Strauss’s Metamorphosen: The Endless Process of Knowing Oneself

Michalis Boliakis

Richard Strauss’s Metamorphosen, Study for 23 Solo Strings (TrV 290, AV 142),[1] was composed in 1944–1945, and is considered one of the most important late works of the composer. The first part of this discussion focuses on the genesis of the work, more specifically on the biographical context that might have led to its composition. A new section is thereafter dedicated to the choice of the title and the probable reasons behind it. Finally, we will try to determine why this work sounds so different from any other by the composer, and especially from contemporaneous pieces like the Oboe Concerto (TrV 292, AV 144). Strauss arguably developed his own idiosyncratic musical language through many decades of prolific compositional activity, and Metamorphosen seems to depart from it in many ways. Our goal will be to identify the specific elements of the music that sculpt the work’s peculiarity.

Metamorphosen was composed in response to a commission made by Paul Sacher in August 1944; the latter also conducted the premiere in January 1946.[2] Its darkness and lamenting, tortured character, along with the famous quotation of the second movement of Beethoven’s Third Symphony, gave birth to the idea that Strauss drew inspiration from tragic events related to the Second World War. The first important musicological discussion of the piece was made by Ludwig Kusche and Kurt Wilhelm in 1951,[3] based on their examination of the composer’s sketchbooks, which include most of the main themes of Metamorphosen in their initial and more elaborate stages, but also contain his sketches for the contemporaneously composed waltz München. The authors mistook a sketch for the minor section of the waltz for a preliminary version of the second theme of Metamorphosen (ex. 1), and thereby connected the composer’s accompanying inscription “Trauer um München” to the origin of the work; several generations of scholars and listeners were convinced that Metamorphosen was  inspired by the disastrous bombing raids in Germany at the end of the war and their gruesome consequences, notably the destruction of several major opera houses.

This idea finally turned out to be fallacious, as Birgit Lodes explains in her 1994 article;[5] she offers a new, insightful reading of Strauss’s sketches and dissociates the ones for München from the ones for Metamorphosen, while also specifying that there may have been some overlapping in the compositional period of these two pieces. Furthermore, based on the composer’s own words, she provides information on his mental and psychological state at that time, and puts forward the idea that Strauss’s lamentation takes root in deeper, more complex and universal concerns than Germany’s dreadful state after the war: he seems to be troubled by the decline of Western culture and specifically that of the German music tradition. The composer sadly realizes that he has outlived his own works; by the end of his life he already sees them disappearing into oblivion. More generally, he feels that all German musical “monuments” of the past, Beethoven’s, Brahms’s, Wagner’s works, for instance, are eventually doomed to be forgotten, which fills him with despair and certainly a sense of the meaninglessness of his existence, activity, and contribution to the world. According to Lodes, this very feeling is reflected in Metamorphosen.

Given Strauss’s lifelong attachment to programmatic support for his pieces, and the enigmatic title of the Metamorphosen, research has also naturally been orientated to literary works as sources of inspiration. The most prevailing thesis on the matter associates the work with Goethe’s poem Niemand wird sich selber kennen, notably because the composer reused ideas from his own (unfinished) setting of the text in question in Metamorphosen.[6] Strauss was obsessed with Goethe in the final years of his life; the title of the piece itself is probably a direct reference to the poet’s The Metamorphosis of Plants and The Metamorphosis of Animals. It has been pinpointed by Schmid, however, that the metamorphosis the composer deals with in the music is an ironically and bitterly pessimistic distortion of Goethe’s; according to the latter, humans can evolve and become better, more elevated beings through self-knowledge; in Metamorphosen, Strauss probably suggests that self-knowledge might also have a negative effect, and lead humans back to their bestiality, to their most cruel, violent, “unhuman” nature.[7]  The title of the piece might also be a reference to Ovid’s Metamorphoses, a milestone in the history of Western literature that inspired many later important figures, such as Dante and Shakespeare. Through its mythical-historical narration of the Western world’s early stages and its emblematic poetic use of the Latin language, it represents the most suitable, timeless reference to the Western culture whose decline Strauss seems to deplore.

It is important to bear in mind that Metamorphosen is presented as a non-programmatic work by the composer; studying its possible connection with literary works is always enlightening, but the choice of its title might mainly originate in the music. Lodes, by means of comparison among the sketches of the different themes, manages to show that they are all related to each other; they often share common melodic material, following the process of Substanzgemeinschaft, often translated as “thematic transformation,” but literally meaning “community of substance,” or simply “common substance.” This phenomenon of thematic affiliation can be examined horizontally, from one theme to the other, or vertically, in the various occurrences of superimposition of the themes within the final work. Her analysis provides important keys for the understanding of Metamorphosen, and it seems therefore relevant to mention some of them here. The themes, to which the following observations make reference, and the numbers assigned to them by Wilfried Brennecke, can be found as an appendix at the end of this essay.

Lodes points out that Themes I and II, in their very first sketched version, bear several resemblances to each other: they both contain a falling semitone in the upper voice, which creates an obvious connection when they are heard one after the other; furthermore, the bass follows a descending chromatic motion at the beginning of Theme I, and then an ascending chromatic figure in a later sketch of Theme II. The two themes thus seem to prolong and complete one another (ex. 2a and 2b).

The thematic affiliation of the motives is also noticeable in their overall shapes, as one may see in example 3. Themes II, III and VII have in common the downward motion of a major or minor sixth, followed by an upward leap of an octave and a descending diatonic figure by steps. Theme III, in one of the sketches, starts by quoting theme I, and then it repeats itself twice in two different keys. Through this process of thematic affiliation and transformation, each theme seems to become a distorting mirror of itself and of the other themes; a piece whose melodic material is based on this peculiarity could surely receive the title Metamorphosen, and is by nature unique in Strauss’s output. 

Installing common features among successive themes is nothing new in Strauss’s composition; as a matter of fact, in his case, it would be hardly possible to express any kind of general idea on his thematic treatment, given his prolific compositional activity and long life, and given the incredibly large stylistic span of his works. However, one may affirm that he often combines similarity with contrast, by giving his themes various and very different characters, along with the features they share, so that the successive sections of a piece may be at the same time intrinsically connected but also easily identifiable and diverse enough. Examples of affiliation and contrast among themes can be found in almost any of Strauss’s works, but, for the sake of conciseness, we will demonstrate here some of them in the Oboe Concerto, which seems to be an ideal pairing for comparison: although much lighter in character, it was written within the same time frame, is also an instrumental, non-programmatic piece, and has more or less the same duration as Metamorphosen.

The opening section of the concerto (up to the beginning of the  ¾ B-flat andante) consists of four main themes (ex. 4). All of them appear here in their very first occurrence within the piece. Along with the obvious similarities among them, one is immediately struck by features that are unique to each of them and characterize them unequivocally, for instance, the rhythmic pattern in Theme I (mm. 1, 3, 5 – half- or quarter-note tied to a succession of sixteenth-notes) and its long slurs, the remote key (A-flat major) of Theme II, the articulation, repeated notes, and longer values of Theme III, the huge staccato leaps and the thirty-second scale in Theme IV; the accompanying figure shown below the themes in example 4 is omnipresent in the exposition of these themes and functions as a unifier. It is also a constituting element of Theme IV and has obvious rhythmic and melodic affiliations with the other themes, too. This figure shows that Strauss is also concerned with the coherence and motivic unity of the movement, while the aforementioned differences among the themes inform the listener that he is probably even more focused on contrast and variety. In an imaginary scale whose one edge is absolute resemblance and the other is contrast and variety, the piece would find itself at least in the middle, if not more inclined toward contrast. On the other hand, Metamorphosen represents an example of a work whose cursor is clearly placed closer to resemblance and uniformity than anywhere else.

Jürgen May makes an interesting point: the first two measures of Theme I in Metamorphosen include a passus duriusculus (minor second) and a saltus duriusculus (augmented fourth, see ex. 6).[10] These two intervals, associated with suffering and pain since the dawn of Western music, are extremely recurrent in Metamorphosen, notably through the numerous repetitions of Theme I. They are part of the identity of the work. To this should be added that Themes II, III, and VII, which also occur frequently, include long descending stepwise motions as one of their main constitutive elements, thereby also participating in the mourning atmosphere.

Lodes also highlights, as mentioned above, the vertical Substanzgemeinschaft in Metamorphosen, which we could translate as superimposition of thematic materials. Indeed, Strauss utilizes this tool constantly, thereby giving the impression of an unbreakable unity of the piece, of a single character and a common message that inhabit every moment of it. A few examples of superimpositions from the first measures of the piece are given in example 5 on an indicative basis, but the principle is observed throughout the entire work.  

In a more general way, the superimposition of thematic material is the key to the compositional process of Metamorphosen: we might even be tempted to say that Strauss here decided to test his aptitude for traditional counterpoint, hence the word “study” that accompanies the title of the piece. The counterpoint in his operas and symphonic poems, for instance, is most momentary of the time; it follows much more loosely the rules dictated by Renaissance and Baroque masters of the style, and seems to be much more dependent on harmonic context. Thus, in his compositions, Strauss often superimposes themes in different keys, or in some cases, he exposes themes upon a harmonic background that belongs to a different key. In those cases, each of the themes conserves its tonal affiliation and the resulting polytonality or dissonance often sounds like “easy-listening,” almost pleasant to the ear, brief and light. Metamorphosen works totally differently: the themes themselves still belong to a key or several successive keys if they modulate, but in a less definitive, slightly more ambiguous way that makes them ideal for counterpoint. A simple comparison between the Oboe Concerto and the Metamorphosen demonstrates this point: in Metamorphosen, Theme I, whose identity relies largely on its harmonization,  modulates constantly; Theme II starts on a single note and reveals its key only in the second measure, but the enharmonic note on the third beat of its third measure already orients it to a new key (see ex. 5, mm. 9–11); Theme III, similarly to Theme I, is tonally ambiguous in its first measure, before installing a key during two measures, and then modulating again.

Strauss, who is often so attached to a clear tonal and harmonic context, from which stem, almost effortlessly, all his audacious modulations and dissonances, changes his strategy in Metamorphosen. He takes into account and observes more closely rules that determine polyphony from the time of Monteverdi and the seconda prattica. In passages where harmony and key are not his basis of compositional thought, audacious dissonances are still possible, probably even more possible than before, but in a different way: the consonant background from which dissonances emerge is here defined by the consonant vertical intervals, such as thirds, fifths, and sixths, which are the “well-sounding” reference. The consonant chords formed by these intervals are still triads, but their individual function and the ways of interacting among them are revisited. The attraction between certain degrees of the scale is less present, and Strauss favors triadic progressions that result from free chromatic and diatonic motion of the voices, rather than from harmonic “necessities” such as a resolution of a leadingtone. Out of the seven themes of Metamorphosen, Theme I is the one that observes this type of progression most closely, thereby reminding of chordal successions that occur in composers like Carlo Gesualdo (1560–1613):

The contrapuntal way of composing is of course never used exclusively, but applied along with harmony-based thinking, and the coexistence of both is reflected in the pace with which the chords and key areas change, which is almost regular, steady. There are few moments in the piece in which a key seems to be installed for longer than two measures, as for example mm. 82–111 (G major). The work also uses abundantly enharmonic notes, as in m. 3 (ex. 6), where the E becomes an F flat; this transformation of the notes is probably also an illustration of the concept of metamorphosis.

Metamorphosen also bears a certain amount of evident features that add to its peculiarity; first of all, its use of only one category of instruments, so rare in Strauss’s output: the composer, who is elsewhere obsessed with colorful orchestration and unusual associations of timbres, writes for twenty-three strings, and even uses an extremely limited number of playing techniques: no col legno or sul ponticello is used, for instance, and there are only three notes played pizzicato (mm. 26, 30, 34 in the basses)! In terms of articulation, almost all phrases are indicated legato, with hardly any staccato, tenuto, or other articulation throughout the work.

No wonder Metamorphosen is a study for Strauss: not only does he limit himself in terms of timbres, playing techniques, and articulations, but also in terms of rhythmic variety. The composer of Salome’s polymetric, highly complex music writes here a piece half an hour long in an unchanging 4/4 meter. The values of the notes are either binary or ternary subdivisions of the beats, never more sophisticated than that. There is a relative smoothness in the transitions from longer to shorter values that avoids too-sudden rhythmic contrasts. Syncopated patterns never occur in values shorter than quarter notes, and the piece hardly contains any thirty-second notes at all; the latter appear exclusively in four-note conjunct ascending or descending motion (mm. 361–363, for instance).

In conclusion, Strauss seems to have made several conscious choices that depart from his usual practice in his writing of Metamorphosen. The resulting piece is a stylistic study that revisits and rediscovers the Western musical heritage from the Renaissance to the composer’s time, in the manner of a contemplation of these rich centuries of human creation. What the listener also perceives from the beginning to the end is a unique sense of heaviness and lament. Strauss’s usual style is associated with easy, smooth, and effortless flowing of the music, no matter how far-fetched, dissonant, or audacious the musical events themselves, and no matter how heavy the character of the piece (even in Elektra, for instance). Metamorphosen is a piece based on uniformity and single-mindedness, and yet nothing sounds gently flowing or smooth; its atmosphere is as far from the Viennese lightness as one may imagine; each modulation is painful, each figure is dramatic, declamatory, tormenting, like an introspection into the composer’s darkest and deepest thoughts and feelings, through which he still seeks to know himself as composer and as human, after all those years of life, just as in Goethe’s poem:

Appendix: The main themes of Metamorphosen according to Wilfried Brennecke[12]

           Footnotes 

[1] The TrV numbers refer to Franz Trenner, Richard Strauss Werkverzeichnis (Vienna: Verlag Dr. Richard Strauss, 1999). AV refers to Erich Hermann Müller von Asow, Richard Strauss, thematisches Verzeichnis (Vienna: L. Doblinger, 1959–1974).

[2] Mark-Daniel Schmid, ed., The Richard Strauss Companion (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003), 222.

[3] Ludwig Kusche and Kurt Wilhelm, “Richard Strauss’s ‘Metamorphosen’,” Tempo no. 19 (1951): 19–22. 

[4] This sketchbook is in private possession, but it can be studied on microfilm at the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek München.

[5] Birgit Lodes, “Richard Strauss' Skizzen zu den ‘Metamorphosen’ und ihre Beziehung zu ‘Trauer um München’,” Die Musikforschung 47, no. 3 (July–September 1994): 234–252.

[6] Schmid, The Richard Strauss Companion, 222.

[7] Ibid., 222.

[8] This sketchbook is today part of the Richard-Strauss-Archiv in Garmisch.

[9] The example has been copied from Lodes, “Richard Strauss’ Skizzen,” 248.

[10] Shown in Charles Youmans, ed., The Cambridge Companion to Richard Strauss (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), 188.

[11] Goethe’s text and the English translation come from Stanley Corngold, “On Richard Strauss’s Metamorphosen,” YellowBarn, accessed January 31, 2020, https://www.yellowbarn.org/blog/richardstrauss%E2%80%99s-metamorphosen.

[12] Wilfried Brennecke, “Die Metamorphosen-Werke von Richard Strauss und Paul Hindemith,” Schweizerische Musikzeitung 103 (1963): 133.

Works Cited

Brennecke, Wilfried. “Die Metamorphosen-Werke von Richard Strauss und Paul Hindemith.” Schweizerische Musikzeitung 103 (1963): 129ff. and 197ff.

Corngold, Stanley. “On Richard Strauss’s Metamorphosen.” YellowBarn. Accessed January 31,2020. https://www.yellowbarn.org/blog/richard-strauss%E2%80%99smetamorphosen.

Gilliam, Bryan, and Charles Youmans. “Strauss, Richard.” Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online. Accessed December 20, 2019. Edited by Deane L. Root. http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.

Kusche, Ludwig, and Kurt Wilhelm. "Richard Strauss's ‘Metamorphosen’." Tempo no. 19 (1951): 19–22. 

Lodes, Birgit. “Richard Strauss' Skizzen zu den ‘Metamorphosen’ und ihre Beziehung zu ‘Trauer um München’.” Die Musikforschung 47, no. 3 (July–September 1994): 234– 252.

Lütteken, Laurenz. Eine 3000 Jährige Kulturentwicklung abgeschlossen: Biographie und Geschichte in den Metamorphosen von Richard Strauss. Wintertur: Amadeus, 2004.

Schmid, Mark-Daniel, ed. The Richard Strauss Companion. Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003. 

Youmans, Charles, ed. The Cambridge Companion to Richard Strauss. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.

Copyright © 2020 Michalis Boliakis