Hearing, Speaking, Singing, Writing: The Meaning of
Oral Tradition
Despite the coarseness
that Bert Brecht often openly displayed, he was a person who reacted with great
sensitivity to sounds and noises. When his grandmother read to him from the
Bible or friends played classical music for him, he was a very attentive
listener. The sensitivity with which he reacted to music even as a schoolboy
can be seen from an episode related by his classmate Georg Geyer.[1]
When Geyer once played the slow movement of Mozart's F-Major Piano Sonata KV
280 for him, Brecht was impulsively inspired to write a poem about death, which
he subsequently sketched into the music. He heard instrumental music in the
sense of a symphonic poem, as entirely poetic-programmatic; it excited his "Klangbilderphantasie" (Heine), and thus became a source of his artistic
productivity.
In the case of the
F-minor adagio movement of the Mozart sonata, the dotted rhythms suggestive of
a funeral march may have reminded him not only of the World War going on then,
but also of his own uncertain health. Still in American exile in 1944, he
mentioned the exceptionally strong effect of the Matthäuspassion,[2]
which he had, as a schoolboy, indeed feared. Certain music affected the "Stückeschreiber" (Brecht's term for himself as playwright)
like a drug which immediately altered his body temperature. When he later spoke
of the fixed, gaping stares of the sweating concertgoers,[3] he was describing his own physical response
to great symphonic music. He identified this kind of reaction with the middle
class and saw in the preeminence of the musical arts - as did the poet Stefan
George[4]
- a threat to literary arts and theater. (One can perceive the secret rivalry
between opera and dramatic theater also in his critiques of the Augsburg
Theater.)
Brecht battled against
the seductive power of music so vehemently because he was himself so completely
ensnared by it.[5] Music affected
his emotions subliminally and was thus less controllable for him than
literature. Its effect was therefore -
and this he did experience - stronger at least for the short term. On 25 September 1920 he noted in his diary: "Immerfort beschäftigt mich die geringe Macht, die
der Mensch über den Menschen hat. Es gibt keine Sprache, die jeder versteht. Es
gibt kein Geschoß, das ins Ziel trifft. Die Beeinflussung geht anders herum:
sie vergewaltigt (Hypnose)."[6]
The narcotic effect,
particularly of late Romantic music, was based essentially on blocking out
reality as demanded by the proponents of socalled absolute music; the mundane
should remain excluded from the special world of the concert hall. The music
historian Heinrich Besseler set this middle-class form of "Darbietungsmusik" against the historically earlier form of
"Umgangsmusik," i.e., functional arts like the folk song or the music
of church and school, which were still bound to life, to human activity.[7]
Like the "Jugendbewegung" and with a similar activistic impulse, Brecht also demanded a return to
functional musical forms. Against the vague generality of instrumental music
which allowed itself to be misused so easily, he opposed a concrete designation
of purpose; and against the socially unspecific music-making groups in the
"Jugendbewegung" (which later decayed into "Volksgemeinschaft"),[8]
he insisted on a specific target group, a particular person, an occupation, or
even a class.
As opposite pole to the
prevailing middle-class concept of art, to the much too broad and general human
pathos of Classicism (but also of Expressionism), Brecht emphasized the
concrete social place of every art, including texts and their music. Already in
his hometown of Augsburg Brecht had turned towards the culture of the
proletarian, small-town suburb. That culture was rarely preserved in written
form since it essentially rested on oral tradition; it did not exist on paper,
but rather all the more in reality, in the practice of life. Because there were
neither books nor music stands on the street, listening was more important than
reading. On special occasions people played music, sang, and spoke
spontaneously or from memory. An important part of this suburban culture were
the folk songs which Brecht mentioned in his essay, "Wo ich gelernt
habe." He had happily not only read, but also heard them sung by the
people with their special intonation and on the proper occasion ("glücklicherweise nicht nur
gelesen, sondern auch gehört, ... gesungen von der Bevölkerung mit der besonderen
Intonation und bei der richtigen Gelegenheit").[9]
As in the case of the songs of the suburbs, Brecht hoped also that his songs
would not just be read.
In the suburbs the songs
were not the result of abstract instruction but were rather expressions of
specific interests; they were tied to occasions. Folk songs achieved their
worth and their meaning first through their realistic utilization. With this,
Brecht distanced himself from the middle-class concept of the art work, which
supposedly retained an unchangeable worth independent of its use. For him the
term "Gelegenheitswerk" (occasional work) was in no way a negative
stamp since it contained the connection with social activity, which for hem had
priority before art. "Gelegenheitswerke" had to subordinate
themselves to their practical function, which included the possibility and even
necessity of permanent change and spontaneous invention. Thus in his essay
"Wo ich gelernt habe" he stressed that the women workers of a nearby
paper factory did not always remember all the verses of a song, and therefore
improvised certain passages from which much could be learned ("wovon viel
zu lernen war"). Because social interaction stood in the forefront,
literary as well as musical texts were secondary, derivative forms of singing,
speaking, and music-making. They represented merely provisional versions,
comparable to a tape recording. As it pertained to the readers,
"literature" was just a stage direction, comparable to a score.
In Brecht's simple notations,
similar to medieval neumes, this idea of temporariness is aptly expressed: it
aspires to be no more than a memory aid, a basis for improvisation. The famous
laxness of the "Stückeschreiber" in questions of copyright had its
tools in the belief that art belongs to everyone and comes alive only in the
individual's appropriation of it. Because his works - like true folk art - had
to survive in oral tradition, they had to be alterable. Written forms
represented for him in any case "Versuche" (attempts). Under this
label he published those works he considered decidedly not
"classical."
In contrast to Stefan
George, for example, who valued expensive materials and durable bindings,
Brecht preferred temporary stuff. This son of a paper manufacturer showed a notable
reserve regarding paper. He wanted to have his "Lautenfibel"
published on newspaper or wastepaper: It will fall apart in three or four years
so that the volumes will wind up on the junk heap after people have assimilated
them ("Der
zerfällt in drei, vier Jahren, daß die Bände auf den Mist wandern, nachdem man
sie sich einverleibt hat").[10]
Art achieved worth only through its use. As with the rough linen
("Rupfen") costumes and sets of his early stage productions, Brecht
preferred provisional, perishable materials for his texts. He sketched his
songs and poems on thin paper because he hoped his friends would soon learn
them from memory anyway. The written form, this way, was supposed to become
superfluous. A certain mode of speaking ("Sprechhaltung") was fixed
in the melody of the poem which made possible its becoming a configuration of
sound, a "Klanggestalt."
Moreover - and this has
perhaps too seldom been noted - the
process just described often corresponded to the actual productive procedure. Many
of Brecht's texts arose through speaking aloud, through free fantasizing. Even
when later, as Paul Dessau reports, Brecht only murmured while writing, the
texts still derived from speaking aloud. Both the actor Erwin Faber[11]
and the radio reporter and director Alfred Braun have reported that Brecht
needed music while working. Braun describes the creation of the radio play
"Macbeth" in 1927 as follows: "Die gemeinsame Arbeit begann damit, dass das
Grammophon eingeschaltet wurde, und die Rhythmen moderner Schallplattenmusik
untermalten pausenlos unseren Arbeitstag. Dazu ging Brecht im Zimmer auf und ab
und probierte laut die Überschriften der Moritaten, scharf skandierend: Macbeth
- reitet - in der Nacht - über - die Heide."[12]
This text was then immediately
typed out by the secretary sitting in the background, no doubt Elisabeth
Hauptmann.
Many of the texts were
therefore not written down by Brecht himself, but rather spoken and dictated;
they are in this way transcripts of speech ("Sprechprotokolle").
Accordingly he wanted to publish his "Lesebuch für Städtebewohner" as
a speech recording, a work in which he took up the subject of the strongly
opposing attitudes conveyed in big city slang. The written text represented
only a secondary, derivative form, perhaps farther from the spoken
"original" than those musical settings in which the original sound
design ("Klanggestalt") was preserved. Because Brecht's fantasy
apparently was inspired more vividly through acoustical than through optical
stimuli (whence his enduring interest in radio and telephone), the dimension of
sound is a vital part of his art, which includes more songs and radio plays
than previously thought.
If therefore a great
number of Brecht's poems take singing and speaking - a sound concept
("Klangvorstellung") as their starting point, we need to ask not only
about literary traditions involved, but also about those of song and speech.
For Brecht the great reciters of the time, such as Joseph Kainz or Ernst von
Possart, were in no way the standard. As attested by the few sound recordings
he made, his models were more likely the "Moritaten" and ballad
singers ("Bänkelsänger") at the fairs, as well as Frank Wedekind and
Karl Valentin. In the tradition of the ballad singers, he used for his songs
above all only simple, easily remembered melodies which had a certain rhythm
that was neutral in relation to the poetic content. An example would be in
addition to "Baals Lied" above all the "Legende vom toten
Soldaten."
Characteristic for the
"Moritat" style of the ballad singer is the frequent repetition of a
simple, easily remembered melody. It does not overwhelm one as does a great
work of art, but rather serves as a "neutral" vehicle for the text.
The modest melodies of the ballads were used on various occasions and could
inspire the listeners to provide their own additional stanzas. Precisely the
repetition of a known melody was thus an essential pedagogical tool; it enabled
the author as well as the recipient to take up the melody, rhythm, and rhyme
and add something of their own - to become productive themselves. If Brecht
played records ceaselessly while working, he did not do it because he believed
in the uniqueness of the songs. Rather, the constant repetition could expose
for them the model character of a melody or rhythm and inspire them to ideas of
his own: the model impressed on his consciousness became an object for critical
evaluation and therewith a basis for inspiration. For this reason undoubtedly
The point of departure
for his "Legende vom toten Soldaten" (Legend of the Dead Soldier) was
not only a very simple melody, but also the experience of the World War
familiar to his listeners of that time. Belonging further to these premises was
the genre of heroic ballad, which he had called into question with his
moritat-like "Legende." Point by point he carried to their logical
extreme the methods with which a good fighting morale is instilled. In view of
the hard sacrifices the soldiers had to make, he critically examined the
gratitude shown by the Fatherland. Step by step, stanza by stanza Brecht showed
in his song how a man, devoid of will, is transformed into a fighting machine.
The song exposes manipulation by the military apparatus, it shows that almost
every war depends on deception and false promises.
Brecht sketched a very
simple melody for the "Legende vom toten Soldaten," and also
performed the work publicly himself. This melody, which can hardly be called
particularly delicate and sentimental ("besonders zart, sentimental")[14]
consists of a fifth in descending oscillating steps within the minor chord, a
model which returns twice in every stanza. The first time, the melodic phrase
ends on the tonic note; the second time, astonishingly on the fifth. With this,
the normal relationship of antecedent and consequent is reversed. The fifth
leaves the ending open, at the same time emphasizing and calling into question
the word "Helden-Tod" (a hero's death).
Brecht published the
text and melody of his "Legende vom toten Soldaten" in the fifth
lesson of his "Hauspostille," but also accepted revised adaptations
by Hanns Eisler[15] and Kurt
Weill.[16]
Besides Brecht himself, the actor and singer Ernst Busch also made the
"Legende" known to the public. Busch developed his own melodic
version.[17] He kept the
final fifth interval, but developed a three-part ABA Song form in which each
part included two stanzas. He was thereby able to diminish the danger of the
monotonous organ-grinding in the stanzas, without completely severing the tie
to the tradition of the "moritat" singer.
We must differentiate
clearly between the Brecht songs that originated vocally and those for which
the starting point, rather, was speaking aloud. The "Chorale vom Manne
Baal" would be included in the first group, the much stronger,
recitative-like, rhythmically free "Ballade von den Abenteurern" in
the second. As an example, the hit tune "Verlorenes Glück" by
Sprowacker was undoubtedly the origin for the melody of the well-known
"Erinnerung an die Marie A." and therefore parodied by it. From the
combination of melody and text, sentimental love song and sober commentary, a
peculiar emotional brokenness results.
Very many Brecht songs
developed in this way through criticism or parody of a model. Already as a
schoolboy he wanted to travesty Des Knaben Wunderhorn (the collection of
supposed folk songs by the German Romantics Achim von Amim and Clemens
Brentano) with a "Plunderhorn."[18]
For example, the "Marsch ins Dritte Reich" is based on the melody of
the English soldiers' song, "It's a long way to Tipperary,"[19]
whereas in the "Hitler-Chorälen" the devout attitude of the Nazis is
compared to a church congregation. The "Ballade vom Stahlhelm"
depicts a then current variant of the song about Prince Eugen, and the
"Moritat vom Reichstagsbrand" represents a continuation of the
"Moritat von Mackie Messer." Eisler composed a biting parody of the
National Socialist "Horst Wessel Lied" in the
"Kälbermarsch."
Kipling's works provided
the models for the "Ballade vom Weib und vom Soldaten" and the
"Kanonensong." In the "Ballade vom Weib und dem Soldaten"
Brecht even borrowed Kipling's third stanza word for word. Kipling's
instructions for performance, "A soldier's song which people love to sing
during a fast march," inspired Brecht to write a new refrain in a fast
tempo. In this form the song was used for the 1923 premiere of Im Dickicht
der Städte, then revised again in 1925 in collaboration with Franz Bruinier
for a melodramatic chanson, a dialogue between a soldier who sings and a woman
who speaks. But that was not the final form. Hanns Eisler changed the song in
1928 for his stage music to the Feuchtwanger piece, Kalkutta, 4. Mai
(Calcutta, fourth of May). In this form the song was borrowed for the Zurich
premiere of Mutter Courage, and finally re-composed once again in 1946
by Paul Dessau in the United States. The vitality of the most important Brecht
songs shows itself in their variability. This principle of the variability of
art came from the desire to adapt it to the respective occasion. The principle
corresponded moreover to the revision of songs through singing
("Umsingepraxis") characteristic of the folk song in the suburbs of
Brecht's time.
If in the melodramatic
version of the "Ballade vom Weib und dem Soldaten" singing and
speaking stand opposed to one another, reference is thereby made to two levels
of feeling. The singing embodies - as opposed to the speaking - the area of
emotional or even intoxicated urgency that Brecht considered dangerous. That he
himself on the other hand employed such stimulation while on the other
protecting himself from it, can be clearly seen from the melody he composed for
the "Barbara Song."[20]
An emphatic Puccini-like arioso in the refrain contrasts with a dry recitative
style in the stanzas. The text of the refrain warns explicitly against
surrender to feeling, however: "Ja, da kann man sich doch nicht nur
hinlegen .... Ja, da muß
man kalt und herzlos sein" (Yes, you can't just lie down then .... Yes, you have to be cold and heartless).
This opposing of dry
parlando and critically contradicted arioso, which originated with the author
himself, became a model for many Brecht-Weill songs. Certain songs from the
play Happy End can be used here as examples. Like most of Brecht's
theater pieces, this one resulted from a model and a particular occasion. Among
the models, in addition to the Dreigroschenoper, was the parodistic poem
"Vorbildliche Bekehrung eines Branntweinhändlers," which dates from
September 1920. The timely occasion was the one-hundredth anniversary, in May
1929, of the founding of the Salvation Army. Brecht's collaborator, Elisabeth
Hauptmann, who at his suggestion undertook the reworking of the material, was
indeed familiar with this milieu.
A theme of the play and
of most the songs is the clash of sober realism, looking to the present, with
sentimental nostalgia. This clash is fully evident in the "Bilbao
Song" in which the gangster boss Bill Cracker looks back sadly to the
simple but romantically adventurous beginnings of his dance hall. He mourns the
loss of the genuine, raw gangster life which has been replaced by middle-class
sterility. The separation between the sober present and the nostalgically
longed-for past can be found in the contrast of stanzas and refrain. The music
underscores the two levels of feeling in the poem. It produces the intoxication
that was reflected in the previous stanza.
The Viennese composer
Friedrich Cerha, who composed among other pieces a "Baal" opera,
reminisced about a conversation with the philosopher Ernst Bloch, who
apparently was present at the beginnings of Happy End and was
particularly impressed by the collective work: "Das habe ja niemand
`gemacht,' das hätten alle gemacht! Brecht hat improvisiert und dazu sofort gesungen, und
Weill saß am Klavier. Die Leute haben Witze und Blödsinn gemacht, und es wurde
gelacht und getrunken. Dann sind alle nach Hause gegangen. Der Weill hat den
Kopf voll gehabt und hat sich am nächsten Morgen hingesetzt und hat dann
geschrieben."[21]
This report, which resembles
the reminiscence by Alfred Braun quoted earlier, is further evidence for the
close connection that singing and speaking had for Brecht. Art developed with
him through improvising on a model, a process that was often collective. One
can easily imagine Brecht becoming inspired by the ringing assonances like
"Bills Ballhaus in Bilbao," while Elisabeth Hauptmann then penned the
text and Kurt Weill noted down the melodic and rhythmic gestus.
The music in the
"Bilbao Song" is a very effective agent of text illumination, but to
be sure is not commentary. The opposite is the case, though, with the
"Song of Mandelay," which along with the "Bilbao Song" and
the "Ballade von der Höllen-Lili" was one of the few songs portraying
the gangster world in Happy End. The "Mandelay Song" also has
a lengthened and musically emphatic refrain following a very fast stanza, but
here with a very self-contradictory text. First come the words, "Liebe ist
doch an Zeit nicht gebunden" (Love isn't bound to time), followed by the
cold thought of the expensive bordello price, "Johnny, mach rascher, es
geht um Sekunden" (Johnny, hurry up, seconds are ticking). Thus the
"timeless" love-emphasis is questioned and commented on. The
lengthened melody of the refrain yearns to enjoy full pleasure in blissful
oblivion, while the text reminds us of the temporal and material limitations.
More devoted to singing
than the gangsters in Happy End are the conscripts of the Salvation Army
for whom it is a means to conversion, such as in the traditional Heilsarmee
Songs like "Geht hinein in die Schlacht," "Bruder, gib dir einen
Stoß," "Fürchte dich nicht," or "In der Jugend goldnem
Schimmer," which the Chicago gangsters smile upon as high-minded religious
trash. The play's main character, the Salvation Army lieutenant Lilian Holiday,
therefore strives for more modern, less obvious means. The "Matrosen
Song" belongs above all in this category. The first stanza, in which
sailors dream of the pleasures of whisky and cigars, of Far Eastern
"Schiffsromantik" and sensual pleasures in life, as expressed in the
swinging tango rhythm, does not permit religious thoughts to surface. Text,
rhythm, and the polished harmony make the song one of ambience. The refrain has
an rapturous character corresponding to the words, "Ja das Meer ist blau
so blau" (Yes the sea is blue, so blue), but is oddly aimless in tonality.
After beginning in a disguised A minor it ends surprisingly in C major. This
corresponds to the continuation of the text, "Und wenn die Chose aus ist,
dann fängts von vorne an" (And when the thing is over, then it starts from
the beginning). In the unexpected softening to C major the transition to the
last refrain is possibly hinted at. In the South Sea paradise a storm begins,
bringing the sailors back to faith. Weill musically hints at this upheaval by
deleting the tango rhythm for a few measures and introducing a kind of funeral
march rhythm.
Observing the effect of
the sailor song on the gangster Bill Cracker, the Salvation Army lieutenant
sees that she can get him to change his ways with sentimental songs. She
purposefully uses the song "Surabaya Johnny" to stop a planned bank
robbery, for example. The theme of this song is seduction's triumph over
reason. The woman recognizes the crudeness of her friend but still succumbs to
him. At the same time, in the "Matrosen Song" one can interpret the
melody of the refrain as a hidden allusion to this conflict. The blues tempo is
retained. Specifically at the words, "Mein Gott, und ich liebe dich
so" (My God, and I love you so), the singing changes to speaking against
all traditional conventions for such a passage. The music interprets the
woman's confession of love as grief - she cannot extricate herself from
the relationship. The music clarifies the attitude hidden behind the text. The
second time the words "Ich liebe dich so" are sung however, the
harmony modulates to an unexpected key on the word so, again emphasizing
the abnormality of this love.
Bill Cracker is so moved
by this song that he forgets his planned robbery and converts. In the end both
the Heilsarmee and the gangsters declare themselves for modern
capitalism and strike up the "Hosianna Rockefeller" together. Good
and evil, early church choral and secular dance music are reconciled with one
another here. Accompanied by harmonium and bell tones and interrupted by
"hosanna" cries from the chorus, the adoration of the great
capitalist then turns, however, into a crass foxtrot rhythm. For this Weill
borrowed the melody of his earlier song, "Berlin im Licht," which he
composed in 1928 for a week's festivities celebrating the electric lighting
industry. With this, he provided a connection between Chicago and Berlin and in
addition reduced the halo of Rockefeller & Co. to what it was - an
illuminated advertisement.
V
In the Brecht
settings by Hanns Eisler, a student of Schoenberg's, there was only rarely such
melodic emphasis as in the "Seeräuber Jenny," "Alabama
Song," or "Matrosen Song." More strongly than did Weill, the
Marxist-schooled Eisler protected himself against misunderstandings and against
a purely musical consumerism at the price, to be sure, of lesser success with
the middle-class public. In Brecht's collaboration with Eisler the Bach Passions
became the poetical-musical models. On this model are based the text and music
of the proletarian "Lehrstück" Die Maßnahme, parts of the
"Mutter," the "Deutsche Sinfonie," and the "Lenin
Requiem." The change from the model of the ballad song to that of the Bach
Passions was not only an aesthetic decision, but primarily a political
one; it signified the change from the individual to the party. Eisler
emphasized this superimposed aspect through the rhythmical symbol of the
anapest, which since Die Maßnahme had stood for class struggle.[22]
It was Eisler who in these years around 1930 also acquainted Brecht with a new
form of speaking, that of the "Agitprop-Truppen." In his "Ratschlägen zur
Einstudierung der Maßnahme" he demanded of the chorus that they not sing with
expression, but as if giving a lecture at a mass meeting.[23]
Although this
was certainly not the only form of speaking that served as a starting point for
the Eisler settings of Brecht, it is crucial that such forms were included at
all in Brecht's texts. While in his poems and songs the early Brecht, as ballad
singer, still recorded essentially his own ways of speaking, later he made use
of outside impulses more and more. One of the most important speaker/singers
for him and for Eisler came to be Ernst Busch, who enjoyed popularity among the
working class.[24] His method
of speaking imprinted itself, for example, on the text and melody of the
"Solidaritätslied." While Brecht usually slipped poems to be set to
Eisler without commentary - trusting him to give an exact reading - he often
read them aloud to Dessau, "ruhig, zart und ganz auf Sinn, so musikalisch,
wie kaum ein Dichter wohl je vorgelesen hat" (softly, tenderly, and
entirely with regard to the meaning, more musically than probably any poet had
ever read aloud).[25]
In order to
increase the useful value of his poems, Brecht wanted them to be tied to
melodies. Not only in his Hauspostille, but also in the collection Lieder
Gedichte Chöre and the Wiegenlieder für Arbeitermütter he placed
great value on the melodies being published as well.[26]
The music conveyed his poems in sound, in social situations; it made them
easily remembered and at the same time invited variation and change.
Brecht, Gesammelte Werke, Vol. 8: Gedichte, ed. Elisabeth Hauptmann
(Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 196, p. 285.
[1]
Werner Frisch and K. W. Obermeier, Brecht in Augsburg (Frankfurt am Main:
Suhrkamp, 1976), p. 133.
[2]
See Bertolt Brecht, Arbeitsjournal, ed. Werner Hecht (Frankfurt am Main:
Suhrkamp, 1973), 16 August 1944.
[3]
Brecht, "Über die Verwendung von Musik für ein episches Theater,"
in: Gesammelte Werke (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1967), 15:480.
[4]
See Albrecht Dümling, "Umwertung der Werte: Das Verhältnis Stefan Georges
zur Musik," Jahrbuch des Staatlichen Instituts für Musikforschung Preußischer
Kulturbesitz 1981/82, ed. Dagmar Droysen-Reber (Berlin: Merseburger, 1982), pp.
9-92.
[5]
See Albrecht Dümling, Laßt euch nicht verführen: Brecht
und die Musik (Munich: Kindler, 1985), pp. 97ff.
[6]
"I am still occupied with the limited power that human beings have over
themselves as human beings. There is no language that everyone understands.
There is no bullet that hits the mark. The influence works the other way around:
it overpowers us (hypnosis)"; Brecht, Tagebücher
1920-1922 (Berlin and Weimar: Aufbau, 1976), p. 68.
[7]
Heinrich Besseler, "Grundfragen des musikalischen Hörens, "Jahrbuch
der Musikbibliothek Peters für 1925“ (Leipzig: Peters, 1926), pp. 35-52.
[8]
See Johannes Hodek, Musikalisch-pädagogische Bewegung zwischen Demokratie und
Faschismus: Zur Konkretisierung der Faschismus-Kritik Th. W. Adornos (Weinheim
and Basel: Beltz, 1977).
[9]
Brecht, "Wo ich gelernt habe," in Gesammelte
Werke, 19:502-7.
[10]
Brecht, Tagebücher, p. 37.
[11]
Unpublished interview with the author, 1 January 1979.
[12]
“The communal work began with the gramophone being turned on, and the rhythms
of modern record music ceaselessly accompanied our work day. Meanwhile Brecht paced
back and forth in the room and
tested out loud the headings of the 'Moritaten,' sharply scanning
Many of the texts were therefore not written down by Brecht himself, but
rather spoken the verse, 'Macbeth - reitet - in der Nacht - über - die Heide"'; Alfred
Braun, `Achtung, Achtung, hier ist Berlin!": Geschichte des Deutschen
Rundfunks in Berlin 1923-1932 (Berlin: Haude und Spenger, 1968), p. 42.
[13]
Brecht, Gesammelte Werke, Vol. 8: Gedichte, ed. Elisabeth Hauptmann (Frankfurt
am Main: Suhrkamp, 196, p. 285.
[14] Werner Mittenzwei, Das Leben
des Bertolt Brecht oder Der Umgang mit den Welträtseln (Berlin and Weimar:
Aufbau, 1986), 1:80.
[15] See Grabs 1.56
in Manfred Grabs, Hanns Eisler, Kompositionen - Schriften - Literatur. Ein
Handbuch (Leipzig: VEB Deutscher Verlag für Musik, 1984), p. 38.
[16] David Drew, Kurt
Weill - A Handbook (London: Faber, 1987), p. 222.
[17] Fritz
Hennenberg, ed., Das große Brecht-Liederbuch (Frankfurt am Main:
Suhrkamp, 1984), 1:1of.
[18] Hanns Otto
Münsterer, Bert Brecht: Erinnerungen aus den Jahren 1917.1922 (Berlin
and Weimar: Aufbau, 1977), p. 140.
[19] In Brecht's collected
poems this text is published under the title "Der Führer hat gesagt."
[20] Hennenberg, Das große Brecht-Liederbuch, 1:62ff.
[21] "No one really `made'
it, everyone made it! Brecht improvised and sang simultaneously, too, and Weill
sat at the piano. The people told jokes and talked nonsense, laughed and drank.
Then they all went home. Weill had gotten filled with new ideas, and sat down
the next morning to write"; Interview with Friedrich Cerha. Published in
Dümling, Laßt euch nicht verführen, p. 657.
[22] See Dümling, pp. 301ff.
[23] Hanns Eisler,
"Einige Ratschläge zur Einstudierung der Maßnahme," Musik und
Politik: Schriften 1924-1948, ed. Günter Mayer (Leipzig: VEB Deutscher
Verlag für Musik, 1973), p. 168.
[24] See Ludwig
Hoffmann and Karl Siebig, Ernst Busch: Eine Biografie in Texten, Bildern und
Dokumenten (Berlin IWestl: Das Europäische Buch, 1987).
[25] Paul Dessau, Notizen
zu Noten, ed. Fritz Hennenberg (Leipzig: Reclam, 1974), p. 41.
[26] See Brecht, Briefe (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1981), p. 173.