Cold Reception

Few music lovers ever have any trouble appreciating Artur Schnabel, the great pianist. But in London last week, even 66-year-old Pianist Schnabel himself was afraid that many were going to have trouble with Schnabel, the composer. His atonal First Symphony is so formidable that he thought London audiences and critics ought to get a warmup on it before its premiere. So he invited them to the final rehearsal.

In huge, unlit Albert Hall, while cleaners dusted, the critics and the curious watched as Sir Malcolm Sargent stopped the London Philharmonic Orchestra for the 18th time to cry "No, no! ... Back to bar 175 again." Finally, looking at his watch, he muttered, "Only two minutes more. My God, I must have this again." Composer Schnabel, bent over his score, nodded his huge, bristly head with sympathy. Two years ago, the Minneapolis Symphony had taken 25 rehearsals before it dared to give Schnabel's treacherous piece its first U.S. hearing.

Schnabel had divided his score into conventional bars, but only as a concession to form. Said he: "I hate bars . . . [they] are like policemen's batons that strike down horribly, horribly. We must do away with them." He likes his melodies to "flow with no barriers, like the sea." He had composed his symphony ten years ago in the Swiss mountains, and likes to think of it as "glacial." But, he warned, "Do not try to understand it. Just feel."

The London audience felt all right--but pain, not pleasure. Said one listener after the concert: "It sounded like they were always tuning up." And the critics gave the First a glacial reception. Said the Daily Herald: "Except at the dentist's, I don't remember a longer 35 minutes." The Times, which didn't like it at all, summed up in deadpan fashion: "It contained some loud and soft, quick and slow sounds." The Daily Mail's advice: "the cobbler should stick to his last."

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