When I say “new classical music,” what is your first thought? Do you think, “let me at it, if it’s new, I want to hear it. New music is exciting.” Or, are your thoughts more along the lines of, “oh no, another noisy, annoying, incomprehensible piece. Why do they write music like that? Is it even music at all?” If your like many people, which of those two responses are yours probably depends on whatever experience you’ve had with the composer whose music is in question. You see, new music by a trusted, familiar composer is probably going to be as enjoyable and likable as other pieces we know and love by that composer, so the prospect of hearing something new by that composer is exciting, and evokes positive anticipation. In our own time, this is born out by reactions to music scholars discovering a work by a known composer that had been lost for centuries but suddenly appeared in someone’s attic or yard sale. (Well it doesn’t always happen like that, but you know what I mean.) For example, a short waltz, (literally one minute in length) was discovered in 2019. For lovers of Chopin’s music, this was undoubtedly welcomed news. But suppose it had been a waltz by Schoenberg? Would those lovers of Chopin be equally welcoming? Probably not. 

Attributes of successful music

Music, like all forms of art, usually need two attributes to be successful, and by successful I mean popular with the public. These two attributes are familiarity and comprehensibility. In the case of Chopin, he is a familiar name to anyone who enjoys classical music, and his music, with its endearing melodies and charming twists and turns, are comprehensible to most listeners. In those instances where Chopin challenges the limits of traditional harmonic or metrical structure, he does so by placing those passages into a context of escalating tension followed by a release of it, so that even unfamiliar harmonies and metrical twists come off as things of beauty. So Chopin’s music has both familiarity and comprehensibility, making it enjoyable for listeners and therefore popular. 

Schoenberg, like Chopin, is also a familiar name to classical music audiences, but their experience with his music is not at all so pleasant as with that of Chopin. Listeners are familiar with Schoenberg’s atonal inventions, his twelve-tone music (in which all twelve tones must be used before any are repeated, resulting in all tonalities being possible at any moment, and therefore in none being established) that makes familiar tonality all but completely disappear. So there is the attribute of familiarity, in way. But comprehensibility is absent for lay listeners. Only trained musicians and music scholars have much of a chance of comprehending the twelve tone row with all its configurations of retrogrades, inversions, and so on. 

New unfamiliar music by an unknown composer can still have our two attributes. Familiarity doesn’t have to be with a specific piece. It can be with the language in an unfamiliar piece. If someone hears a Mozart symphony that they’ve never heard before, there is still the familiar musical vocabulary, the “Mozart sound,” if you will, to fall back on. And rare indeed is the music by Mozart that is not comprehensible.

Eighteenth century Classical composers were keen on adhering to balanced, logical, highly structured musical forms, making their music highly accessible. On the other hand, if a musical work is incompressible, even though it may be familiar from repeated attempts to “get it,” it will not sit well with audiences. Even those determined enough to give it repeated listening in an attempt to develop an “appreciation” for it will at some point give it up if no sense can be made of it. 

The dynamic between composers and audiences

There is a dynamic that exists between composers and audiences that inevitably establishes a tension between them. On the composer’s side, it is the creative necessity to innovate. Creative people get bored doing the same thing repeatedly. Many of the greatest composers were innovators. Bach, Haydn, Beethoven, Mozart, they were all innovators at times. Some more than other, but each of these invented something that changed the way composers made music after them. They were leaders among their peers. Others, fine composers in their day, and some more financially successful, are still less regarded today, because they mostly were content trying to write music like the innovators, and likely did so less skillfully.

So the greatest composers are restless, not content with the status quo, and blaze new roads to what great music sounds like. They are musical liberals, in the traditional sense of that word, not the current political sense. Audiences, on the other hand, are more conservative. They like things the way they are. They don’t want to be shocked or drastically taken by surprise by some radical new composition.

Some newness is good. It provides excitement and thrill. But too much newness becomes an obstacle audiences are not willing to scale. Stravinsky wrote too much innovation into his “The Rite of Spring” which resulted in the infamous riot at the premiere. Beethoven wrote the right amount of innovation into his ninth symphony, resulting in a rousing standing ovation at the conclusion of the premiere performance. There is always, to some degree, tension between composers and audiences. Composers are at their best when they push the envelope but not so far that they loose their audience. Great musical geniuses may not care about loosing an audience. They may just trust that their music will be comprehensible and loved sometime in the future, and compose for an audience they will never know in their lifetime.

When Mahler conducted the premier of his fifth symphony, it was a disappointment. The audience did not receive it well. They just didn’t get it. In response, Mahler is quoted as saying that he wished he could conduct the work ten years after he dies. He believed in his new work, and believed that it was just ahead of its time—that the day would come when it would be recognized for what it was. And of course, Mahler was right.

But that premiere illustrates the existence of that balance which was out of balance at the time. Innovation must be balanced with the conservatism of audiences. Great music has just the right amount of innovation for its time. Music that is ahead of its time can become great when audiences “catch up” to the innovation. Conversely, music that lacks any innovation my be regarded as great by neophyte audiences, because they are so new to the genre that even no innovation is innovation to them, but to experienced listeners, it will not seem to be great music at all. It is all in the balance between the innovation and the readiness of the audience to embrace innovation. 

Composers (and presenters) of music will grow audiences by managing the tension between creators innovation and audiences conservatism. Different audiences will have different tolerances for innovation. Much of the avant-garde music of the twentieth century, while being incomprehensible to lay audiences, (and therefore unpopular) found an interested audience among music conservatory student audiences, particularly among the sub-group of music conservatory student composers and their teachers. This informs composers and presenters that it is necessary to know your audience, and manage the tension accordingly.