ARNOLD SCHOENBERG--A SURVIVOR FROM WARSAW

Arnold Schoenberg is remembered for his achievements in breaking away from tonality and for pioneering the twelve-tone method of composition which inspired many composers of the twentieth century. Schoenberg had already enjoyed a successful career as a composer when he came to America in 1933, largely due to the anti-Semitism that was beginning to appear in Hitler’s Germany. In 1947, Schoenberg began writing a piece for orchestra, narrator, and chorus that would pay tribute to the Jews who died at the hands of the Nazis during World War II (Michael Strasser, “‘A Survivor from Warsaw’ as Personal Parable,” 52 & 54). This piece was eventually titled A Survivor from Warsaw and was premiered in Albuquerque on November 4th, 1948 with tremendous success (ibid., 56-57). Michael Strasser comments on the importance of the piece:
The emotional impact that A Survivor from Warsaw had on the performers and audience at the Albuquerque première has not dimmed with time. The source of the work’s effect on audiences is not difficult to fathom, for the event to which it bears witness—the brutal and systematic annihilation of most of Europe’s Jewish population—is a crime unparalleled in the annals of human history. To audiences of the late 1940s and 1950s, for whom the bitter experiences of world war were still vivid, A Survivor from Warsaw must have carried a special meaning (“‘A Survivor from Warsaw’ as Personal Parable,” 57).
The piece retained its popularity in subsequent performances and is seen as one of Schoenberg’s most successful works. Because Schoenberg was such a pioneer in the field of composition in the 20th century, and because this work is so well known, it deserves further examination.
Scored for orchestra, male narrator, and men’s chorus, the piece lasts slightly over seven minutes and is built on Schoenberg’s twelve-tone system. Strasser divides the work into two main sections, the first consisting of the narration with orchestral accompaniment, the second when the chorus comes in with the “Shema Yisroel” (ibid., 62). He comments that although the first section lasts much longer than the second section, the emotional climax of the second section helps to give a sense of balance to the piece (ibid., 62). In the first section, the focus is on the narrator as he tells the story of the doomed Jewish prisoners. After a jarring instrumental introduction, the narrator enters with the words:
I cannot remember ev’rything. I must have been unconscious most of the time.—I remember only the grandiose moment when they all started to sing, as if prearranged, the old prayer they had neglected for so many years—the forgotten creed! But I have no recollection how I got underground to live in the sewers of Warsaw for so long a time.— (Joseph Auner, A Schoenberg Reader: Documents of a Life, p. 319).
The narrator goes on to tell how the Nazi soldiers round up a crowd of Jewish men to beat them and take them to the gas chambers. Although Schoenberg most likely meant for the title to reference the Jewish Warsaw revolt of 1943, the actual events of the story most likely take place in a concentration camp (“‘A Survivor from Warsaw’ as Personal Parable,” p. 58). The text is at times shockingly brutal, portraying the Nazi soldiers beating the Jewish men. Although the text itself is emotionally powerful, it can take on different shades of expression based on the delivery of the narrator. As a member of the orchestra in a recent performance of this piece, I was able to witness this first hand. When the narrator describes the physical and emotional state of the men who were just beaten by the Nazis, the text says “It had become very still—fear and pain.” In the recording I listened to, the narrator puts the emphasis on the word “pain” by nearly shouting the line; the effect is one of anger and sharp physical pain. During rehearsals for the performance I participated in, I heard the narrator deliver this line in several additional ways. One was to linger on the word “pain” but in a much gentler voice, giving the whole line a much more tragic and eerie effect. The piece gives the narrator power to give added nuance to the story by vocal inflection. Although the narrator is crucial in telling the story, it is the chorus that provides the emotional climax of the piece.
As the narrator relates how the Nazi guards prepare to take the prisoners to the gas chambers, the orchestra gradually builds and crescendos into a state of frenzy. The narrator cries, “They began again, first slowly: one, two, three, four, became faster and faster, so fast that it finally sounded like a stampede of wild horses, and all of sudden, in the middle of it, they began singing the Shema Yisrael.” At this moment, the chorus enters in unison, singing ‘Shema Yisroel,’ a traditional Jewish prayer in Hebrew. Taken from Deuteronomy, the text of the prayer translates:
Hear Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord, And you should love the Lord, your God, With all your heart and with all your soul And with all your might. And these words, which I command you today, Shall be in all your heart; [sic] And you shall teach them diligently to your children and talk of them When you sit in your house And when you walk along your way, When you lie down and when you rise (Joseph Auner, A Schoenberg Reader: Documents of a Life, p. 320).
The first time I listened to the piece, this moment struck me as the most powerful and dramatic moment of the work. Despite my general dislike of the twelve-tone composition method, I found myself grudgingly liking this piece for the raw emotional power it achieves by its text, orchestration, and effective use of men’s chorus.
When I first listened to this work in preparation for a rehearsal, I was unsure of what to expect. Most of the time, I dislike twelve-tone music in general and dislike Schoenberg’s music in particular. However, my preconceived notions about this piece turned out to be wrong. In this piece, I felt that the twelve-tone orchestral part served to accentuate the brutality of the text. While I can sometimes find myself bored by music from the Second Viennese School, the gripping story of the narrator held my attention until the entrance of the chorus brought the piece to a breathtaking climax before its furious close. I am not sure whether this piece should be included in the Canon. The subject matter and the jarring twelve-tone orchestration make it difficult to listen to, and the large performing forces make it a challenge to perform. Although there are other difficult-to-perform works in the Canon such as Wagner’s Ring Cycle, most of them are tonal, or semi-tonal, giving them a wider appeal to a public accustomed to tonality. These are all contributing reasons why this piece is not currently in the Canon. Yet in a world plagued with racism, genocide, religious prejudice and violence of all types, A Survivor from Warsaw gives powerful witness to the reality courage and faith in the midst of violence and hate. While it will probably never reach the level of popularity of the great works included in the Canon, A Survivor from Warsaw should never be forgotten.