Frank Corcoran

irish composer

Do not weaken or waver.
Keep going.
Hear the musical forms.
Write them for a potential audience.
But first write for me. For inner hearing. For the serenity of meaning . Value. Only then make:
A Confession In The Cold Glasblaeser

Perhaps there NEVER, ever was even a modest wave of support , understanding or acceptance here for New Music in our 20 c.
? Perhaps all you had was those brave
moral heroes of the Second Viennese School before the Nazi thirties ? ( Schoenberg’s hasty departure, Berg’s early death and Webern’s total lonely
loon in his Austrian Alps ? )

Since then you had (im)modest little footlings of composers in Munich and Berlin , WDR’s blandishments in the sixties and seventies ( I am bracketing out Poland and Paris here, also Ligeti’s Luck ) ?

Certainly here in Ham and in Burg the woeful few Hogskool Concerts in my eighties and nineties were not to be trusted … But one was thankful for the few thrown crusts.
And I remember well all those well-meaning “Schulmusik” publications and books on New Music In The Schools etc., mostly pap.

Perhaps.

And NO kind of understanding percolating down to your intellectual, to a public or private ; no acceptance of these lonely heroes, no kind of parallel at all with , say, the
accepted development of pictorial arts or literary productions or avant-garde theatre, let alone film .

The world-ocean of musical bilge and cowardly media contributed , certainly. No journalist prepared to call a spade a spade, popular shit as sonic shit. Seldom
analytic light cast on the marketing of punks and pricks and rocks and cunts and pricks and raps , whether American or helots.

A bit bleak .

Posted under: Humble Hamburg Musings

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