In six parts, August Zirner speaks on HYPERMADE about language, responsibility, and the subtle difference between expression and effect.
HYPERMADE: You once said of your grandfather that there is no absolute clarity—no black and white—and that it is precisely this in-between that is so difficult. How does one deal, as a person and as an artist, with a legacy that resists clear moral judgement? Is enduring this ambiguity itself a form of responsibility?
AUGUST ZIRNER: Enduring ambiguity definitely requires a concept of responsibility. I find the idea of moral clarity in historical judgment problematic. First of all, morality as a term isn’t sufficient; what matters more is ethics—and that’s a question of conscience. But how can that be judged? Still, from the perspective of truly responsible, conscientious action, one can consider people in that light.
That’s where it gets more complicated with my grandfather. Doing him justice—or being just toward him. To be fair, one might say that the way he was strictly judged after World War II was something Richard Strauss somehow escaped. You could call that unfair.
Richard Strauss certainly behaved more questionably under National Socialism than Franz Schmidt. And then comes postwar historiography, which complicates things further. Of course, one might say: well, Richard Strauss was simply the better composer. But what does that even mean? By the way, I don’t think a person or artist should detach himself from his origins.
HYPERMADE: You once described the trumpet solo in your grandfather Franz Schmidt’s 4th Symphony as a key musical experience—a moment of reconciliation. What exactly resonates in you when you hear that solo?
AUGUST ZIRNER: Strangely enough, I was able to play the trumpet solo by heart on the flute after hearing it only twice. Perhaps Franz Schmidt extended a grandfatherly hand toward me. He composed the 4th Symphony as a requiem for his daughter Emma. I already found that interesting. His daughter died giving birth to her first child.
The thirty notes of the trumpet solo, which echo throughout the symphony, carry a deep sadness for me. The sequence is very unusual for him. In my view, sadness isn’t an emotion typically present in Schmidt’s work—his motifs are often more lush or sentimental. But I find sadness very important. Maybe that’s because I’ve internalized the blues scale so deeply.
HYPERMADE: Are there aspects of his work or his personality that resonate with you more today than they did in the past—perhaps even feel familiar?
AUGUST ZIRNER: No. But then again, I’m not a composer.
HYPERMADE: Can you imagine engaging artistically with his work—through a stage production, a reading, or an adaptation? And if so: what would need to happen for that impulse to arise?
AUGUST ZIRNER: I find Jonathan Berman’s recordings of the four symphonies very compelling. Unlike many other conductors, he approaches them very emotionally. I’d love to try developing something like a Franz Schmidt melodrama with him—letters, even those with problematic content, paired with his music.
HYPERMADE: You once said that in Schmidt’s music one can hear the unrest of the interwar period—a time suspended between upheaval and stagnation. Do you see any parallels to the present day—especially with regard to your American homeland? Do you feel that art today must again respond to a similar tension—a kind of social coldness that needs to be challenged artistically?
AUGUST ZIRNER: Sadly, unfortunately yes.
Resonance
Perhaps it is this quiet tension between tones and themes that August Zirner refers to when he speaks of music, history, and responsibility—a listening for what cannot be clearly defined.
