Unidad 5: Romántico

Samson, Jim. 2000. Romanticism. The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians.

Romanticismo.

Un movi­mien­to o, más común­men­te, un perío­do de his­to­ria cul­tu­ral. Com­pren­di­do como perío­do, el roman­ti­cis­mo es iden­ti­fi­ca­do usual­men­te con la pri­me­ra mitad o todo el siglo XIX. El tér­mino es usa­do en refe­ren­cia prin­ci­pal­men­te a las artes, pero pue­de abar­car filo­so­fía, his­to­ria socio polí­ti­ca y, más amplia­men­te, el ‘espí­ri­tu’ de la épo­ca.

En lite­ra­tu­ra el roman­ti­cis­mo común­men­te se con­si­de­ra que cubre la pri­me­ra mitad del siglo XIX, aun­que los orí­ge­nes filo­só­fi­cos del movi­mien­to están bien den­tro del siglo ante­rior. El roman­ti­cis­mo lite­ra­rio tomó su for­ma defi­ni­ti­va a fin del siglo XVIII en los escri­tos polé­mi­cos y crea­ti­vos de los her­ma­nos Schle­gel y su círcu­lo en Ale­ma­nia, y a prin­ci­pios del siglo XIX por Words­worth y Cole­rid­ge en Ingla­te­rra, y Lamar­ti­ne y Hugo en Fran­cia. Usual­men­te se acep­ta que los ras­gos román­ti­cos siguie­ron ejer­cien­do su influen­cia des­pués de la mitad del siglo, pero como perío­do el tér­mino ‘Roman­ti­cis­mo’ da lugar en ese pun­to al ‘Rea­lis­mo’ y al ‘Sim­bo­lis­mo’, movi­mien­tos aso­cia­dos ini­cial­men­te con escri­to­res fran­ce­ses. Los his­to­ria­do­res de las artes visua­les con­ven­cio­nal­men­te han adop­ta­do una cro­no­lo­gía amplia­men­te simi­lar, iden­ti­fi­can­do a román­ti­cos tem­pra­nos como Géri­cault y Dela­croix en Fran­cia, Tur­ner en Ingla­te­rra y Cas­par David Frie­drich en Ale­ma­nia, y nue­va­men­te con­si­de­ran que el ímpe­tu román­ti­co ini­cial se dis­per­sa lue­go de la mitad del siglo (1863 es una fecha cla­ve, con la muer­te de Dela­croix y el Salon des refu­sés). En músi­ca, sin embar­go, el movi­mien­to román­ti­co fre­cuen­te­men­te se colo­ca un tan­to más tar­de, comen­zan­do en la era post-Beet­ho­ven (c1830) y con­ti­nuan­do a prin­ci­pios del siglo XX, aun­que algu­nos his­to­ria­do­res usan expre­sio­nes como ‘román­ti­co tar­dío’ y ‘neo-román­ti­co’ para des­cri­bir las últi­mas eta­pas de este perío­do.

Mucho antes de su apro­pia­ción por escri­to­res tar­díos del siglo XVIII para defi­nir un movi­mien­to en arte, el adje­ti­vo ‘román­ti­co’ ya tenía un sig­ni­fi­ca­do deci­si­vo. Tomó su nom­bre de la anti­gua lin­gua roma­na de Fran­cia, y de lite­ra­tu­ras roman­ce deri­va­das, espe­cial­men­te ‘roman­ces’ tan­to en ver­so como en pro­sa (por ejem­plo, de Car­lo­magno y de la penín­su­la ibé­ri­ca). En el siglo XVII el tér­mino fue adop­ta­do, ini­cial­men­te en Ingla­te­rra, para des­cri­bir el tono o el carác­ter de esas lite­ra­tu­ras, defi­ni­do por la opo­si­ción a lo real, lo con­cre­to, lo pre­de­ci­ble y lo racio­nal. A media­dos del siglo XVIII tan­to la evo­ca­ción espe­cí­fi­ca de una heren­cia medie­val idea­li­za­da y una adop­ción gene­ra­li­za­da de lo irra­cio­nal, lo fan­tás­ti­co y la libre ima­gi­na­ción fue­ron sig­ni­fi­ca­dos fuer­te­men­te esta­ble­ci­dos de la pala­bra en Ingla­te­rra y Fran­cia. La intro­duc­ción del tér­mino como una eti­que­ta lite­ra­ria es atri­bui­da gene­ral­men­te a escri­to­res ale­ma­nes, en par­ti­cu­lar Frie­drich Schle­gel en sus con­tri­bu­cio­nes a Das Athe­näum, fun­da­do en 1798, Jean Paul en su Vors­chu­le der Äst­he­tik de 1804, y August Schle­gel en sus lec­cio­nes Über dra­ma­tis­che Kunst un Lit­te­ra­tur de 1809-11, don­de la espon­ta­nei­dad del roman­ce medie­val es con­tras­ta­da favo­ra­ble­men­te con la tra­di­ción clá­si­ca (fran­ce­sa) limi­ta­da por las reglas. Debe des­ta­car­se que den­tro de algu­nos sis­te­mas filo­só­fi­cos del siglo XIX, par­ti­cu­lar­men­te el de Hegel, se con­si­de­ra que el ‘Perío­do Román­ti­co’ abar­ca las artes de toda esta era, des­de la edad media has­ta el siglo XIX.

Las apli­ca­cio­nes en músi­ca siguie­ron a las lite­ra­rias, aun­que hay algu­nas refe­ren­cias ais­la­das a fin del siglo XVIII, como en las Mémoi­res de Gréty de 1789. Efec­ti­va­men­te, a lo lar­go de sus Mémoi­res, el len­gua­je de Gréty ya es el del idea­lis­mo román­ti­co: sólo a tra­vés de la sen­si­bi­li­dad a la poe­sía y la sin­to­ni­za­ción con las ver­da­des inter­nas de las emo­cio­nes el com­po­si­tor podrá lle­gar a la gran­de­za, a la ‘genia­li­dad’. El tex­to de Gréty es de algún inte­rés, no sólo por­que ofre­ce una pers­pec­ti­va mar­ca­da­men­te fran­ce­sa sobre un tema que sería domi­na­do por el pen­sa­mien­to ale­mán (favo­re­cía la músi­ca dra­má­ti­ca por sobre la ins­tru­men­tal y daba prio­ri­dad a la melo­día por sobre la armo­nía), pero tam­bién por su obvia y reco­no­ci­da deu­da con Rous­seau, esta­ble­ce una cone­xión musi­cal direc­ta con una de las mayo­res influen­cias del movi­mien­to román­ti­co en gene­ral. La creen­cia de Rous­seau en que el artis­ta debe aspi­rar, a tra­vés de la espon­ta­nei­dad de la expre­sión, hacia una dig­ni­dad del ‘hom­bre natu­ral’ dejó su mar­ca tan­to en Goet­he como en Schi­ller, y tuvo par­te en la for­ma­ción del héroe román­ti­co (usual­men­te trá­gi­co) de la lite­ra­tu­ra en gene­ral. Uno pue­de ver a la nove­la Die Lei­den des jun­gen Wet­hers (1774) de Goet­he como una obra ejem­plar en este aspect, que atra­jo a la ima­gi­na­ción de com­po­si­to­res tan­to como de escri­to­res. Rous­seau tam­bién ins­pi­ró la idea­li­za­ción de la natu­ra­le­za y de lo ‘folk’ que tuvo una impor­tan­te dimen­sión en el roman­ti­cis­mo tem­prano, nota­ble­men­te en Her­der. Aquí tam­bién hubo una reso­nan­cia musi­cal y un par­ti­cu­lar inte­rés en las can­cio­nes fol­kló­ri­cas a fin del siglo XVIII, con nota­bles con­se­cuen­cias para el desa­rro­llo del lied. Los escri­tos espe­cí­fi­cos de Rous­seau sobre músi­ca tam­bién tuvie­ron una mar­ca­da influen­cia. En varias entra­das de su Dic­tion­nai­re de musi­que (sobre el ‘genio’, lo ‘paté­ti­co’, ‘expre­sión’ y espe­cial­men­te ‘imi­ta­ción’), dio un paso más allá de lo afec­ti­vo hacia la expre­sión esté­ti­ca, cele­bran­do el poder elu­si­vo y suges­ti­vo de la músi­ca de una mane­ra que se ale­ja sig­ni­fi­ca­ti­va­men­te del pen­sa­mien­to clá­si­co.

Una apli­ca­ción más sos­te­ni­da del tér­mino ‘román­ti­co’ a la músi­ca espe­ra­ba la exten­sa crí­ti­ca de E.T.A Hoff­mann a la Quin­ta Sin­fo­nía de Beet­ho­ven (1810), jun­to con su sub­se­cuen­te artícu­lo sobre la músi­ca ins­tru­men­tal de Beet­ho­ven (1813). Estos ensa­yos son impor­tan­tes por­que sin­te­ti­zan aspec­tos ya exis­ten­tes de la teo­ría román­ti­ca, los trans­fie­ren a la esfe­ra musi­cal, y pro­fe­ti­zan que la músi­ca debe ser vis­ta como el arte román­ti­co supre­mo. El con­cep­to de crea­ti­vi­dad adop­ta­do por Hoff­mann ya era fami­liar a par­tir de los her­ma­nos Schle­gel y fue com­par­ti­do por una gene­ra­ción más joven de escri­to­res ale­ma­nes, como Lud­wig Tieck, Wil­helm Wac­ken­ro­der y Jean Paul. Sobre todo, el con­cep­to des­ta­ca­ba el pri­vi­le­gio asig­na­do al genio crea­ti­vo indi­vi­dual. Las carac­te­rís­ti­cas que habían sido atri­bui­das al arte en gene­ral en la esté­ti­ca filo­só­fi­ca de fin del siglo XVIII – su capa­ci­dad para acce­der a un plano más allá de lo real (carac­te­ri­za­do de diver­sas mane­ras como lo tras­cen­den­tal, lo inex­pre­sa­ble o lo infi­ni­to), su poder de des­per­tar las emo­cio­nes más fuer­tes y su valor como un modo intui­ti­vo de cono­cer el mun­do – fue­ron par­ti­cu­la­ri­za­das, refi­rién­do­las al crea­dor indi­vi­dual la (‘gran’ y ori­gi­nal) obra de arte. Es más, estas carac­te­rís­ti­cas fue­ron aso­cia­das espe­cí­fi­ca­men­te a la poten­cia de la ima­gi­na­ción crea­ti­va. Esta visión o mun­do de ensue­ño del artis­ta román­ti­co, cono­ci­da y esté­ti­ca­men­te uni­fi­ca­da por su genio, le daría al res­to de la huma­ni­dad un cono­ci­mien­to pri­vi­le­gia­do de la reali­dad. Debe des­ta­car­se la noción de uni­fi­ca­ción, ya que Hoff­mann apo­ya­ba su esté­ti­ca con deta­lla­das des­crip­cio­nes téc­ni­cas que aho­ra podría­mos des­cri­bir como ana­lí­ti­cas.

En la apli­ca­ción de estas ideas a Beet­ho­ven, y tam­bién como anti­ci­po a Haydn y Mozart, Hoff­mann reunió a pun­tos de vis­ta tan­to de la crí­ti­ca como de la filo­so­fía: fusio­nó las ideas que ya esta­ban aso­cia­das con el tér­mino ‘román­ti­co’, espe­cial­men­te como eran usa­das por los escri­to­res ale­ma­nes más jóve­nes de comien­zos del 1800 para sig­ni­fi­car una opo­si­ción a las res­tric­cio­nes de los mode­los clá­si­cos, con una ten­den­cia (común a varios escri­tos filo­só­fi­cos, aun­que diver­sa­men­te con­si­de­ra­do como una debi­li­dad o una for­ta­le­za) para cla­si­fi­car a la músi­ca como el arte prin­ci­pal de las emo­cio­nes. Esta con­jun­ción abrió el camino para una idea pode­ro­sa del siglo 19: la pre­emi­nen­cia de la músi­ca, y en con­cre­to de la músi­ca ins­tru­men­tal o ‘abso­lu­ta’. (Vale la pena aña­dir que esta idea, cen­tral en el pen­sa­mien­to ale­mán y la músi­ca ale­ma­na, jugó un papel más peri­fé­ri­co en las cul­tu­ras no ale­ma­nas). Así fue, pre­ci­sa­men­te, la inde­pen­den­cia de músi­ca de la refe­ren­cia, su cali­dad, inefa­ble, incog­nos­ci­ble y sin ima­gen, lo que le dio un acce­so pri­vi­le­gia­do al ‘mara­vi­llo­sa, infi­ni­to reino del espí­ri­tu’. Esta idea ten­dría su expre­sión filo­só­fi­ca más explí­ci­ta den­tro del sis­te­ma de Scho­pen­hauer, don­de la músi­ca, como el úni­co arte no figu­ra­ti­vo, habla direc­ta­men­te del mun­do nou­mé­ni­co (a dife­ren­cia del feno­mé­ni­co). Pero mucho antes de que el impac­to del tra­ba­jo semi­nal de Scho­pen­hauer fue total­men­te regis­tra­do (en la segun­da mitad del siglo 19), la músi­ca había lle­ga­do a ser vis­ta, por lo menos den­tro de una impor­tan­te línea de pen­sa­mien­to ale­mán, como la esen­cia del roman­ti­cis­mo. Schu­mann, por ejem­plo, dijo que «es difí­cil­men­te creí­ble que una escue­la román­ti­ca dis­tin­ta podría for­mar­se en la músi­ca, que es en sí román­ti­ca ‘.

Lla­ma la aten­ción que Hoff­mann des­cri­bió como com­po­si­to­res román­ti­cos no sólo a Beet­ho­ven, sino tam­bién a Mozart y en menor medi­da Haydn. En otras pala­bras, él iden­ti­fi­có ten­den­cias román­ti­cas de la músi­ca de fina­les del siglo XVIII, en para­le­lo en lugar de en suce­sión a las ten­den­cias com­pa­ra­bles en la lite­ra­tu­ra. Esto se ajus­ta­ba a un uso gene­ral del tér­mino de alre­de­dor de 1800. En el mis­mo año de la famo­sa crí­ti­ca de la quin­ta sin­fo­nía de Hoff­mann, por ejem­plo, Johann Reichardt des­cri­bía a Haydn y Mozart como com­po­si­to­res román­ti­cos. Y algu­nos años más tar­de Goet­he con­fir­mó este uso median­te la des­crip­ción de una antí­te­sis del arte clá­si­co y román­ti­co, que se carac­te­ri­za en tér­mi­nos de ten­den­cias ‘obje­ti­vas’ y ‘sub­je­ti­vas’, res­pec­ti­va­men­te. De mane­ra sig­ni­fi­ca­ti­va, su des­crip­ción del Roman­ti­cis­mo ( ‘la nue­va esen­cia fan­tás­ti­ca … el deseo y la inquie­tud, esta­llan­do todos los lími­tes y per­dién­do­se en el infi­ni­to’) se basó en la músi­ca con­tem­po­rá­nea (Beet­ho­ven), así como en la lite­ra­tu­ra con­tem­po­rá­nea (Schi­ller). En este tipo de polé­mi­cas prin­ci­pios del siglo XIX el roman­ti­cis­mo se iden­ti­fi­có cla­ra­men­te como un movi­mien­to con­cu­rren­te con el cla­si­cis­mo en lugar de como un perío­do suce­si­vo.

The idea that Mozart as well as Beet­ho­ven might be regar­ded as a Roman­tic remai­ned current to around the 1840s, at which point a chan­ge in the unders­tan­ding of Roman­ti­cism seems to have occu­rred, allo­wing it to emer­ge as a defi­na­ble period term in somet­hing like the modern sen­se. This pers­pec­ti­ve shar­pe­ned sub­se­quently in the mea­su­re that the Vien­ne­se ‘clas­sics’ beca­me lite­rally that, with all the Helle­nis­tic con­no­ta­tions. The for­ma­tion of a clas­si­cal canon – a cen­tral the­me of 19th-cen­tury music his­tory – carried with it the coro­llary that modern, ‘Roman­tic’ music defi­ned itself increa­singly through its sepa­ra­tion from a Clas­si­cal gol­den age, though the posi­tion of Beet­ho­ven remai­ned pur­po­se­fully ambi­va­lent wit­hin this chro­no­logy. Nor is it a coin­ci­den­ce that the modern sen­se of a Roman­tic period crys­ta­lli­zed around the midd­le of the 19th cen­tury, just when bour­geo­is musi­cal life in Euro­pe was sta­bi­li­zing into ins­ti­tu­tions expressly desig­ned to pro­mo­te a vali­da­ting reper­tory of clas­si­cal music. An early sug­ges­tion that the­re might be a real divi­sion bet­ween Clas­si­cal and Roman­tic periods is found in Karl August Kah­lert, who (in 1848) des­cri­bed Mozart as ‘the most truly Clas­si­cal of all com­po­sers’ and Beet­ho­ven as ‘a Roman­tic com­po­ser’, who­se ‘tre­men­do­us hold over the minds of his con­tem­po­ra­ries’ pro­vi­ded the means by which ‘music’s Roman­ti­cism made its pre­sen­ce felt’. Kahlert’s pro­po­sal that Beet­ho­ven inau­gu­ra­ted a ‘Roman­tic era’ already approa­ches modern usa­ge, even if his later remarks sug­gest that he had by no means lost sight of an ear­lier unders­tan­ding of the term: ‘The con­trast bet­ween the Clas­si­cal and the Roman­tic will none the less con­ti­nue, Clas­si­cal com­po­sers being more inter­es­ted in the for­mal struc­tu­re of music, Roman­tic com­po­sers in free, untram­me­lled expres­sion’.

It was later in the 19th cen­tury, when music his­tory was sub­jec­ted to the qua­si-scien­ti­fic study of sty­les, notably in the work of Gui­do Adler, that a clea­ner sepa­ra­tion of Clas­si­cal and Roman­tic periods was pro­po­sed. Adler was a key figu­re in the emer­gent dis­ci­pli­ne of Musik­wis­sens­chaft, and as that dis­ci­pli­ne con­gea­led into esta­blis­hed the­mes and cate­go­ries the divi­sion of his­tory into sty­le periods was to a degree for­ma­li­zed. For Adler the Roman­tic move­ment crys­ta­lli­zed (or achie­ved full matu­rity, to adopt his own orga­nic model) in the post-Beet­ho­ven gene­ra­tion of Cho­pin, Schu­mann, Ber­lioz and Liszt. Beet­ho­ven and Schu­bert were vie­wed as ‘transitio­nal’ but lin­ked essen­tially to so-called Vien­ne­se Clas­si­cism. From this pers­pec­ti­ve (posi­tio­ned around 1900), the com­po­sers of the New Ger­man School, toget­her with seve­ral lea­ding com­po­sers from late 19th-cen­tury natio­na­list schools, were clas­si­fied not as Roman­tics but as ‘moderns’ or even in some cases as ‘rea­lists’, and that view remai­ned lar­gely intact until the uphea­vals of the early years of the 20th cen­tury cast new light on their achie­ve­ments. 20th-cen­tury music his­to­rians have wave­red bet­ween 1790 and 1830 as star­ting-points of Roman­ti­cism, and have often refi­ned the chro­no­logy by iden­tif­ying late 18th-cen­tury move­ments such as Sturm und Drang and Emp­find­sam­keit – in C.P.E. Bach, Haydn and Mozart – as ‘pre-Roman­tic’. Inevi­tably, too, they have recon­si­de­red the clas­si­fi­ca­tion of late 19th-cen­tury music. Pro­bably the most com­mon ten­dency (as, for ins­tan­ce, in Alfred Eins­tein and Donald Grout) has been to regard the radi­cal chan­ges in musi­cal syn­tax of the early 1900s as a natu­ral cae­su­ra, and thus to extend the Roman­tic period through to the first deca­de of the 20th cen­tury, at which point it may be unders­tood to give way to Moder­nism.

The­re are, howe­ver, two sig­ni­fi­cant variants of this model. Seve­ral his­to­rians (Paul Henry Lang, Peter Rum­men­hö­ller and Carl Dahl­haus among them) have been anxious to draw a line bet­ween the two hal­ves of the 19th cen­tury, and have emplo­yed such terms as ‘Neo-Roman­ti­cism’ to des­cri­be its second half. An old guard of Roman­tic com­po­sers died or stop­ped com­po­sing around the midd­le of the cen­tury (Cho­pin, Men­dels­sohn, Schu­mann), and a new, very dif­fe­rent gene­ra­tion came to matu­rity (Brahms, Bruck­ner, Franck). For both Liszt and Wag­ner, moreo­ver, the mid-cen­tury sig­na­lled new crea­ti­ve direc­tions, with impor­tant con­se­quen­ces for the wider world of music. Accor­ding to this view, arti­cu­la­ted most for­ce­fully by Rum­men­hö­ller, the hey­day of musi­cal Roman­ti­cism lay in the 1830s and 40s. Follo­wing the mid-cen­tury the­re was a dis­tinct chan­ge of tone – a new and often self­cons­cious wor­king-out of the ideals of Roman­ti­cism, an ear­nest preoc­cu­pa­tion with forms, sys­tems and theo­ries, and at times too an anti-sub­jec­ti­vism remo­te from the exu­be­ran­ce and spon­ta­neity of the ear­lier move­ment.

The second variant (asso­cia­ted abo­ve all with Frie­drich Blu­me) iden­ti­fies a sin­gle Clas­sic-Roman­tic era reaching back into the 18th cen­tury and exten­ding well into the 20th. To some extent this view seeks to reco­ver somet­hing of the early 19th-cen­tury sen­se of the term as a move­ment or ten­dency run­ning con­cu­rrently with Clas­si­cism. It is stri­king, moreo­ver, that even the pat­terns of more recent, pre-World War II music his­tory (expres­sio­nism, neo-Clas­si­cism) can be absor­bed com­for­tably wit­hin Blume’s lar­ger sche­me.

The term ‘Roman­ti­cism’, whet­her unders­tood as a move­ment or as a period, has thus noto­riously resis­ted synop­tic defi­ni­tion. Its stu­dents have pre­fe­rred lengthy typo­lo­gies of Roman­tic cha­rac­te­ris­tics, regis­te­ring their con­tra­dic­tions as well as their simi­la­ri­ties, and in seve­ral cases citing con­tra­dic­to­ri­ness as itself a defi­ning fea­tu­re. Yet, as Lilian Furst has argued, such typo­lo­gies are as dan­ge­rous as they may be help­ful. The prin­ci­pal dan­ger is that the effects will obs­cu­re, or even be mis­ta­ken for, the cau­ses. It is per­haps best to avoid defi­ni­tion alto­get­her, and to begin rat­her with con­text, so that pri­mary cau­ses may be at least partly revea­led. Such an approach would regard Roman­ti­cism as the coun­ter­part wit­hin ima­gi­na­ti­ve cul­tu­re to the rise of poli­ti­cal libe­ra­lism (given radi­cal expres­sion in an age of revo­lu­tion) and to the para­llel invest­ment in sub­jec­ti­vity wit­hin phi­lo­sop­hi­cal sys­tems, notably tho­se of Kant and his suc­ces­sors wit­hin Ger­man idea­list thought, Fich­te and Sche­lling. Abo­ve all, Roman­ti­cism sha­red with the­se deve­lop­ments in poli­ti­cal and inte­llec­tual his­tory the inven­tion or re-inven­tion of the indi­vi­dual as a potent enabling for­ce. Indeed, this focus on the indi­vi­dual – on the self – takes us clo­se to one of two ‘essen­tial’ mea­nings of Roman­ti­cism. The Roman­tic artist, pri­vi­le­ged by his genius, would reveal the world in expres­sing him­self, sin­ce the world (accor­ding to the influen­tial posi­tion esta­blis­hed by Kant) was groun­ded in the self. Hen­ce the gro­wing impor­tan­ce of expres­sion as a sour­ce of aest­he­tic value, ove­rri­ding the claims of for­mal pro­priety and con­ven­tion. Music in par­ti­cu­lar was vie­wed as a medium of expres­sion abo­ve all else, and cru­cially its power of expres­sion was at the same time a form of cog­ni­tion, albeit one pre­ca­riously poi­sed bet­ween sen­sory per­cep­tion and inte­llec­tual unders­tan­ding, bet­ween sen­sus and ratio.

Undoub­tedly the French Revo­lu­tion and its after­math crea­ted the con­di­tions in which this pre­ten­sion might be sus­tai­ned. As music (like art in gene­ral) disen­ga­ged itself increa­singly from exis­ting social ins­ti­tu­tions, com­po­sers were incli­ned – if not always able – to ‘make their own sta­te­ment’. It is not dif­fi­cult to see why Beet­ho­ven should have acqui­red such an exem­plary sta­tus for the Roman­tic gene­ra­tion in this res­pect. Even if his poli­ti­cal com­mit­ment was to a gene­ra­li­zed, abs­tract and uto­pian notion of liberty, it was not somet­hing super­im­po­sed on his acti­vity as a com­po­ser, but a sha­ping fac­tor of that acti­vity. As a com­mit­ted or enga­ged artist, he pro­mo­ted – and bequeat­hed to the later 19th cen­tury – an increa­singly influen­tial view of music as a dis­cour­se of ideas as much as an object of beauty. His directly ideo­lo­gi­cal moti­va­tion easily trans­cen­ded ear­lier attem­pts to express the poli­tics of libe­ra­lism through music, and might be com­pa­red rat­her to the ‘social Roman­ti­cism’ which for­med a sig­ni­fi­cant strand of early 19th-cen­tury lite­ra­tu­re. For later com­po­sers, that moti­va­tion was increa­singly dif­fi­cult to sus­tain, espe­cially in the after­math of the 1848 revo­lu­tions. Yet even when it was eit­her lost to for­ma­lism (Brahms, Bruck­ner) or dif­fu­sed into auto­bio­graphy and metaphy­sics (Ber­lioz, Mah­ler), it left its tra­ce in the ambi­tion and pre­ten­sion of the musi­cal work, its quest for an epic sta­tus.

This invo­kes a second essen­tial mea­ning of Roman­ti­cism, one that gene­ra­tes con­si­de­ra­ble ten­sion with the first. It might be des­cri­bed as an invest­ment in the self-con­tai­ned, clo­sed work of art. The­re was a gro­wing ten­dency to regard musi­cal works in par­ti­cu­lar as monads, con­tai­ning their own mea­ning rat­her than exem­plif­ying a gen­re, arti­cu­la­ting a sty­le or con­fir­ming an ins­ti­tu­tion. Moreo­ver, this ‘work con­cept’, itself a pro­duct of the gro­wing auto­nomy of the aest­he­tic, resul­ted in a sig­ni­fi­cant chan­ge of focus in the rela­tion bet­ween art and the world, as mime­sis (imi­ta­tion) made way for what has been ter­med an ‘ideo­logy of orga­ni­cism’. Through the crea­tion of mona­dic, orga­ni­cally uni­fied works, art was pre­su­med to pro­ject an idea­li­zed ima­ge of what the world is or, more per­ti­nently, of what it might beco­me. And ‘abso­lu­te’ music, free of any obvious repre­sen­ta­tio­nal capa­city, was espe­cially well pla­ced to bear the bur­den of this mea­ning.

Seve­ral mani­fes­ta­tions of the­se two cen­tral facets of the Roman­tic ideo­logy are appa­rent in early 19th-cen­tury music. Under pres­su­re of a power­ful indi­vi­dua­lism, the­re was a chan­ge in the natu­re and role of vir­tuo­sity, for ins­tan­ce. The bra­vu­ra sty­les of such post-Clas­si­cal com­po­sers as Hum­mel and Weber, inti­ma­tely lin­ked to the rise of the public con­cert, acqui­red new layers of mea­ning under the weight of Roman­tic indi­vi­dua­lism. The career and recep­tion of Paga­ni­ni is one obvious exam­ple of this. But an even more potent archety­pe of the trans­for­ma­tion of post-Clas­si­cal into Roman­tic vir­tuo­sity was the recom­po­si­tion by Liszt of his 1826 Etu­de en dou­ze exer­ci­ses, first as the Dou­ze gran­des étu­des of 1837 and then as the Dou­ze étu­des d’exécution trans­cen­dan­te of 1851. The second set in par­ti­cu­lar exhi­bi­ted the vir­tuo­so as Roman­tic hero, ‘over­co­ming’ his ins­tru­ment in a power­ful sym­bol of trans­cen­den­ce. The third set sus­tai­ned this posi­tion, but at the same time threa­te­ned to dis­pla­ce it by pro­po­sing the com­po­ser (rat­her than the vir­tuo­so) as hero. Moreo­ver, Liszt’s revi­sions at this third sta­ge sup­por­ted a set of newly intro­du­ced poe­tic titles, dra­wing sug­ges­ti­vely on Hugo, medie­val roman­ce, the cult of natu­re and the dream-world of the artist.

This use of poe­tic titles was itself a furt­her mani­fes­ta­tion of Roman­ti­cism, sig­na­lling music’s putati­ve expres­si­ve powers, whi­le at the same time secu­ring its grea­ter sta­tus or ‘dig­nity’. The lat­ter point is impor­tant. It was a key moti­va­tion underl­ying the mar­ked incli­na­tion of post-Beet­ho­ven com­po­sers to look out­wards to the other arts, and espe­cially to poetry. This ten­dency was given its clea­rest expres­sion, of cour­se, in the deve­lop­ment of the art song, and espe­cially the lied. Indeed the art song might sus­tain a claim to be the quin­tes­sen­tial Roman­tic gen­re, born with the early Roman­tics, fading with the rise of Moder­nism and sur­vi­ving in the 20th cen­tury whe­re the spi­rit of Roman­ti­cism sur­vi­ves. In its inti­ma­te, con­fes­sio­nal cha­rac­ter it epi­to­mi­zed the auto­bio­grap­hi­cal cha­rac­ter of Roman­tic art. In its narra­ti­ve, des­crip­ti­ve aspects it reflec­ted the pro­gram­ma­tic, refe­ren­tia­list ten­den­cies of the music of the period. In its evo­ca­tion of folk­song it echoed a wider 19th-cen­tury idea­li­za­tion of the Volks­geist. And abo­ve all in its res­pon­se to the new lyric poetry of the early 19th cen­tury it pro­vi­ded a model of the Roman­tic impul­se towards a fusion of the arts, an impul­se which would be given theo­re­ti­cal, if not always prac­ti­cal, for­mu­la­tion in Wag­ner.

The cate­gory ‘poe­tic’ exten­ded well beyond any spe­ci­fic lite­rary or musi­cal gen­re, howe­ver. Abo­ve all, it embra­ced the con­cre­te (epic) expres­sion of that lofty idea­lism to which the Roman­tics aspi­red, the attempt to ele­va­te art to a power­ful metaphy­si­cal sta­tus. And it is in this sen­se that it beca­me a part of Liszt’s reno­va­ti­ve pro­gram­me for an ins­tru­men­tal music that might itself beco­me the hig­hest form of poetry through its asso­cia­tion with a poe­tic idea. Liszt’s con­fla­tion of music and the poe­tic requi­red well-known topics – real or fic­tio­nal heroes from world lite­ra­tu­re and known legend – so that the pro­gram­me might take on the cha­rac­ter of an essen­tial and fami­liar back­ground, orien­ta­ting com­mu­ni­ca­tion rat­her in the natu­re of a gen­re title. One the­me of this kind to which com­po­sers cons­tantly retur­ned was the Faust legend, espe­cially as repre­sen­ted by Goet­he. This tou­ched a ner­ve clo­se to the heart of Roman­ti­cism. For many 19th-cen­tury artists, inclu­ding com­po­sers, Goethe’s mas­ter­pie­ce see­med the per­fect sym­bol of humanity’s new-found inde­pen­den­ce, repre­sen­ting the human being as a visio­nary who­se quest for know­led­ge of the world and of the self would admit no cons­trai­ning influen­ce, howe­ver dras­tic the con­se­quen­ces. Faust cha­llen­ged the God­head, and Roman­tic com­po­sers res­pon­ded.

Yet poe­tic pro­gram­mes were by no means con­fi­ned to the heroes of world lite­ra­tu­re. For some com­po­sers, the licen­ce of the pro­gram­me invi­ted music to attempt to express the beau­ties and terrors of natu­re, now subli­me and orde­red, now des­truc­ti­ve and irra­tio­nal; for others it was the invo­ca­tion of a glo­rious, idea­li­zed past that appea­led, as eit­her a nos­tal­gic retreat from, or a neces­sary vali­da­tion of, the pre­sent; for yet others an exo­tic dream-world of folk­ta­le and legend, of gro­tes­que­rie and fan­tasy, beca­me their alter­na­ti­ve reality. And most com­mon of all were natio­na­list the­mes. The attempt by so many com­po­sers to lend their sup­port to natio­na­list cau­ses is revea­ling both of the unpre­ce­den­ted ambi­tion of music in the Roman­tic era, and of a wides­pread belief in its expres­si­ve com­pe­ten­ce. As the cen­tury unfol­ded, an ever clea­rer dif­fe­ren­tia­tion bet­ween natio­nal sty­les was acti­vely cul­ti­va­ted, influen­cing Italy, Ger­many and Fran­ce every bit as much as Rus­sia and east cen­tral Euro­pe. Natio­na­list pro­jects were regis­te­red by musi­cal ins­ti­tu­tions (natio­nal thea­tres, publis­hing pro­jects and the like), by sub­ject mat­ter (natio­nal his­to­ries and myths) and by musi­cal sty­le (the redis­co­very or manu­fac­tu­re of ancient sty­lis­tic roots, and of cour­se the cult of folk­song). This last is of spe­cial impor­tan­ce. Indeed, the role of folk­song in colou­ring the musi­cal sty­les of the cen­tury could scar­cely be ove­res­ti­ma­ted. And the underl­ying impul­se was Roman­tic to the core – a cha­rac­te­ris­ti­cally Rous­seau-esque notion (adop­ted and trans­mit­ted by Her­der) that the ‘spi­rit of the peo­ple’, which quickly beca­me synony­mous with the ‘spi­rit of the nation’, is embo­died in its folk music, as in its lan­gua­ge.

Wha­te­ver its sub­ject mat­ter, the sta­tus of ‘poe­tic’ (pro­gram­me) music was hotly deba­ted in late 19th-cen­tury music cri­ti­cism, and it natu­rally invo­ked the pole­mi­cally rela­ted con­cept of abso­lu­te music. We need to be clear that abso­lu­te music was more a metaphy­si­cal than a tech­ni­cal con­cept. Far from requi­ring an allian­ce with poetry to achie­ve its full dig­nity, the abso­lu­te musi­cal work was dee­med to be uni­quely pri­vi­le­ged. Through orga­ni­cism it would esta­blish a pur­po­se in natu­re, hea­ling the divi­sion of sub­ject and object by uni­ting both in the self. The uni­fied work would thus trans­cend the divi­sions of the self, its indi­vi­dual moments cohe­ring in a who­le which might pre­sent a sort of uto­pian pro­mi­se; in short, it could stand for the indi­vi­si­ble Abso­lu­te, belo­ved of idea­list thought. Vie­wed in the­se terms, the rival claims of poe­tic and abso­lu­te music echoed con­flic­ting early 19th-cen­tury posi­tions con­cer­ning the mea­ning and clas­si­fi­ca­tion of music, posi­tions arti­cu­la­ted abo­ve all by Hegel and Scho­pen­hauer. But the claims them­sel­ves were argued out later in the cen­tury – by cri­tics and his­to­rians such as Karl Bren­del and Hans­lick, as well as by lea­ding com­po­sers such as Liszt, Brahms and Wag­ner. The­re may be a case for accor­ding spe­cial pri­vi­le­ge to Wag­ner in this deba­te. Dahl­haus has argued that Wagner’s appa­rently con­tra­dic­tory views on the role of music in the music dra­ma esta­blis­hed a kind of synt­he­sis bet­ween poe­tic and abso­lu­te music, a sin­gle ‘two­fold truth’, which recog­ni­zed that music may ser­ve poetry on a com­po­si­tio­nal level whi­le embod­ying it on a metaphy­si­cal level. The potency of this idea lies in its impli­cit pro­po­sal that Wag­ner might indeed be seen to embra­ce the appa­rently con­tra­dic­tory ten­den­cies of a Roman­tic aest­he­tic.

It is argua­ble that any attempt to defi­ne a Roman­tic period in narrow sty­lis­tic terms will foun­der on inhe­rent diver­si­ties. How do we deal with neo-clas­si­cal ten­den­cies in Men­dels­sohn and Brahms, with rea­lists such as Musorgsky, or even with the Ita­lian ope­ra­tic tra­di­tion, which alt­hough clearly influen­ced by the Roman­tic ideo­logy, remai­ned essen­tially sepa­ra­te from it? More radi­cally, how do we accom­mo­da­te that exten­si­ve reper­tory of ephe­me­ral music that for­med the mains­tay of public tas­te, to say not­hing of publis­hers’ inco­mes, during much of the 19th cen­tury? Such dif­fi­cul­ties sug­gest that we are on safer ground con­si­de­ring Roman­ti­cism in rela­tion to ideas and moti­va­tions rat­her than sty­les, and that if we must invo­ke sty­les, we will do bet­ter to con­fi­ne the term to a des­crip­tion of the lar­ger ten­den­cies flo­wing from tho­se ideas and moti­va­tions that apply it to the period as a who­le. Such ten­den­cies were dic­ta­ted abo­ve all by the invest­ment in sub­jec­ti­vity and the ideo­logy of orga­ni­cism, in short by the two essen­tial mea­nings outli­ned abo­ve. And sin­ce both the­se pro­jects were born of the Enligh­ten­ment and ran into dif­fi­cul­ties with the rise of Moder­nism in the 20th cen­tury, the­re are per­haps furt­her grounds for con­si­de­ring this period (roughly from the late 18th cen­tury to the early 20th) as somet­hing like a unit. In tech­ni­cal terms, then, we would tra­ce some of the effects of an expres­si­ve aest­he­tic, notably on har­mo­nic prac­ti­ce, whi­le recog­ni­zing the arguably oppo­sing impul­se towards orga­ni­cally uni­fied works, notably in the­ma­tic wor­king.

One strength of this chro­no­logy, essen­tially that of Blu­me, is its impli­cit recog­ni­tion that the struc­tu­ral foun­da­tions of most Roman­tic music remain firmly embed­ded in late 18th-cen­tury Clas­si­cal prac­ti­ce. Even the rhe­to­ric of ges­tu­ral con­trast, so cha­rac­te­ris­tic of the Roman­tic cen­tury and so neatly embo­died in the name and cha­rac­ter of its archety­pal medium, the pia­no­for­te, accen­tua­ted rat­her than dis­pla­ced Clas­si­cal ten­den­cies. What really chan­ged in the 19th cen­tury was the weigh­ting of exis­ting com­po­nents of musi­cal syn­tax rat­her than the com­po­nents them­sel­ves. Under the expres­si­ve impe­ra­ti­ve the­re was a subtle but deci­si­ve shift in the balan­ce bet­ween the dia­to­nic and chro­ma­tic ele­ments of a tonal struc­tu­re, for ins­tan­ce, and this ope­ra­ted both at the level of the musi­cal phra­se, and, through far-reaching modu­la­tion sche­mes (toni­ci­zing non-dia­to­nic sca­le degrees), that of the musi­cal work as a who­le. The­re was no obvious divi­ding-line bet­ween Clas­si­cal and Roman­tic prac­ti­ce in this res­pect. Yet by the late 19th cen­tury, notably in works by Wag­ner, Reger, Mah­ler and Schoen­berg, the capa­city of tonal har­mony to sha­pe and direct the musi­cal phra­se was already com­pro­mi­sed. Like­wi­se the­re was a shift in the balan­ce bet­ween tria­dic and dis­so­nant har­mo­nies, cul­mi­na­ting in the poig­nant dis­so­nan­ce of some Wolf songs, for exam­ple, or alter­na­ti­vely in the aggres­si­ve dis­so­nan­ce of Richard Strauss’s Salo­me and Elek­tra. Here, too, the­re was a threat to an underl­ying tonal struc­tu­re. As Schoen­berg later remar­ked of the tonal cri­sis of 1908–9: ‘The overw­hel­ming mul­ti­tu­de of dis­so­nan­ces can­not be coun­ter­ba­lan­ced any lon­ger by occa­sio­nal returns to such tonic triads as repre­sent a key’. In short, the increa­sing weight of both chro­ma­tic and dis­so­nant ele­ments pre­pa­red the ground for tho­se radi­cal chan­ges of syn­tax which accom­pa­nied the rise of moder­nism.

The­ma­ti­cally, we can iden­tify two oppo­sing ten­den­cies in Roman­ti­cism, and again both were roo­ted in late 18th-cen­tury prac­ti­ce. The melo­dic-moti­vic balan­ce cha­rac­te­ris­tic of that prac­ti­ce sepa­ra­ted out into sus­tai­ned son­gli­ke melody on one hand, and an ever more clo­sely inte­gra­ted moti­vic pro­cess on the other. In some late 19th-cen­tury music, notably in Brahms, the­se two ten­den­cies achie­ved a new balan­ce or synt­he­sis, whe­re a power­ful moti­vic rigour infor­med the melo­dic pro­cess. The term ‘deve­lo­ping varia­tion’ has some­ti­mes been used (par­ti­cu­larly by Schoen­berg) to des­cri­be this ten­dency in Brahms, and it tells a yet lar­ger story, easily rela­ta­ble to an ideo­logy of orga­ni­cism. Like the the­ma­tic trans­for­ma­tion of Liszt and Wag­ner, it sig­ni­fies the enhan­ced struc­tu­ral weight assig­ned to the­ma­tic wor­king in late 19th-cen­tury music in res­pon­se to a wea­ke­ning tonal foun­da­tion. In this res­pect Webern iden­ti­fied a kind of ideal when he remar­ked of Schoenberg’s First String Quar­tet: ‘The­re is … not a sin­gle note … that does not have the­ma­tic basis. If the­re is a con­nec­tion with anot­her com­po­ser then that com­po­ser is Johan­nes Brahms’. This was sym­pto­ma­tic of a more gene­ral preoc­cu­pa­tion with unity, with the inte­gra­tion of part and who­le, which would find its cul­mi­na­ting expres­sion in the 12-note tech­ni­que devi­sed by Schoen­berg in the early 1920s. That tech­ni­que for­ma­li­zed the late 19th-cen­tury per­cep­tion that music took its unity from a Grund­ges­talt, a sin­gle basic sha­pe – in effect the basic ‘idea’ of the pie­ce. Thus Wag­ner, wri­ting of Beet­ho­ven: ‘At every point in the sco­re he would have to look both befo­re and after, seeing the who­le in each part and each part con­tri­bu­ting to the who­le’; and of the Ring: ‘[It] tur­ned out to be a firmly ent­wi­ned unity. The­re is scar­cely a bar in the orches­tral wri­ting that doesn’t deve­lop out of pre­ce­ding moti­ves’. Indeed, Wag­ner might well be iden­ti­fied as a deter­mi­na­te pivo­tal sta­ge in the pro­gres­sion from a Clas­sic-Roman­tic to a modern syn­tax, the point at which ‘sta­te­ment’ and ‘deve­lop­ment’ are fused in end­less melody.

The­re were dis­tin­cti­ve natio­nal variants to the­se lar­ger ten­den­cies in har­mo­nic and the­ma­tic pro­cess, and of the­se the achie­ve­ments of Rus­sian com­po­sers merit spe­cial men­tion. In Rus­sia, modal and sym­me­tri­cal chro­ma­ti­cisms sup­por­ted a uni­quely colour­ful, often exo­tic and pic­to­rial blend of natio­nal Roman­ti­cism, dis­tin­ctly at odds with Aus­tro-Ger­man intros­pec­tion. The har­mo­nic prac­ti­ce of 19th-cen­tury Rus­sian com­po­sers, toget­her with a the­ma­tic pro­cess favou­ring melo­dic repe­ti­tion and varia­tion over moti­vic wor­king, and a ten­dency to give unpre­ce­den­ted struc­tu­ral sta­tus to tim­bre, tex­tu­re and rhythm, would later pro­ve of spe­cial impor­tan­ce to early 20th-cen­tury moder­nists wor­king outsi­de Aus­tria and Ger­many, notably Debussy, Janáček and Stra­vinsky. The­re was here a real sour­ce of rene­wal, as natio­nal Roman­ti­cism was imper­cep­tibly trans­mu­ted into rea­lism and moder­nism, affor­ding a late 19th-cen­tury alter­na­ti­ve to, rat­her than an exten­sion of, the Roman­tic aest­he­tic. To a very lar­ge extent, Rus­sian music mana­ged to avoid or bypass the expres­sio­nist cri­sis so cha­rac­te­ris­tic of cen­tral Euro­pean music at the turn of the cen­tury.

It is to that expres­sio­nist cri­sis we must turn if we are to chart the clo­sing sta­ges of Roman­ti­cism in music, at least in its 19th-cen­tury gui­se. Through the uncom­pro­mi­sing agency of an Expres­sions­lo­gik, a ‘law of fee­ling’, an essen­tially Roman­tic sub­jec­ti­vity was finally given its head, resul­ting in a sin­gu­larly radi­cal reorien­ta­tion of musi­cal sty­les and musi­cal syn­tax, not­hing less than a cha­llen­ge to seve­ral cen­tu­ries of har­mo­nic tona­lity. Long esta­blis­hed, his­to­ri­cally sedi­men­ted forms and con­ven­tions were all but burnt out in the inten­sity of this impul­se, and now­he­re more so than in the fier­cely idea­lis­tic moder­nist (and pre­do­mi­nantly Jewish) cir­cles of a deeply divi­ded Vien­na. This was truly the cusp ‘bet­ween Roman­ti­cism and Moder­nism’, to borrow the title of a thought­ful com­men­tary by Dahl­haus. The mas­si­ve ten­sions so cha­rac­te­ris­tic of the music of Mah­ler and of the Second Vien­ne­se School – most obvious in Schoen­berg, but dis­cer­ni­ble in dif­fe­rent ways in Berg and Webern too – gave supre­me expres­sion to the­se cru­cial sta­ges of a disin­te­gra­ting Roman­tic heri­ta­ge in cen­tral Euro­pe. They were also the birth-pangs of a new musi­cal world.

See also Clas­si­cal; Expres­sio­nism; Moder­nism; Natio­na­lism; Neo-clas­si­cism; and Neo-roman­tic.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

  1. Bab­bitt: Rous­seau and Roman­ti­cism (Bos­ton and New York, 1919/R, 2/1991)
  2. Aber­crom­bie: Roman­ti­cism (Lon­don, 1926)
  3. Büc­ken: Die Musik des 19. Jahr­hun­derts bis zur Moder­ne (Pots­dam, 1929/R)
  4. Tier­sot: La musi­que aux temps roman­ti­ques (Paris, 1930/R)
  5. Benz: Die deu­ts­che Roman­tik: Ges­chich­te einer Bewe­gung (Leip­zig, 1937, 2/1940)
  6. Abraham: A Hun­dred Years of Music (Lon­don, 1938, 4/1974)
  7. Reich: Musik in roman­tis­cher Schau (Bas­le, 1946)
  8. Eins­tein: Music in the Roman­tic Era (New York, 1947)
  9. Bar­zun: Ber­lioz and the Roman­tic Cen­tury (New York, 1950, rev., abrid­ged 2/1956/R as Ber­lioz and his Cen­tury, 3/1969)
  10. Bow­ra: The Roman­tic Ima­gi­na­tion (Lon­don, 1950)
  11. Praz: The Roman­tic Agony (Lon­don, 1950)
  12. Huch: Die Roman­tik: Aus­brei­tung, Blü­te­zeit und Ver­fall (Tübin­gen, 1951)
  13. Abrams: The Mirror and the Lamp (New York, 1953)
  14. Chan­ta­voi­ne and J. Gau­de­froy-Demomby­nes: Le roman­tis­me dans la musi­que euro­péen­ne (Paris, 1955)
  15. Bar­zun: Clas­sic, Roman­tic and Modern (New York, 1961)
  16. Kne­pler: Musik­ges­chich­te des 19. Jahr­hun­derts (Ber­lin, 1961)
  17. Frye, ed.: Roman­ti­cism Recon­si­de­red (Cam­brid­ge, 1963)
  18. Wellek: Con­cepts of Cri­ti­cism (New Haven, CT, 1963)
  19. Hals­tead, ed.: Roman­ti­cism: Defi­ni­tion, Expla­na­tion and Eva­lua­tion (Bos­ton, 1965)
  20. Schenk: The Mind of the Euro­pean Roman­tics (Lon­don, 1966)
  21. Thorlby, ed.: The Roman­tic Move­ment (Lon­don, 1966) [selec­tion of docu­ments and cri­ti­cal com­ments, incl. A. Love­joy: ‘On the Dis­cri­mi­na­tions of Roman­ti­cism’]
  22. Tal­mon: Roman­ti­cism and Revolt: Euro­pe 1815–1848 (Lon­don, 1967)
  23. Abraham: Sla­vo­nic and Roman­tic Music (Lon­don, 1968)
  24. Frye: Roman­ti­cism in Pers­pec­ti­ve (Lon­don, 1969)
  25. Furst: Roman­ti­cism (Lon­don, 1969)
  26. Furst: Roman­ti­cism in Pers­pec­ti­ve (Lon­don, 1969)

R.M. Long­year: Nine­teenth-Cen­tury Roman­ti­cism in Music (Engle­wood Cliffs, NJ, 1969, 3/1988)

  1. Wolf, ed.: R. Schu­mann: On Music and Musi­cians (New York, 1969)
  2. Blu­me: Clas­sic and Roman­tic Music (New York, 1970) [Eng. trans. of sty­le-period arti­cles orig. pubd in MGG1]
  3. Gleck­ner and G. Ens­coe, eds.: Roman­ti­cism: Points of View (Engle­wood Cliffs, NJ, 1970)
  4. Pra­wer, ed.: The Roman­tic Period in Ger­many (Lon­don, 1970)

R.J. Tay­lor, ed.: The Roman­tic Tra­di­tion in Ger­many (Lon­don, 1970)

  1. Eich­ner, ed.: ‘Roman­tic’ and its Cog­na­tes: the Euro­pean His­tory of a Word (Toron­to, 1972)
  2. Dahl­haus: Zwis­chen Roman­tik und Moder­ne: vier Stu­dien zur Musik­ges­chich­te des spä­te­ren 19. Jahr­hun­derts (Munich, 1974; Eng. trans., 1980)
  3. Jones: Revo­lu­tion and Roman­ti­cism (Cam­brid­ge, 1974)
  4. Car­di­nal: Ger­man Roman­tics in Con­text (Lon­don, 1975)
  5. Dahl­haus: Die Idee der abso­lu­ten Musik (Kas­sel, 1978; Eng. trans., 1989)
  6. Honour: Roman­ti­cism (Lon­don, 1979)
  7. Dahl­haus: Die Musik des 19. Jahr­hun­derts (Wies­ba­den, 1980; Eng. trans., 1989)
  8. Le Huray and J. Day, eds.: Music and Aest­he­tics in the Eigh­teenth and Early-Nine­teenth Cen­tu­ries (Cam­brid­ge, 1981)
  9. Men­hen­net: The Roman­tic Move­ment (Lon­don, 1981)
  10. Abraham, ed.: The Age of Beet­ho­ven, 1790–1830, NOHM, viii (1982)
  11. Dahl­haus: Musi­ka­lis­cher Rea­lis­mus: zur Musik­ges­chich­te des 19. Jahr­hun­derts (Munich, 1982; Eng. trans., 1985)
  12. McGann: The Roman­tic Ideo­logy: a Cri­ti­cal Inves­ti­ga­tion (Chica­go, 1983)
  13. Kra­mer: Music and Poetry: the Nine­teenth Cen­tury and After (Ber­ke­ley and Los Ange­les, 1984)
  14. Plan­tin­ga: Roman­tic Music: a His­tory of Musi­cal Sty­le in Nine­teenth-Cen­tury Euro­pe (New York and Lon­don, 1984)
  15. Rosen and H. Zer­ner: Roman­ti­cism and Rea­lism: the Myt­ho­logy of Nine­teenth-Cen­tury Art (Lon­don, 1984)
  16. Lipp­man: Musi­cal Aest­he­tics: a His­to­ri­cal Reader (Stuy­ve­sant, NY, 1986)
  17. Dahl­haus and R. Katz, eds.: Con­tem­pla­ting Music: Sour­ce Readings in the Aest­he­tics of Music (Stuy­ve­sant, NY, 1986–93)
  18. Whit­tall: Roman­tic Music: a Con­ci­se His­tory from Schu­bert to Sibe­lius (Lon­don, 1987)
  19. Bujic, ed.: Music in Euro­pean Thought (Cam­brid­ge, 1988)
  20. Rosen­blum: Anot­her Libe­ra­lism: Roman­ti­cism and the Recons­truc­tion of Libe­ral Thought (Cam­brid­ge, MA, 1988)
  21. Charl­ton, ed.: E.T.A. Hoffmann’s Musi­cal Wri­tings (Cam­brid­ge, 1989)
  22. Rum­men­hö­ller: Roman­tik in der Musik: Analy­sen, Por­traits, Refle­xio­nen (Munich, 1989)
  23. Abraham, ed.: Roman­ti­cism, 1830–1890, NOHM, ix (1990)
  24. Bowie: Aest­he­tics and Sub­jec­ti­vity from Kant to Nietz­sche (Man­ches­ter, 1990, 2/1993)
  25. Rin­ger, ed.: Man and Music: the Early Roman­tic Era (Lon­don, 1990)
  26. Sam­son, ed.: Man and Music: the Late Roman­tic Era (Lon­don, 1991)
  27. Goehr: The Ima­gi­nary Museum of Musi­cal Works: an Essay in the Phi­lo­sophy of Music (Oxford, 1992)
  28. Rat­ner: Roman­tic Music: Sound and Syn­tax (New York, 1992)
  29. Bent, ed.: Music Analy­sis in the Nine­teenth Cen­tury (Cam­brid­ge, 1993)
  30. Bowie: Sche­lling and Modern Euro­pean Phi­lo­sophy (Lon­don, 1993)
  31. Dave­rio: Nine­teenth-Cen­tury Music and the Ger­man Roman­tic Ideo­logy (New York, 1993)
  32. Bent, ed.: Music Theory in the Age of Roman­ti­cism (Cam­brid­ge, 1996)
  33. Rosen: The Roman­tic Gene­ra­tion (Lon­don, 1996)
  34. Bowie: From Roman­ti­cism to Cri­ti­cal Theory: the Phi­lo­sophy of Ger­man Lite­rary Theory (Lon­don, 1997)

source writings

J.-J. Rous­seau: Les con­fes­sions (Paris, 1781)

A.-E.-M. Grétry: Mémoi­res, ou Essai sur la musi­que (Paris, 1789, enlar­ged 2/1797/R

F.W.J. Sche­lling: Sys­tem des trans­cen­den­ta­len Idea­lis­mus (Tübin­gen, 1800)

  1. Schle­gel : ‘Ges­prach über die Poe­sie’ Athe­näum, ii (1800)

E.T.A. Hoff­mann: Reviews of works by Beet­ho­ven, AMZ, xii–xv (1809–13); repr. in E.T.A. Hoffmann’s musi­ka­lis­che Schrif­ten, ed. H. von Ende (Colog­ne, 1899)

A.W. Schle­gel: Ueber dra­ma­tis­che Kunst und Lit­te­ra­tur: Vor­le­sun­gen (Hei­del­berg, 1809-11, 2/1817)

  1. de Staël: De l’Allemagne (Paris, 1810)

S.T. Cole­rid­ge: Bio­grap­hia lite­ra­ria (Lon­don, 1817/R)

A.-M.-L. Lamar­ti­ne: Médi­ta­tions poé­ti­ques (Paris, 1820)

  1. Hugo: Pre­fa­ce to Crom­well (Paris, 1828); ed. M. Sou­riau (Paris, 1897)
  2. Hei­ne: Die roman­tis­che Schu­le (Ham­burg, 1836)
  3. Wag­ner: Oper und Dra­ma (Leip­zig, 1852)
  4. Wag­ner: Beet­ho­ven (Leip­zig, 1872)
  5. Nietz­sche: Die Geburt der Tra­gö­die (Leip­zig, 1872)

[catlist tags=«romántico+compositor»]