George Rochberg, RIP


Few months ago, Saul Bellow, America's greatest living novelist, passed away at age 89. This week the man who may very well have been America's greatest living composer has now left us. Rochberg was 86.

Rochberg's importance as a composer goes well beyond the quality of his works. He, more than any other American composer, helped regain respectability for tonal and neo-romantic art music. Rochberg had begun his compositional career as a member of the serial avant-garde. By 1960, he was considered in many circles as the foremost serial composer in America. But Rochberg's "atonal" serial music was somewhat different than that of other more belligerent serial composers like Roger Sessions, for instance. Rochberg tried very hard to make his serial music accessible. He was always seeking to communicate with the general classical music public. His Second Symphony is remarkable listenable, considering its rigorous twelve-tone composition. In the sixties, however, he found it increasingly difficult to express himself within the narrow boundaries of serialism. He complained that Schoenberg's twelve-tone method of composition inevitably led to "expressionism"—i.e., dark, foreboding, sinister and even neurotic music. After the loss of his son, who died after a long illness, he couldn't compose exclusively under the Schoenbergian method any more. His compositions gradually became more and more tonal, until, in the slow movement of his massive Third Quartet, he composed unabashedly diatonic music, beautiful and consoling.

This slow movement caused something of a scandal among the avant-garde establishment. It was one thing to move toward tonality, but to write music of traditional tonal harmony was to go beyond the pale. Although Rochberg continued to write music that contained difficult "modern" harmony, his willingness to also use traditional harmony—in other words, to make use of the harmonies most suitable for what he wished to express—made him something of a pioneer among the musical fraternity. But by the eighties, the music world began to turn in Rochberg's direction. Tonality and "neo-romanticism" became fashionable once again.

Rochberg, like nearly all composers of the second half of the twentieth century, was not a particularly inspired melodist. Yet his music, which exemplifies what he called "hard romanticism," or a romanticism that shows great ingenuity and integrity, never fails to make its point. His Violin Concerto, recently recorded by Naxos, is in many ways an extraordinary work. When it was premiered by Isaac Stern at Carneige Hall in New York, ticket goers lined up for blocks. The work runs the gamut of harmonic devices, from the opening violin melody—a harsh, angular theme—to the hauntingly beautiful conclusion.

Although there are several talented composers of younger generations out there (most notably, Jay Aaron Kernis and Jennifer Higdon), no one can quite match the stature of Rochberg. He will be missed.

Posted: Tue - June 7, 2005 at 10:19 AM          

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