetic relationship with a work of art (any kind, even non-musical), there is a factor of spiritual affinity? ... I think so.

Of course, a minimum of erudition in the subject helps, but it cannot be the guarantee of a "good marriage" (between the listener and the work in question). Someone who is able to "dissect" the Great Fugue op.133 at a formal, harmonic, and contrapuntal level is not necessarily... deeply moved by it.

I think there are experiences, life paths, perspectives (all things that each of us carries within and which are in continuous evolution) that, depending on whether they do or do not form part of our lived experience, allow or deny us a "cordial" relationship with a certain work (sometimes with the entire works of a composer, or of a certain era, or of a certain style). All this regardless of being able to recognize its historical value and internal dynamics at a structural level.

Taste (the enjoyment of a certain work) seems to me like a "spiritual harmony": sometimes it is there, sometimes it isn't, sometimes it can strike after years of misunderstanding, sometimes there is simply nothing to be done.

This very idea of mine, I seem to sense in Bernstein's words regarding the understanding of Mahler's music:

« (…) only now, after two world wars, after the barbarities perpetrated by Nazism and Communism, after the Holocaust, the Vietnam War and the massacre of the youth in China, here precisely after all this we are now truly able to listen to Mahler's music in a more conscious way, to understand its meaning and prophetic value. »

[L. Bernstein – E. Castiglione, Una vita per la musica – conversazioni, Ed. Pantheon, 2003, p. 124]

But the more I reread your writings, the more it seems that you agree with Berlioz: if all listeners were highly cultured, we would have a learned people. And then high culture music would be for everyone... but only for all those who satisfy this requirement. There, now everything is clearer: the masses are not and have never been learned. When they will be (let's hope soon), then Berlioz's writing will lose its meaning...

Dlet's say that regarding potential, the argument holds up, but practically speaking... I'm looking around, and I see it being difficult ...

What do you say in this regard? (Frank)

You are right, Frank: the masses have never been learned. I would add that the masses themselves have always been prone (and often used, in this sense) to generalizations. Which descend directly from the laziness of believing that, for some mysterious reason, living should cost effort only to others, not to us (which means for me, for you, for the masses). (...) So it is useless to beat around the bush: we communicate to seek out our own kind. Whether they are few or many is a secondary matter. We human beings too often forget two very simple truths: the first is that we are destined to die; the second is that we evidently come from the infinite and that we will return to the infinite, which inevitably connects us to everything. Even to the masses. I dare believe that Beethoven perceived this fact like few others. Otherwise, he could not have given so much to us (Otello)

Good morning Frank and first of all hello Otello, - I will dedicate myself to my dear friend Luca later, as he doesn't take offense - very nice to meet you virtually!

I think that the masses have always been deliberately kept in the deepest ignorance, and this is because power – any power – has its own interest in it being so. It is therefore not a question of laziness: over the centuries, the masses have had to endure struggles of a completely different magnitude, much more humiliating and unjust.

The masses were never allowed access to culture; however, this happened, come what may, with the twentieth century, with the triumph of technology on one hand and, on the other, of

RIGHT.

The great German poet Friedrich Hölderlin, a poet much loved by Beethoven who studied him extensively in composing the Pastoral Symphony, wrote in September 1793 these words that could also have been Beethoven's and which, even today, two centuries later, have, from my point of view, a truly exceptional value: « My heart is for the human race (...) I love the people of the centuries to come, Because this is my sweetest hope, the faith that gives me strength and industriousness, that our descendants will be better than us. (...) We live in an era in which everything works for better days (...) This is the sacred term of my desires and my activity: to awaken in our time the seeds that will reach maturity in the future. »

Stravinsky is an insider, ask the baker (Frank)

It sometimes happens to be one's own harshest judge (at least, it happened to me). Twenty years ago I did not appreciate the Goldberg Variations, and yet they are a masterpiece. Even the Diabelli until four years ago were not... so close to me. And yet they are a masterpiece, and yet I adore Beethoven... what was it that I didn't understand? What was wrong with me?

Is it not possible, in your opinion, that in the aesthetic relationship with a work of art (any kind, even non-musical), there is a factor of spiritual affinity? . . . I think so.

Of course, a minimum of erudition in the subject helps, but it cannot be the guarantee of a “good marriage” (between the listener and the work in question). One who is able to “dissect” the Great Fugue op.133 at a formal, harmonic, and contrapuntal level is not necessarily... deeply touched by it.

I think there are experiences, life paths, perspectives (all things that each of us carries within and that are in continuous evolution) which, depending on whether they do or do not form part of our lived experience, allow or deny us a “cordial” relationship with a certain work (sometimes with the entire work of a composer, or of a certain era, or of a certain style). All this regardless of being able to recognize its historical value and internal dynamics at a structural level. (Luca)

Luca, my dear friend, I knew it – I hoped so! - that you would arrive; here you will find yourself in EXCELLENT COMPANY.

I have brought these two parts of your discussions together because you, Luca, are already responding to Frank's statement.

Dear and most esteemed Frank, Luca is not the baker but he is a boy – um, now he isn't anymore to tell the truth - who like me came up from nothing and yet, unlike me, became a pianist and is proof of how a young boy who does not have a musical culture behind him can, through his own will – only that – gradually approach great music.

But he will speak for himself if he wishes.

Given that it is true that Stravinsky is an insider, but so too was that Tovey who in 1911 – which is just a few decades before – judged the Great Fugue as « unplayable », the baker, if you will, is me. Or rather, I am the farmer, the laborer, the manual worker... and everything else you want, who however, despite not studying at all in school – and this is also to answer Claudio on what I thought and think of school - because I have always been an “against” person, I would then lock myself in the library or study history, arts, literature, and philosophy from extra-curricular texts.

If today someone like me, who is nothing particularly special, can love the music of Monteverdi as much as that of Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Wagner, Verdi, Webern, Stravinsky, Nono, Berio, Boulez, - I apologize for the countless unmentioned ones - it means that this is within the possibilities, I don't say of everyone, but certainly of many.

It has taken less than a century and perhaps in thirty years it will be completely assimilated. (Daniele)

Certainly, I hope so, but I see the avant-garde experimentation of the 1950s/1990s as being very far from this goal; it will probably remain confined to history books and will only be an object of analysis for scholars.

The twentieth century has accelerated many processes, including the fact that a genre of music survives or succumbs under its limits... referring to the masses. In my opinion, it is no coincidence that we stop at Berg and that musicians like Messiaen emerge at the expense of composers praised especially by the academic world, presumably cultured (as it happens).

I want to be discreetly optimistic about this too. On October 6th, in Venice, the Golden Lion for lifetime achievement was presented to the composer and conductor Pierre Boulez, now the last among the living composers of what was defined as the Darmstadt Avant-Garde. This distinguished recognition, albeit late, comes to reward one of the greatest composers of the twentieth century and, probably today, the greatest.

living - I say this with respect towards all other composers -. On that evening, Boulez's "Incises" of 1994 for piano and "sur Incises" for 3 pianos, 3 harps and three percussion instruments from 1996 were performed, where the masterful art of sonic transformation, very typical of the French composer, is fully brought to light.

I think, dear Frank, that things are moving and that "common sense" and "right reason" will have to triumph, sooner or later, and that even these great composers will have the place that rightfully belongs to them in the field of music history.