Some composers, like Debussy, create music like an artist paints. Others, like Bloch, write musical epics. Nielsen composes instrumental dramas. Virgil Thomson creates terse Japanese lyrics. Ives philosophizes like Thoreau or Emerson. Schuman writes essays. That is, he concerns himself mainly with clear musical argument.
Schuman’s Fourth, from the early Forties, consolidated his reputation as a major American symphonist after the acclaim that greeted his Third. Curiously, the Fourth doesn’t sound as characteristic of Schuman’s music as the Third. The influence of Copland, then probably at the height of his career, pervades it, particularly the Copland of the Short Symphony, and Schuman had in fact submitted his score to the older composer for criticism. However, unlike Copland, who consciously strove to create an “American” music (via Stravinsky), Schuman, in the next generation, tended to take the American qualities in his music for granted. He expressed mainly himself and in so doing manifested certain qualities (especially rhythmic ones) associated with music of the New World. He also was, to a large extent, hipped on counterpoint—academic, sectional, and his own special brand. However, his symphonic construction is anything but conventional. Indeed, the Fourth Symphony doesn’t follow so much as it analogizes sonata and rondo form. Connections between movements assume just as much importance in Schuman’s construction. Perhaps he picked up this outlook from his teacher, Roy Harris, also an odd master builder and gaga over counterpoint. Indeed, all the works here show far more virtuosic counterpoint, indeed revel in it, than those of most other American composers during the same period.
The Fourth begins with what becomes a passacaglia, begun (unusually) with solo bass and oboe. Above the bass, a repeated-note idea engenders several extensions. This leads to an allegro—a burst of repeated notes followed by a new tail, one which has consequences throughout the symphony. Schuman develops this as a fugato. The passacaglia bass is also treated in fugato by the winds and then the strings. The allegro returns with the tail (from now on referred to as the Big Theme) prominent. A double fugato follows, based the Big Theme and the repeated-note idea. The Big Theme emerges triumphant at the end.
The second movement, one of the loveliest in all of Schuman, opens with a sad arioso for the strings only. We hear in succession a passage for flute and brass, a fugato for winds, and a section for high brass and low strings. A new section, based on the repeated-note head in the first movement, provides contrast. The movement closes with a varied recap of the opening.
A contrapuntal extravaganza, the finale opens with yet another shot of repeated notes. Although one notes the similarities to other Forties symphonists like Piston, this movement strikes me as Schuman at his most characteristic—nervous, bright, incisive. Throughout this first section, the Big Theme begin