
Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- List of Illustrations
- Preface
- Acknowledgments
- Abbreviations
- Notes to the Reader
- Introduction: Why Martinů the Thinker?
- Part One A Chronicle of a Composer
- 1 Martinů's Parisian Criticism
- 2 General Polemics
- 3 Until 1943
- 4 Martinů's Creative Process
- 5 On the Ridgefield Diary
- 6 1945
- 7 A Return to Prague?
- 8 Banished and Revived
- 9 Final Years
- Part Two The Composer Speaks
- Part Three Documentation and Further Reading
- Notes
- Bibliography
- Index of Martinů's Musical Works
- General Index
4 - Martinů's Creative Process
from Part One - A Chronicle of a Composer
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 25 July 2019
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- List of Illustrations
- Preface
- Acknowledgments
- Abbreviations
- Notes to the Reader
- Introduction: Why Martinů the Thinker?
- Part One A Chronicle of a Composer
- 1 Martinů's Parisian Criticism
- 2 General Polemics
- 3 Until 1943
- 4 Martinů's Creative Process
- 5 On the Ridgefield Diary
- 6 1945
- 7 A Return to Prague?
- 8 Banished and Revived
- 9 Final Years
- Part Two The Composer Speaks
- Part Three Documentation and Further Reading
- Notes
- Bibliography
- Index of Martinů's Musical Works
- General Index
Summary
Martinů's one substantial essay from his Notebook from Darien (1943), “On the Creative Process,” features his account of the “initial impulse” at the inception of a musical work and how the composer responds. One of his goals is to refute the idea that the composer transmits meaning concretely, or that the listener can retrace the composer's emotional world in the music. At the opening of his essay, he describes the state by which the composer realizes the initial impulse as “subconscious concentration,” a premise having wide-ranging implications on his thought.
Although his idea of subconscious concentration is based on his own practice as a composer, he provides only a few examples of how this came into play in his works. Thus to shed light on this idea, we can take note of two experiences from his youth that he relates to Šafránek in a letter from 7 June 1958, which comes from a time the two men were corresponding at length over drafts of the second biography. Employing the term “open mind” to describe a certain state of freedom from conscious thought, Martinů clarifies the import of what he had once observed from taking part in a dictation exercise at the Prague Conservatory:
Here you do not explain that dictation clearly. I did not mean that all of my dictations were flawless. The point is that in that one dictation, I stopped following the notes consciously. I became lost in thought after the fourth note, but continued, even though I knew I was lost, just so I could finish the dictation. This means that I lost control of myself, that I was working without conscious involvement, or with an open mind. What resulted was a flawless dictation, and it was the only such one in class. You can imagine my surprise. And a still greater surprise was my realization of what had happened, but ex post facto.
He then revises another account by Šafránek about how he had suddenly found himself working in a similar state. In this case, it was while producing the sketch to what he considered to be a conceptually complete work.
- Type
- Chapter
- Information
- Martinu's Subliminal StatesA Study of the Composer's Writings and Reception, with a Translation of His American Diaries, pp. 37 - 43Publisher: Boydell & BrewerPrint publication year: 2018