SHUBERT, THE MUSIC AND THE MAN

BRIAN NEWBOULD

1. INTRODUCTION
It may not be entirely coincidental that the unprecedented growth in Schubert research
witnessed in the last quarter of the twentieth century came in a period framed by two anniversaries. In
th
the early 1970s the imminence of the 150 anniversary of the composers death (1978) stimulated
preparations which, particularly but not only in the Vienna libraries, led to a re-examination of the
documentary inheritance, the re-evaluation of old documents and discovery of new ones, and the
production of new or updated listings. The publication of the second edition of Deutschs Catalogue of
the composers works was one significant outcome. The next twenty-year period saw a proliferation of
research on several fronts archival, papyrological, graphological, biographical and iconographical, to
identify some characteristic strands (performance practice must be added too). At the same time, those
analysts of music who are driven by an absorption in analytical methodology and, more lately, by a
concern with gender issues have lighted upon the Schubert oeuvre with relish. Through all of this
period, the dominant format of research or analytical findings was the academic article, the scholarly
edition, the realization of a sketch.
Much of this material was slow to penetrate the consciousness of Schubertians who were not
also musicologists, for reasons which were sometimes understandable. A different market was served
by the flow of coffee-table productions and biographies, in which the music (with few exceptions) took
second place. A rapprochement between the two media the short, close scholarly study and the
readable catch-all exposition remained a largely neglected aim, except in the compact context of the
occasional programme note and record liner note. In these circumstances it takes some temerity to
pursue that path between the covers of a hefty critical biography which attempts to revive the
fortunes of a genre conventionally addressed to a wide readership.
But the present work is not intended to fit the traditional mould of critical biography, which in
the case of a prolific composer contents itself with a sentence or two on even a major work, and a
meagre ration of music examples. The supply of biographical fact about Schubert is relatively small
when set against the vastness of his lifes work roughly one thousand works squeezed out of an active
composing existence of a mere eighteen years if we admit the earliest juvenilia of a fourteen-year-old
into the canon. And it is the musical product, with its enduring power to enhance the times we distant
generations spend on earth, that gives his life its interest to us. If, in that sense, the music dwarfs the
man, let that be reflected in the title, subject-focus and interior proportions of this study.
No writer at this stage in the affairs of Schubert can but owe an enormous debt of gratitude to
those who have gone before, and none went before with such a combination of industry, patience and
wisdom as Otto Erich Deutsch, on whose foundation so much has been and will be built. Deutsch was
concerned principally, of course, to sort, list and interpret documents, to locate musical sources, and to
attempt a chronological catalogue of all the works. He provides the biographical bones, and the starting
point for a study of the music. For models in the study of Schuberts music one looks elsewhere. One
attempt to come to grips with the whole corpus of his music remains a guiding beacon to the latter-day
venture, despite the fact that it is half a century out of date half-century that has changed our
knowledge of all areas of Schuberts extensive repertory. The fact that so much of the symposium
(Shubert) edited by Gerald Abraham and published in 1946 can be read with pleasure today is a tribute
to the philosophy that inspired it as well as to the insight of those who wrote it. A single-author assault
1

on similar objectives, with biography interwoven, is no doubt a foolhardy undertaking, but it is hoped
that it will offer something to the keen listener, the student, and the professional musician wishing to
compare thoughts with those of one who has enjoyed a hands-on relationship with Schuberts music for
twenty years as well as being an enthralled listener for more than forty.
Since the 1920s, when the musical Das Dreimderlhaus hit the stage (reaching the Englishspeaking world as Lilac Time or, in the USA, Blossom Time), the notion of Schubert as a podgy, lovelorn
Bohemian Schwammerl (mushroom) who scribbled gemtlich tunes on the back of menus in idle
moments has never been quite eradicated. Popular misconceptions have a way of lingering; moreover,
the time-gap between scholarly revelation and public awareness is long (witness the number of
published references to the Great C major Symphony during the 1980s and 1990s as having been
composed in 1828, long after that date had been discredited on several counts in the 1970s). Shubert
did have his loves, he was five foot tall, and he could compose at speed if composing means putting
pen to paper (though we cannot know how much of the composing was done mentally before pen and
paper was taken). But what went for the dances and the shorter, simpler songs (even for the Trout
Quintet) did not hold for the greatest instrumental works, or even for some of the finest of the songs.
The idea of the composer plucking melodies out of the air, relying on instinct more than well-honed
craft, in contradistinction to Beethovens way of dripping perspiration into sketchbooks as he sculpted
this and that detail to perfection with a fine chisel, dies hard.
Many Schubert songs exist in two or more versions, and not only because when he recomposed a song from memory for a friend who asked for a copy of a recent product his memory
played tricks (not surprisingly in view of the volume of music he had probably composed in the
intervening days or hours). Sometimes second versions incorporate inspired, deliberately bidden second
thoughts. Many
well-known works were the result of extensive sketching. Even when he
composed a symphony directly into score, as with the Great C major, the autograph shows layers of
addition and correction made over many months. The third movement of the Tenth Symphony, with its
contrapuntal ingenuities, required careful testing of possibilities before even a first two-stave continuity
draft could be begun. In his Wanderer Fantasy Shubert generates a mirror image of one passage as the
basis of a later passage a calculated device the likes of which will probably not be found in the scores
of Beethoven himself. And if he was incapable of the painstaking work associated with Beethoven, how
did he create, in one of his operas (Die Zauberharfe The Magic Harp), the only true, orchestral
palindrome in the whole of nineteenth-century music, in which nineteen bars of music are repeated
with not only melody and rhythm but harmony too reversed?
The analytical discovery of such remarkable features as these in Schuberts scores, in the last
quarter of the twentieth century, owes nothing to Schenkerian analysis nor to the other specialist
techniques which have attracted a following during this period. There is still much to be said about
Schuberts music which depends on honest-to-goodness musicianship and powers of observation, in
which regard the methods are a distraction rather than a help. Readers who regard Schenker-graphs as
indispensable to any commentary on music need read no further. There will, however, be demands
placed on the readers understanding or tolerance from time to time by the authors refusal to overlook
the fact that, if Schubertians were asked what characteristics of Schuberts music most appeal to them,
many would include harmony and key-relations in their answer. These are the most difficult aspects of
music to talk or write about without resorting to technical language. It is hoped that an acceptable
solution has been the relegation of any prolonged commentary on harmonic matters to a chapter
concerned with technicalities alone (Chapter 23; see page 389), the time-saving jargon to appreciate the
occasional technical references elsewhere in the book.
Two issues concerning Schubert the man have come to the fore and been debated at length in
recent years the cause of his death and the question of his sexual orientation. Did he die of syphilis or
2

of some other ailment? Was he gay? The evidence will be reviewed at the appropriate places. Since no
one has yet demonstrated that there is and identifiably gay way of proportioning a sonata movement,
structuring a cadence, arguing a fugue or handling a symphony orchestra, the question of sexuality
would seem to have little bearing on our consideration of Schuberts music, although it could have
affected his choice of song texts in some instances. Claims to the contrary will have to overcome
widespread, deep-seated scepticism among those who doubt whether earlier generations of Shubertlovers should it now be proved that Shubert was homosexual will have taken with them to the grave
a false appreciation of his music.
The aims of this study are, first, to share a lifelong love of the best products of Schuberts
unique genius; second, to offer a conspectus of the composers output, in which ghetto treatment of the
genres is minimized so that the songs and sonatas, for example, are seen as one outcome of the same
overarching musical impulse that gave rise to the symphonies, masses, chamber music, operas and
dances; and third, to take account of recent developments in Schubert scholarship which may
permanently change or enhance our experience of his sublime art in time to come. The second of these
aims is paramount. Schubert did not regard himself as a song-composer who also wrote sonatas, or a
symphonist who tried his hand at masses, dances and quartets. He saw himself as a composer, and was
a devoted, workaholic example of the species, combining the relish and wonder of an amateur with the
discipline and technical rigour of a professional. He was prolific to a fault, moving comfortably and
quickly between the genres and leaving yesterdays effort unfinished if he had reached an impasse or a
new venture enticed him away. Accounts of his strict working regime, with long mornings given to
composing, are credible: yet, although he clearly found time to develop his strong literary interests, to
enjoy the company of friends, to take country walks, to attend concerts and operas, and to frequent
inns and coffee-houses, it is unthinkable in the light of his productivity that during or between those
activities he was not in effect extending his working day by mentally continuing his mornings brief or
conceiving what would be committed to paper at the next opportunity.
No writer is an island, and I cannot begin to count my debts to friends near and far, amateur
and professional, living and late. Certain preparatory tasks would have been much harder to accomplish
without the New Schubert Edition (alas, still uncompleted), John Reeds compendious Shubert Song
Companion, Graham Johnsons comprehensive song recordings for Hyperion, or the many fine
performers on whom we depend to keep the repertory alive, and many of whom make their own
contribution not necessarily consciously to Shubert scholarship. The translations of song-texts used
are taken with kind permission from Richard Wigmores estimable volume (Shubert: The Complete Song
Texts, Gollancz, 1988). Richard Wigmore himself, as my editor, has taken a constructive and valued
interest in the books progress, showing particular forbearance in its closing stages. I am greatly
indebted to Katrina Whone and Elizabeth Dobson who, for the published, brought so much skill and
commitment to bear on the task of bringing the project through to publication. Thanks are also due to
colleagues in the University of Hull, for funding research in Vienna and facilitating study leave in times of
acute pressure on British university staff, and to my students for accepting some disruption caused by
my recurring absenteeism. My wife, Ann, and daughter, Fiona, showed philosophic resilience as my
study consumed me and rainforest for days at a time over a period of years: to them, and to all who
have tasted what it is that draws the human soul into communion with Schubert, the following chapters
are dedicated.