Pierre Boulez was a great letter writer and a frequent correspondent. Since the extent of his correspondence is vast and very little of it has been published in English, this chapter looks solely at Boulez’s epistolary exchanges with the composers Karlheinz Stockhausen, Olivier Messiaen, György Ligeti and Elliott Carter. While the correspondence with Stockhausen is one of the richest of all, only a brief sense of this can be given here. The correspondences have been selected on the basis that all four composers were pivotally important for Boulez in different ways. He had important friendships with them. He valued and performed their music and they in turn were fulsome in their appreciation of his championing their music as well as of his achievements as a composer. This brief consideration shows how Boulez not only pursued his own musical path but also promoted the music of his composer friends.

Musical form is a central issue in the discussion between Boulez and Stockhausen. This discussion, through a dense correspondence and essays, reflects the changes the notion of musical material underwent in European serial music up to its culmination in the mid 1960s. This mutation is examined in three steps. From the basic formulation of integral serial music in Boulez’s Structures and Stockhausen’s Studie I; through a reconsideration of the hierarchy between the parameters of pitch and rhythm in Boulez’s Le Marteau sans maître and Stockhausen’s Gesang der Jünglinge and Gruppen; to a shift in the notion of material from production to placing as a consequence of reflections on the treatment and perception of sound and their incidences on the shaping of time in Stockhausen’s Mikrophonie I and Boulez’s Éclat.

This chapter focuses on the use of spatial technique in key works that span a great deal of Pierre Boulez’s career: Poésie pour pouvoir (1958) for orchestra and tape, Domaines (1968) for clarinet and ensemble, Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna (1974–5) for orchestra in eight groups and Répons (1981) for six soloists, live electronics and ensemble. These works are then compared with spatialised instrumental music by his contemporaries, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Karel Goeyvaerts, Iannis Xenakis and Luigi Nono, which will shed light on Boulez’s specific approach to this artistic practice. Boulez’s unique contribution to the history of spatialisation lies in the strong articulatory function he ascribed to this performance practice. He created a typology of sonic movements that clarify the structural relationships of his spatialised works.

The new music festivals at Donaueschingen and Darmstadt and Boulez’s Domaine Musical concert series were formative for Boulez’s development as a composer, conductor, writer and institution-builder in the 1950s and 1960s. The Donaueschingen festival was significant for premieres of Boulez’s music, including ‘Tombeau’, the final section of Pli selon pli, which was performed in part there in 1959. Boulez’s attendance was intermittent at the Darmstadt new music courses, but he nevertheless interacted there with key figures from the serial generation, such as Karlheinz Stockhausen and Luigi Nono, and Darmstadt was the venue where Boulez first delivered the lectures that were published later as Boulez on Music Today. Boulez created his own concert series in Paris, the Domaine Musical, which he oversaw from its inception in 1953 until 1967, with the aim of performing key works from the first phase of musical modernism, along with music composed by his own generation.

Through the mediation of Messiaen and Leibowitz, Boulez became acquainted with the repertoire of modern music during his student years, leading him to conceive of its synthesis at an early stage. First with Cage, then with Stockhausen, he maintained a fruitful dialogue, linked to the construction of a coherent language. Nevertheless, he was suspicious of Darmstadt and critical of the music he heard there, such as that of Nono. From the 1960s onwards, he pursued his compositional approach in a more solitary fashion, while interpreting the music of his contemporaries as a conductor. Open to the influences of writers and painters but an adept of absolute music that produced its own meanings, Boulez drew close to contemporaries such as Berio, Carter and Ligeti, who admired his work and his commitment to creation. In his writings, however, he relies essentially on his predecessors, making almost no reference to his contemporaries.

This chapter examines the way in which the idea of a European avant-garde is formed in the wake of Messiaen’s thought and the ways in which this reflexively informed Messiaen’s own work. It focuses in particular on the theoretical achievements of Ligeti, Stockhausen, and Xenakis and how formed a new ways of thinking about music.

The concept of serialism appears conspicuously in the academic literature on twentieth-century music in technical, theoretical, and philosophical contexts. These various contexts, expressed over the course of much of the twentieth century, expose differing connotations of the serial concept. Part I of this chapter explores the serial concept before 1945, reflecting on the multi-dimensional origins of the concept in Arnold Schoenberg’s earliest serial compositions and the significance of Olivier Messiaen’s distinctive serial conceptions prior to the Second World War. Part II explores the serial movement in Europe after 1945, the prominent roles of the journal Die Reihe and the Darmstadt New Music Courses, and the contrasting approaches and attitudes to serialism in the United States after 1945. Tensions between rupture and continuity on both sides of the Atlantic and divergent priorities in discourse about new music demonstrate that theorising serialism entails an understanding of its dynamic disposition, instability, and impermanence.

Throughout his lifetime, Brahms accompanied dozens of singers in a variety of settings, ranging from huge public halls to his friends’ homes, and conducted many others in choirs. Some of those working relationships were one-offs, arising from the widespread practice of including a set of piano-accompanied songs within most concerts and the expediency and cost-effectiveness of using local talent. Others were deep, enduring partnerships; the timbres and interpretative approaches of those singers are surely ingrained in his vocal music. Overall, Brahms’s singers were generally not part of the international operatic elite associated with Verdi, Bizet and Massenet. Figures like Julius Stockhausen (1826–1906) and Raimund von Zur-Mühlen (1854–1931)were almost exclusively concert singers and, later on, teachers. Most hailed from German-speaking territories, reflecting Brahms’s own concert career.

During his lifetime, Brahms accumulated a sizeable fortune. Although the early days were not without difficulties, his finances then accumulated steadily and virtually uninterruptedly. When he died in 1897, he left behind not only manuscripts of his own works, but also an extensive collection of other composers’ autograph manuscripts (including of Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann, etc.) as well as bonds worth over 181,000 Gulden.The size of the sum is evident when one compares the rent that he paid his landlady Coelestine Truxa between 1887 and 1897 for his three-room apartment in Vienna’s Karlsgasse, which amounted half-yearly to 347 Gulden and 25 Kreuzer.

Brahms grew up in the Hamburg‘Gängeviertel’, an area of workers, small-scale artisans and tradesmen in modest circumstances [see Ch. 1 ‘Childhood in Hamburg’]. Later on, when he could determine his own lifestyle, luxury still held no appeal.

Throughout his lifetime, Brahms accompanied dozens of singers in a variety of settings, ranging from huge public halls to his friends’ homes, and conducted many others in choirs. Some of those working relationships were one-offs, arising from the widespread practice of including a set of piano-accompanied songs within most concerts and the expediency and cost-effectiveness of using local talent. Others were deep, enduring partnerships; the timbres and interpretative approaches of those singers are surely ingrained in his vocal music. Overall, Brahms’s singers were generally not part of the international operatic elite associated with Verdi, Bizet and Massenet. Figures like Julius Stockhausen (1826–1906) and Raimund von Zur-Mühlen (1854–1931)were almost exclusively concert singers and, later on, teachers. Most hailed from German-speaking territories, reflecting Brahms’s own concert career.

Typically for many musicians of his day, Brahms was artistically active in multiple ways, not only as a composer but also as a performer, mainly as a pianist and conductor, piano teacher and director of musical societies. He never perceived himself as primarily a pianist; however, playing the piano – in private and public – was inseparable from his artistic and compositional identity. Schumann remarked on this as early as 9 November 1853 in a letter to the Leipzig publishers Breitkopf & Härtel, to whom he had recommended the young man: ‘his playing is truly a part of his music; I cannot recall hearing such unique sound effects’. Brahms received his initial piano training in Hamburg from Otto Friedrich Willibald Cossel and then from Cossel’s teacher Eduard Marxsen, who had trained in Vienna and who also advised Brahms in composition (Brahms never attended a conservatory) [see Ch. 1 ‘Childhood in Hamburg’].