Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy

Chapter 9 Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy Spring 1942, the Rositabar on Bayerischer Platz in Berlin. Alongside jazz musician Tullio Mobiglia, who styled himself the most beautiful saxophonist in the world, Jewish guitarist Heinz Jakob Schumann, just eighteen years old, made his debut. The Italian Mobiglia, who had been an apprentice to Coleman Hawkins, and his sextet offered the best swing to be heard in the ‘Third Reich’. In the middle of the war, the Berlin nightclub seemed to be a refuge for everyone who wanted to flee the cruel reality of renunciation, loss and persecution. A horde of female admirers had their sights set on the beautiful Tullio, but Schumann also seems to have enjoyed himself amply. That spring of 1942, he was given a nickname by a French friend, who called him Chérie Coco because she couldn’t pronounce Heinz; henceforth he was to make his career under the name Coco Schumann.1 One of the regulars at the Rositabar was Heinrich Kupffer, born like Schumann in 1924. Before Kupffer was conscripted into the Wehrmacht in 1942, he had paid a visit to the jazz club one last time with his ‘half-Jewish’ girlfriend from Neukölln and may well have enjoyed Mobiglia’s and Schumann’s swing standards. He had met this woman just a few days earlier. She had already lost her father, though we do not learn how. Yet she had been ‘in no way gloomy or withdrawn’, recalled Kupffer, but fully ‘involved in the colossal and crazy normality of this city’.2 Of course, the Rositabar was not in the public eye to the same extent as the Berlin Philharmonic, for example. Coco Schumann was nowhere near as wellknown as the likes of Friedrich Hollaender, who had long since left Germany. Furthermore, in the spring of 1942, only a short time after the United States had entered the war, the Nazi regime had other things to do than raid a jazz club in Schöneberg in order to send yet another Jew off to a prison camp; Schumann was admitted to Theresienstadt a year later. Ultimately, this vignette in the Rositabar reflects individual experiences that contrast with the displacement and murder of many Jewish musicians and many more Jewish listeners. And yet Kupffer’s ‘crazy normality’ should be taken seriously as an attempt to describe everyday life in the Nazi state, not least with a view to musical 1 See Schumann, C., The Ghetto Swinger: A Berlin Jazz-Legend Remembers. Translated by John Howard. Los Angeles 2016, 32f; Kater, Spiel, 262. 2 See Kupffer, H., Swingtime. Chronik einer Jugend in Deutschland 1937–1951, Berlin 1987, 57. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 © Martin Rempe, 2023 | DOI:10.1163/9789004542723_011 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 268 Chapter 9 life. With a focus on domestic music in the ‘Third Reich’, Celia Applegate has shown convincingly that we cannot necessarily better understand the mechanisms of Nazi murder by seeking to examine them in contexts in which they did not come into play. To put it more generally: the Nazi state does not become more comprehensible because we are determined to demonstrate its spread to every part of society.3 This insight applies even more to the study of musicians’ lives. As USAmerican musicologist Pamela Potter has recently shown, the image of a musical life coming apart at the seams, a more or less impotent artistic fraternity and total organizational and aesthetic control by the Nazi state continues to mould the public imagination on both sides of the Atlantic and still informs a fair number of scholarly accounts. Be it the Gleichschaltung or forcible coordination of the music world, the political exploitation of the Berlin Philharmonic, the affairs centred on Strauss, Hindemith and Furtwängler, the Degenerate Music exhibition or the ban on jazz on the radio – the notion of art in the regime’s totalitarian grip, as spearheaded by Hitler and Goebbels, is still readily evoked.4 In the present chapter, I merely touch on these topics or disregard them completely, because for a large number of the musicians who continued to pursue their profession after 1933 they played no or only a subordinate role. Nor does this chapter foreground the extent of organizational and aesthetic control or individual musical personalities’ degree of involvement in the Nazi regime.5 Instead I cast light on ‘how competent […] the Third Reich [was] in dealing with the Depression’,6 while seeking to trace the effects of its music policy on musicians’ lives. Overall, I argue, as a professional group civilian musicians were neglected under Nazism. It is true that the regime gradually managed to breathe new life into a musical world that was languishing in the wake of the economic crisis. 3 See Applegate, C., ‘The Past and Present of “Hausmusik” in the Third Reich’, in M. H. Kater and A. Riethmüller (eds.), Music and Nazism: Art under Tyranny, 1933–1945, Laaber 2003, 136–149, here 147 f.; similar points are made by Gregor, N., ‘Die Geschichte des Nationalsozialismus und der Cultural-Historical Turn’, VfZ no. 65 2017, 233–245, esp. 238. 4 See Potter, P., The Art of Suppression: Confronting the Nazi Past in Histories of the Visual and Performing Arts, Oakland 2016, 1–47. 5 The spotlight was on these issues for decades, the first key text being the annotated sourcebook by Joseph Wulf. See Wulf, J., Musik im Dritten Reich. Eine Dokumentation, Gütersloh 1963; the most important study on leading figures in classical music life is Kater, Muse. 6 Conceptual framework here stimulated by Patel, K. K., Soldiers of Labor: Labor Service in Nazi Germany and New Deal America, 1933–1945. Translated by Thomas Dunlap. Cambridge 2005, 7. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 269 However, the relevant measures and reforms were in some cases implemented after a considerable delay. Socio-economic recovery thus came relatively late compared to other occupational fields. In addition, the Nazis stimulated few novel developments at the level of content, tending to build on the sociopolitical developments of the republic era, though without entirely reaching the same level. Conversely, Jewish musicians were consistently, albeit gradually, excluded, but this had little effect on the musical labour market. The discrepancy between Nazi social and cultural policies on the one hand and their implementation on the other could hardly have been greater. Together with the renaissance of military music, this rapidly diminished the appeal of the civilian music profession.7 Finally, aspiration and reality also diverged when it came to the evocation of professional unity and the formation of a musical Volksgemeinschaft or ‘National Community’. The diverse range of ideas associated with this concept, ranging from promises of social equality through visions of social and cultural hierarchies to blood-and-soil constructs, moulded the inner workings of the Reich Chamber of Music (Reichsmusikkammer or RMK) as well as its search for the fitting soundtrack to Nazi ideology.8 This search failed due to a conflictual polyphony of both opinions and sounds. The project of a Nazi ‘National Community’ soon reached its limits within musical life.9 Cutback Fever: the World Economic Crisis The global economic crisis marked a profound turning point in the history of musicians in Germany. The stock market crash of October 1929 and the 7 But cf. Levi, E., Music in the Third Reich, Basingstoke 1994, 195–197; Potter, Suppression, 12 and 40 f.; Okrassa, Peter Raabe, 323; Steinweis, Art, 102, is undecided. 8 See Wildt, M., ‘“Volksgemeinschaft” – eine Zwischenbilanz’, in D. von Reeken and M. Thießen (eds.), ‘Volksgemeinschaft’ als soziale Praxis. Neue Forschungen zur NS-Gesellschaft vor Ort, Paderborn et al. 2013, 355–369, here 362. 9 On the Volksgemeinschaft concept, including a summary of the historiographical debate, see Steber, M. and B. Gotto, ‘Volksgemeinschaft: Writing the Social History of the Nazi Regime’, in Steber, M. and B. Gotto (eds.), Visions of Community in Nazi Germany, Oxford 2014, 1–25; Kershaw, I., ‘“Volksgemeinschaft”. Potenzial und Grenzen eines neuen Forschungskonzepts’, VfZ no. 59, 2011, 1–17 and Herbert, U., ‘Echoes of the Volksgemeinschaft’, in M. Steber and B. Gotto (ed.), Visions of Community in Nazi Germany, Oxford 2014, 60–69, rightly warn against overestimating the potential insights arising from this vague concept. At the same time, following Wildt, it is reasonable to conclude that projects of communitization must be investigated even when they fail, as this one did in the context of musical life. See Wildt, M., ‘“Volksgemeinschaft”. Eine Antwort auf Ian Kershaw’, ZF/SCH no. 8, 2011, 102–109. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 270 Chapter 9 subsequent global depression ended the phase of relative stabilization in the Weimar Republic. At the end of March 1930, the erosion of the political system became manifest in the first presidential cabinet under Heinrich Brüning. Concurrently, political radicalization set in, which became unmistakeably clear in the rise of the Nazi Party to second strongest party at the Reichstag elections in September the same year. National income fell by 25 percent between 1929 and 1932. In view of the rapid rise in unemployment, from 1.9 million in the late 1920s to over 6 million in January 1933, and the associated decline in the standard of living in virtually every section of the population, conflicts over wealth distribution became more acute. Obviously, this economic crisis also had a detrimental effect on musical life and musicians’ everyday working lives.10 There was a lot at stake for orchestral musicians in particular. The orchestral landscape, which had been expanded by the states and municipalities despite depleted coffers, quickly shrank again after 1929. The spectres haunting the scene were ‘theatre closure’ and ‘orchestra disbandment’, and there was soon talk of ‘cutback fever’ as well.11 As early as the spring of 1930, the city of Mainz dismissed its entire orchestra. In the course of the same year, the same fate befell the orchestras in Flensburg, Neiße, Trier, Koblenz, Königsberg, Osnabrück, Plauen, Weißenfels and Würzburg. In Düsseldorf, 44 musicians were dismissed, in Darmstadt 25, and many other orchestras were also downsized.12 At this early stage, a total of more than 1,000 of the approximately 6,000 orchestral employees had already been dismissed.13 In the wake of the Emergency Decree Law (Notverordnungsrecht) of 1931–32, the national theatres in Kassel and Wiesbaden along with many other municipal orchestras were also targeted by the fiscal authorities. Salary deductions of up to 35 percent were no rarity, and special allowances were also axed here and there. These cuts hit civil servant musicians particularly hard.14 10 11 12 13 14 On the course of the crisis in Germany, including figures, see Hesse, J. et al., Die große Depression. Die Weltwirtschaftskrise 1929–1939, Frankfurt 2014, 54–59. ‘Aufbau im Abbau’, DMZ no. 17, 26 April 1930, 345. See ‘Notiz’, Mitteilungsblatt des RDO no. 8, 15 April 1930, xxix; ‘Die Theaterkrise im Reiche’, DMZ no. 5, 1 February 1930, 90 f.; ‘Vorsicht bei Angeboten nach …’, ibid. no. 17, 26 April 1930, 344; ‘Was tut der Verband? Ein Querschnitt durch das Jahr 1930’, ibid. no. 52, 27 December 1930, 981 f. See ‘Entschließung zur Notlage im Musikerberuf’, DMZ no. 14, 5 April 1930, 283. See ‘Theaterschließung und Orchesterauflösung’, Mitteilungsblatt des RDO no. 2, 15 January 1932, vii; RDO-Vorstand, ‘Der Düsseldorfer Streitfall’, ibid. no. 14, 15 July 1930, liii; ‘Die Gruppe Ia seit 1929’, DMZ no. 37, 10 September 1932, 440; Alfred Erdmann, ‘Sind die Notverordnungsmaßnahmen für die Mitglieder der deutschen Kulturorchester in der heutigen Zeit noch aufrecht zu erhalten?’, Die Musik-Woche no. 40, 5 October 1935, 4 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 271 A similarly bleak picture prevailed at privately run theatres. Most did not survive the crisis.15 Although cinemas managed to hold up better overall, the switch to sound film virtually wiped out an entire field of activity. ‘Between 1928 and 1930, millions of musicians in the world became unemployed. This was so dreadful that it cannot be put into words’, recalled cinema bandmaster Werner Schmidt-Boelcke, with some exaggeration: he, at least, was able to continue his career in talkies.16 During the Depression era, competition flared up again between civil servants, dilettantes and the armed forces. Once again, reference was soon being made to musicians’ plight, and reports of starving musicians made the rounds. Unemployment in the profession rose steadily until the end of 1932 and, according to the Musicians’ Union, lay at around 23,000 musicians, over 40 percent of whom received no support through unemployment insurance or welfare benefits. Unofficially, it was in fact assumed that 30,000 musicians were unemployed shortly before the Nazi ‘seizure of power’ (Machtergreifung).17 While plans to disband orchestras were rapidly drawn up and implemented, resistance was also quick to emerge. In an open letter to Reich Minister of the Interior Joseph Wirth, the Association of German Conductors and Choirmasters, whose chairman at the time was Wilhelm Furtwängler, urged prudence. Its managing director Rudolf Cahn-Speyer self-confidently suggested that no cuts should be made in municipal orchestras; they were, he asserted, extremely popular and in any case got by with modest resources. Savings should instead be made by reducing funding for more expensive and less used cultural services such as museums. Cahn-Speyer also criticized as a ‘huge mistake’ the idea at large in many municipal administrations that savings could be made by cutting jobs without detriment to artistic substance: downsizing would not only significantly limit the repertoire, but also wipe out years of orchestral work that, he claimed, was vital to creating ensembles of superior 15 16 17 See Schöndienst, Geschichte des Theaters 1846–1935, 288 f. and 304; Becker, Moderne, 49 f. and 328 f. Quoted in Bockstiegel, Schmidt-Boelcke, 52; see ‘Was tut der Verband? Ein Querschnitt durch das Jahr 1930’, DMZ no. 52, 27 December 1930, 981 f. See Strelow, ‘Musikerelend’, DMZ no. 29, 19 July 1930, 575 f.; Dr. Löblich, ‘Die Pflicht der Arbeitsämter, für die hungernden Berufsmusiker Arbeit zu schaffen’, ibid. no. 48, 29 November 1930, 925; ‘Das Ergebnis unserer Arbeitslosenstatistik’, ibid. no. 47, 19 November 1932, 563 f. In June 1933, according to the occupational census, 29,077 musicians were unemployed; see table A in the appendix. Hence, the musicians’ labour market deviated from general trends in unemployment, which had already peaked in January 1932. See Benz, W., A Concise History of the Third Reich. Translated by Thomas Dunlap. Berkeley 2006, 97 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 272 Chapter 9 artistic quality. Last but not least, he averred, in times of material sacrifice it was all the more important to provide a starving society at least with intellectual nourishment and spiritual consolation.18 A rare show of unanimity saw the German Musicians’ Union endorse this letter of protest. Even more than before, foreign musicians now came under fire, with petitions to the Ministry of Labour opposing their entry to the country, employment and even their efforts to advertise themselves, though again with little success.19 In a crisis-struck context, the prevailing discourse sometimes took on more emotional, even violent overtones. ‘Beat Him to Death, He’s a Musician!’ screeched the front page of the Deutsche Musiker-Zeitung of February 1930. In view of the obsessive cost-cutting, the associated article seriously discussed whether society would allow musicians the right to exist. Some of the blame, however, was placed on musicians themselves, with many described as lacking the will and commitment to engage in the struggle for economic survival.20 The membership of the Musicians’ Union did in fact shrink from around 40,000 in 1928 to little more than 15,000 three years later.21 The local authorities and states certainly sought to mitigate the worst effects of the economic crisis. An official certificate of employment was introduced in many cities, thus municipalizing a function previously carried out by the Musicians’ Union.22 The Convention of Municipal Authorities (Städtetag) also set up a committee that provided advisory services for theatre operators to help them avoid cuts and closures.23 Finally, the most visible expression of these efforts were so-called orchestras of the unemployed, which were established by labour offices from Frankfurt to Dresden and from Düsseldorf to Halle. The Munich authorities were particularly committed, creating a string orchestra, a wind orchestra and a piano ensemble, which employed a total of up to 75 musicians and held ten concerts in November 1930 alone. Through 18 19 20 21 22 23 Rudolf Cahn-Speyer, ‘Gegen den Orchester-Abbau’, Das Orchester no. 12, 15 June 1930, 144 f. See ‘Gegen den Abbau der Orchester’, DMZ no. 23, 7 June 1930, 468; ‘Gegen entbehrliche Ausländer und musikalische Schwarzarbeit!’, DMZ no. 22, 28 May 1932, 253 f.; ‘Der Reichsarbeitsminister zur Ausländerfrage’, ibid. no. 25, 18 June 1932, 289 f. ‘Schlagt ihn tot, er ist ein Musikus!’, DMZ no. 6, 8 February 1930, 102 f. Figures in Steinweis, Art, 10. See Richard Treitel, ‘Der öffentliche Arbeitsnachweis für Musiker’, DMZ no. 15, 12 April 1930, 304 f. But criticisms were soon being voiced about the labour offices’ meagre placement rate. See Dr. Löblich, ‘Die Pflicht der Arbeitsämter, für die hungernden Berufsmusiker Arbeit zu schaffen’, ibid. no. 48, 29 November 1930, 925. See ‘Ein Rundschreiben des Deutschen Städtetages’, DMZ no. 49, 6 December 1930, 940. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 273 such measures, the municipalities explicitly attempted to counter the muchmaligned competition from the armed forces and civil servants.24 Ultimately, however, these efforts were a drop in the ocean. From 1932 onwards, the (political) party bands that emerged from the army of unemployed musicians attracted far more attention than the orchestras run by local authorities. The Musicians’ Union was far from pleased about this further politicization of the profession. The union top brass saw this development, probably with good reason, as an ‘abuse of the unemployment crisis, of the worst kind imaginable’.25 While this criticism was directed equally at the Communist Party and the Nazi Party, it was concerns about ‘Nazi bands’ (as they were also called) that clearly predominated.26 Among the first of its kind was the National Socialist Reich Symphony Orchestra (Nationalsozialistisches Reichssinfonieorchester) under Munich-based conductor Franz Adam, which made its first appearance at the Circus Krone in January 1932, where it delighted 3,000 listeners with renditions of Bruckner, Wagner and Weber. Adam had joined the party in late 1930, his work with the Association Orchestra of the South German Musicians’ Syndicate (Verbandsorchester der Interessengemeinschaft süddeutscher Musiker) having brought him little success.27 The formation of the party orchestra, which recruited most of its members from the Association Orchestra, was motivated by both ideology and labour market policy. Adam wanted ‘to be able to bring German music to the entire German people, lead the NSDAP’s struggle against the internationalization and Bolshevization of music by setting a practical example, [and] ward off the looming mechanization of music’.28 24 25 26 27 28 See Otto Neuburger, ‘Wodurch können die Arbeitsämter zur Linderung der Arbeitsnot der Musiker beitragen?’, DMZ no. 49, 6 December 1930, 944 f. On Halle, see Paul Klanert, ‘Aus dem Wirkungsbereich der Arbeitslosenorchester’, ibid. no. 46, 12 November 1932, 552. For more details on Munich, see Neumann, S., Musikleben in München 1925–1945, Au in der Hallertau 2009, 70–72. ‘Politische Hetze gegen den Demuv’, DMZ no. 46, 12 November 1932, 545. Verbandsvorstand, ‘Nazikapellen’, DMZ no. 38, 17 September 1932, 455. Franz Adam, ‘Lebenslauf des Unterzeichneten, 8.7.1948’, in BSB Ana 559 NL Adam, C. I.16; Franz Adam, ‘Entstehen und Wirken des Nationalsozialistischen Symphonieorchesters, 25.7.1945’, in ibid., A.3. On the syndicate, see also Neumann, Musikleben, 39; another example was the orchestra of the Militant League for German Culture (Kampfbund für deutsche Kultur) under Gustav Havemann. See Levi, Music, 18 f. ‘Zweck und Ziele des Nationalsozialistischen Reichs-Symphonie-Orchesters’, undated (February 1932), in BSB Ana 559 NL Adam, D. I.6. In order to realize his plans, Adam had already contacted Hitler directly in November 1930. See ‘Kanzlei Adolf Hitler an Adam, 11.11.1930’, in ibid., C. I.12. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 274 Chapter 9 But even the party bands, whose employment conditions were initially quite obscure, scarcely improved the situation.29 Taking the occupational census of June 1933 as our basis clarifies the extent of the disaster unleashed on the music profession by the economic crisis. Of a total of almost 120,000 registered musicians (excluding singers), almost one in three stated that they worked in music only as a side-line. At the same time, unemployment among the more than 96,000 salaried musicians, full-time and part-time combined, was 46 percent. It was thus more than 15 percent higher than the Reich average for white-collar and blue-collar workers. The musical labour market had shrunk to such an extent, with moonlighting musicians omnipresent on all stages from beer hall to concert hall, that music-making as a professional activity per se was under serious threat.30 The Nazi state was thus faced with a mammoth cultural policy challenge, one caused not so much by the Weimar Republic as by the economic crisis.31 The dire situation on the labour market was least of all the fault of those most violently attacked under the new regime: Jews and foreigners. The proportion of full-time musicians of Jewish faith, according to the occupational census, was not even 2 percent, those of foreign origin less than 4 percent, while three quarters of the latter were native German speakers.32 It is from this point of departure that Nazi music policy must now be discussed. But the regime’s ability to resolve the crisis was limited: it took years to bring about major improvements within the music profession, and in some respects the solutions involved fell far short of what had been achieved under the republic. Even the supposedly long-awaited Reich Chamber of Music could do nothing to change this. 29 30 31 32 Rumour had it that musicians were housed and fed in mass quarters. It was claimed that they either received no wages at all, were made responsible for ticket sales or were paid far below the standard wage. See Verbandsvorstand, ‘Nazikapellen’, DMZ no. 38, 17 September 1932, 455. Friedrich Zander, ‘Die Berufe der Musikausübenden in der deutschen Reichsstatistik’, Die Musik-Woche no. 25, 19 June 1937, 1–4. The tendency to interpret Weimar as a permanent ‘crisis state’ is explicit or implicit in a number of accounts of Nazi musical life. For a recent example, see Potter, Suppression, 10 f. See Friedrich Zander, ‘Die Berufe der Musikausübenden in der deutschen Reichsstatistik’, Die Musik-Woche no. 25, 19 June 1937, 1–4. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 275 The Reich Chamber of Music: Right-Wing Staff … ‘The Reich Chamber of Music, for decades the great dream of the entire German musical fraternity, was established on 15 November 1933, which means that we have taken the most important step along the path to reconstructing German musical life in its entirety’, stated Richard Strauss at the first conference of this newly created institution in the winter of 1934.33 Here, the newly elected president of the chamber struck the right tone, as its founding was associated with tremendous hopes of radical reforms that were supposed to put new heart into the profession as a whole and lead it into a brighter future. Yet Strauss himself was soon one of those whose expectations of the Reich Chamber of Music were disappointed or only partially fulfilled. The composer resigned from his post after a little more than a year and a half for health reasons, to quote the official explanation. In fact, he encountered clear headwinds when he sought to virtually bypass Nazi party functionaries in order to pursue a one-sided music policy to the benefit of composers of serious music. While the chamber’s managing director Heinz Ihlert had begun to stir up opposition to his superior’s leadership style, Strauss’s forced resignation was due to his loyalty to his Jewish librettist Stefan Zweig. This incident alone demonstrates that in the wake of the ‘seizure of power’ there were as many different ideas about what the Chamber of Musicians should and shouldn’t do as in the debates of the previous thirty years.34 This was particularly evident in the case of the Musicians’ Union. If it had been up to the union, the RMK would never have come into being. The union’s resistance – as cultivated under the republic – to the neo-corporatist notion of a chamber even outlasted its evidently forcible Gleichschaltung. In the wake of the union’s declaration of loyalty to the new regime on 15 April 1933, a late occurrence in comparison to other organizations in the musical world and one accompanied by the replacement of the executive committee, the new leaders initially refused to pledge allegiance to the Reich Cartel of German musicians (Reichskartell der deutschen Musikerschaft), which had been initiated by Berlin-based violin professor Gustav Havemann and functioned as a kind of forerunner of the Reich Chamber of Music.35 33 34 35 ‘Eröffnung der ersten Arbeitstagung der Reichsmusikkammer’, Amtliche Mitteilungen der RMK no. 5, 14 February 1934, 15. On Strauss’s conduct as Chamber president, see Walter, Strauss, 296–303; Steinweis, Art, 51–53. Against this background, Kater’s claim that Strauss wished to resign anyway seems questionable. See Kater, Muse, 397. See ‘Deutscher Musiker-Verband an RMVP, 28.4.1933’, in BArch R55/1138, fol. 124; on the founding of the Reich Cartel, see Steinweis, Art, 35 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 276 Chapter 9 Havemann, active in the party and in the Militant League for German Culture (Kampfbund für deutsche Kultur) since May 1932, was the driving force behind the crushing of the old Musicians’ Union. As early as mid-March 1933, he had asked the Ministry of the Interior to arrange for its building on Bernburger Straße to be occupied and placed under the provisional administration of Nazi party comrades.36 However, this Gleichschaltung did not go as Havemann had envisaged it. The new leadership of the Musicians’ Union emerged from the National Socialist Factory Cell Organization (Nationalsozialistische Betriebszellenorganisation), a union-like apparatus of the Nazi Party that was absorbed by the German Labour Front (Deutsche Arbeitsfront) in the course of the general smashing of the unions at the beginning of May.37 Havemann was viewed as nothing more than a ‘Marxist parasite’ who had become a National Socialist ‘all of a sudden’ and now thought he could tell everyone what to do. The new executive committee even brought proceedings against him before the Investigative and Arbitration Committee (Untersuchungs- und Schlichtungsausschuss).38 The lines of conflict that had solidified over the years between unionized and business-friendly musicians thus persisted as the new Nazi cultural apparatus was being constructed, though conservatives now clearly gained the upper hand. The Imperial Association of German Orchestras and Orchestra Musicians was one of the first organizations to give their allegiance to Havemann, which paid off to a degree. Leo Bechler, president of what had still been a marginal body under the Weimar Republic, was immediately appointed to the executive committee of the Reich Cartel. Robert Hernried, editor of the trade journal Musik im Zeitbewusstsein (‘Music in the Spirit of the Age’), which was to be revamped, was also a member of the Imperial Association and remained in charge of the periodical even after it was taken over by the RMK.39 Finally, union member Alfred Erdmann became involved in the Reich Cartel. Long-time horn player in the Wuppertal Municipal Orchestra (Wuppertaler Städtisches Orchester), Erdmann had been a diligent contributor 36 37 38 39 See ‘Havemann an Daluege, 17.3.1933’, in BArch RK Havemann, fol. 1790; ‘Havemann an Metzner, 17.3.1933’, in ibid., fol. 1792. On his career, see Beiträge, 3. See ‘Deutscher Musiker-Verband an RMVP, 28.4.1933’, in BArch R55/1138, fol. 124. ‘Deutscher Musiker-Verband an Göring and Goebbels, 19.5.1933’, in BArch RK Havemann, fol. 1564. On the so-called USchlA hearings, which proved fruitless, see ‘Seidel an Göring, 6.5.1933’, in ibid., fol. 1788. Among other things, Havemann was accused of being philosemitic. See ‘Seidel an Hitler, 26.5.1933’, in ibid., fol. 1482; ‘Notruf an unseren Führer und Volkskanzler’, undated (26 May 1933), in ibid., fol. 1500. On his reputation, see also Kater, Muse, 50 f. For a comprehensive account, see Steinweis, Art, 38 f. That Hernried was Jewish was to emerge only some time later. See Steinweis, Art, 53. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 277 under Hernried in the 1920s, had fought bitter written feuds with the Musicians’ Union and had joined the Nazi Party by the end of 1931. Beginning in November 1933, he headed the Division of Orchestral Musicians (Fachschaft Orchestermusiker) within the Chamber of Musicians for six months.40 Havemann himself was entrusted with running the Reich Musicians Department (Reichsmusikerschaft) within the RMK. The heads of the divisions (Fachschaften) under him – Karl Stietz for Ensemble and Freelance Musicians (Ensemble- und freistehende Musiker), Hermann Abendroth for Musical Educators (Musikerzieher) and Karl Klingler for Bandmasters and Soloists (Kapellmeister und Solisten) – had likewise had nothing to do with the Musicians’ Union before 1933.41 The only union official to play a fairly prominent role in the new regime was Hermann Becker, who had been responsible for orchestral musicians and was therefore Erdmann’s archenemy. He succeeded the latter as head of the Orchestra Division (Orchesterfachschaft) but was just as unable to assert himself in this post.42 Hence, the conflict between Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels and Labour Minister Robert Ley, both of whom had initially claimed responsibility for the artistic professions, also found reflection in the staffing of the RMK. The selection of personnel left no doubt that Goebbels had emerged victorious from this power struggle.43 A large number of performing musicians thus had to reconcile themselves to a new, non-union and far more conservative leadership. Yet the latter fell out with the new regime almost as quickly as they had warmed to it. The construction of the Nazi state would be hampered by figures such as Strauss, his deputy Furtwängler and even Havemann, as Goebbels and his right-hand man in the superordinate Reich Chamber of Culture (Reichskulturkammer), Hans Hinkel, soon realized. All three considered artistic matters more important than ideological prerogatives. Their successors, Peter Raabe as president and also head 40 41 42 43 See O. K., ‘Zum 25-jährigen Dienstjubiläum von Alfred Erdmann’, Die Musik-Woche no. 20, 15 May 1937, 7. On party membership, see Prieberg, F. K., Handbuch deutsche Musiker 1933–1945, Version 1.2–3, CD-ROM 2005, 9424. The factors involved in his departure are unclear. He may have had to leave because he was an avowed defender of orchestral musicians’ civil servant status. Cf. the next section of the present chapter. Karl Stietz was a pianist, Hermann Abendroth a conductor and Karl Klingler a violinist and first violinist of the Klingler Quartet. See for example Hermann Becker, ‘Anstellungs- und Besoldungsfragen der deutschen Kulturorchester’, Musik im Zeitbewußtsein no. 28, 13 July 1935, 3 f.; Hermann Becker, ‘Der Bankrott des RDO’, DMZ no. 18, 27 March 1926, 293 f.; Becker’s successor was Hermann Henrich, previously executive director of the entire Reich Musicians Department. No entry on Becker appears in Prieberg, Handbuch. For details of the conflict, see Steinweis, Art, 38–44. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 278 Chapter 9 of the Reich Musicians and Paul Graener as vice president as well as head of the Composers’ Department (Berufsstand der deutschen Komponisten), were certainly no less conservative, but were politically more opportunistic and far more pliant with regard to artistic issues.44 It is difficult to say to what extent the right-wing shift in this music organization that went hand in hand with the ‘seizure of power’ met with approval, shoulder-shrugging or disapproval among musicians. Alan E. Steinweis has estimated that around 20 percent of musicians active under Nazism were members of the Nazi Party; 6 percent had joined before 1933, around 10 percent did so that year, while the remaining 4 percent signed up under the Nazi regime. Musicians were thus roughly on par with teachers (23 percent) and clearly below the party membership rates in other professional fields such as medicine (45 percent) and law (35 percent).45 Considering that the RMK only really began its work in 1934, the 16 percent who had high expectations of Nazi cultural policy represented a far larger group than the 4 percent whose views were perhaps influenced by their experience of that policy. In short, the leap of faith was great, but the results achieved were meagre. … and Left-Wing Reforms The Nazis did not have their own music policy ready for implementation, at least not when it came to professional musicians. Instead, they took up key aspects of the agenda pursued by the now defunct Musicians’ Union. Their music policy can therefore be described as ‘left-wing’ insofar as it perpetuated the traditional concerns of the Musicians’ Union. In terms of its realization, however, this policy often fell short of the union’s demands and achievements under the republic.46 44 45 46 On the various tensions, see Kater, Muse; Steinweis, Art. On the successors, see Okrassa, Peter Raabe; Domann, A., ‘Paul Graener als nationalsozialistischer Kulturpolitiker’, in A. Riethmüller and M. Custodis (eds.), Die Reichsmusikkammer. Kunst im Bann der NaziDiktatur, Cologne 2015, 69–85. See Steinweis, Art, 29 f.; Kater, Muse, 28. Percentage share of the other occupations mentioned here in Jarausch, K. H. and G. Arminger, ‘The German Teaching Profession and Nazi Party Membership: A Demographic Logit Model’, The Journal of Interdisciplinary History no. 20, 1989, 197–225, here 201 f. and 223 f. Aly has presented this argument more succinctly than anyone else. See Aly, G., Hitler’s Beneficiaries: Plunder, Racial War, and the Nazi Welfare State. Translated by Jefferson Chase. New York 2007, 20–27. In contrast to Aly, whose main focus is in any case on wartime, here I place far more emphasis on the discrepancy between aspiration and reality. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 279 Even the organizational features of the Reich Musicians showed continuity with the earlier Musicians’ Union. Havemann and his department moved into the seized union building in Berlin Mitte. Furthermore, the structure of the Reich Musicians was based on that of the Musicians’ Union, with divisions of orchestral musicians, ensemble musicians, music educators and church musicians. Only the Division of Bandmasters and Soloists (Fachschaft der Kapellmeister und Solisten) was new, while the old Group III of Freelancers (Gruppe III der Freistehenden), an institutional home for many unemployed musicians towards the end of the republic, had been fused with the ensemble musicians.47 This continuity was particularly evident in the layout of the periodical Musik im Zeitbewußtsein, which clearly took its lead from the defunct Deutsche Musiker-Zeitung from early 1935 onwards. Despite the dominance of conservative forces in the Reich Chamber of Music, the first reforms were mainly devoted to the field of popular music, where the competition on the labour market was toughest.48 The exams initially held for admittance to the RMK were primarily aimed at identifying dilettantes and denying them the so-called brown card, the compulsory token of membership for professional musicians in the chamber. According to reports, these exams proved quite effective, though there were some comical incidents, for example when one candidate identified the Bayreuth Festival as a composition by Richard Wagner or another stated in a questionnaire: ‘I just want to know what my job has to do with Beethoven.’49 Generally speaking, the elimination of competitive distortions (Wettbewerbsverzerrung) was the order of the day: laypeople were no longer allowed to perform in public or for a fee;50 those making music as a side-line were not required to join the chamber, but had to acquire a day pass if they wished to perform; from now on, bands had to obtain permission to work at health 47 48 49 50 For further criticisms of Aly’s study, see Wildt, M., ‘Alys Volksstaat. Hybris und Simplizität in der Wissenschaft’, Sozial Geschichte no. 20 2005, 91–97. On the structure of the RMK, see Ihlert, H., Die Reichsmusikkammer, Berlin 1935, 28 f. An exception was the extension, implemented at Strauss’s instigation, of the copyright term of compositions from 30 to 50 years after the death of the author. See Steinweis, Art, 51. Karl Stietz, ‘Berufsbereinigung. Prüfungen, Ergebnisse, Folgerungen’, Musik im Zeitbewußtsein no. 16/17, 20 April 1935, 10–12; ‘Prüfungsausschüsse bei den Landesmusikerschaften’, Amtliche Mitteilungen der RMK no. 13, 18 April 1934, 44. However, festivals, celebrations and marches were exempt from this, which is why this provision had little effect in practice. See ‘Vereinbarung zwischen der Reichsmusikkammer und der Reichsleitung des Arbeitsdienstes’, Amtliche Mitteilungen der RMK no. 8, 7 March 1934, 25. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 280 Chapter 9 resorts, and this was to be denied to those engaged elsewhere throughout the year; the private founding of orchestras was banned; radio orchestras were no longer allowed to give concerts outside of broadcasting stations except in the context of promotional events; and finally, the admission of ‘non-Aryans’ to the Chamber was tied to a special examination, since they were, supposedly, fundamentally incapable of functioning as ‘bearers of German cultural riches’. The utter determination to rapidly achieve the ‘pacification of economic relations in musical life’, as the relevant measures were sometimes officially called, was clearly in evidence.51 Anyone who believed that this type of state regulation could solve the structural problems on the labour market in short order, problems that had existed in certain variations for about fifty years, were soon disabused of this notion. Despite the Nazi state’s mania for control, the measures against laypeople and those making music as a side-line suffered from a lack of effective implementation.52 Goebbels soon realized that regulation and professionalization of the arts should not be taken too far, partly in order to avoid alienating fans of amateur music, who outnumbered professional musicians many times over. In November 1935, he did away with the entrance exams, and two years later the regulations restricting amateur music were also relaxed.53 By withdrawing the entrance exams, Goebbels also returned, albeit probably unconsciously, to the policy of the earlier Musicians’ Union, which, unlike other professional associations, had always refused to link membership to artistic ability. The lines of continuity between Nazi policy and the agenda of the Musicians’ Union were even more evident in the adoption of new employment regulations (Tarifordnungen) in the entertainment sector than in labour market regulation. These were enacted in 1935–36 and were tailored to individual states, though they were largely identical. They were applied to cafes, cabarets, bars, restaurants and wine taverns, but neither to variety shows nor to spa and symphony orchestras. In terms of content, these new regulations ushered in 51 52 53 See ‘Zweite Anordnung zur Befriedung der wirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse im Musikleben’, Amtliche Mitteilungen der RMK no. 15, 2 May 1934, 49; ‘Richtlinien für die Aufnahme von Nichtariern in die Fachverbände der RMK’, ibid. no. 14, 25 April 1934, supplement; ‘Anordnung betr. “Kurmusik’”, ibid. no. 5, 5 February 1935, 16; ‘Anordnung des Präsidenten der Reichsmusikkammer’, ibid. no. 21, 20 June 1934, 71; ‘Konzerttätigkeit der festangestellten Rundfunkorchester außerhalb des Rundfunks’, ibid. no. 33, 12 December 1935, 103. For example, in Berlin alone almost 400 violations by moonlighting musicians were recorded in a three-month period, but this was probably no more than the tip of the iceberg. See Kontrollabteilung der Landesmusikerschaft Berlin-Brandenburg, ‘Sonderbericht, 28.9.1934’, in LAB A Rep. 243–01/314, fol. 2. For details, see Steinweis, Art, 89 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 281 a number of improvements in working conditions for which the Musicians’ Union had fought vehemently in the 1920s; in some cases, depending on place and time, they had already been implemented. These included, for example, the clarification that the owner of a venue was the musicians’ sole employer. In addition, the day off during the week became legally binding on the condition that the musicians worked at least six hours a day. The employment regulations also prescribed a holiday entitlement of six days in the first year of work. Minimum wages were set relatively low, but henceforth restaurant operators had to pay monthly salaries. The union had campaigned on this issue, just as it had on the regulation of maximum working hours, break time and overtime.54 Overall, the working conditions of employed ensemble musicians in the mid-1930s did not differ significantly from those ten years earlier – with the exception of wages. In Hanover, the monthly standard wage in 1928 was 350 marks for seven hours of playing, while the corresponding regulation of February 1936 provided for just 280 marks for eight hours.55 Musik im Zeitbewußtsein praised the new employment regulations as ‘words dictated by the spirit of National Socialism’ which were now ‘to be impregnated with the blood of the National Socialist view of life’.56 Yet there was nothing ideological about these rules and regulations as such: they built seamlessly on the policies of the Musicians’ Union and in some cases even lagged behind them. Much as in the 1920s, employers tried to circumvent the employment regulations under Nazism. Those musicians who knew their new or regained rights, however, found in the legal offices of the Reich Chamber of Music the protection formerly afforded them by the Musicians’ Union.57 The RMK acted as a reliable advocate of their interests – at least insofar as the issues raised pertained purely to labour law and showed no indication of ideological lapses. Lawyer Hermann Voss, who worked as legal advisor to the chamber in Cologne and who would later enjoy a long and successful career as a functionary in West Germany, recalled that he chiefly had to take action against restaurants 54 55 56 57 See ‘Tarifordnungen für Niedersachsen, Rheinland’, Amtliche Mitteilungen der RMK no. 3, 13 February 1936, 15. For a summary of the DEMUV programme, see Musikerkalender, 133–135. See ibid.; ‘Was sagt der Schlichterspruch zu den Forderungen der Kaffeehausmusiker?’, DMZ no. 24, 16 June 1928, 529. Hermann Stuckenbrock, ‘Die praktischen Auswirkungen der Tarifordnung’, Musik im Zeitbewußtsein no. 29, 20 July 1935, 8 f.; Stern, W., Der Berufsmusiker, insbesondere seine Stellung als Kapellenmitglied, Cologne 1939, 23–26. The employment regulations are a good example of the failure to sufficiently question propaganda of this kind; similar remarks are made by Potter, Suppression, 34 f. On the legal protection provided by the union, see Musikerkalender, 137–139. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 282 Chapter 9 that refused musicians their day off during the week.58 Even in the middle of the war, the chamber sought to address the concerns of the ‘little musician’. For example, it helped violinist Alfred Wahnschaffe, who was employed in the on-board orchestra of the Wilhelm Gustloff, get his due in the spring of 1942 after he had been dismissed without notice on the grounds that there was no money for more events. According to the instruction issued by the chamber, this business risk should not be passed on to musicians; the losses suffered in this case had to be recompensed.59 Compared to ensemble musicians, orchestral musicians fared even worse under the new regime. For a long time, their division or Fachschaft lay dormant, much to the chagrin of its members, who expressed their displeasure cautiously but unequivocally. And they had grounds for doing so, because the aforementioned Emergency Decree Law was still in force at many theatres and orchestras. As a result of the associated special regulations, orchestral musicians received a salary up to 35 percent lower than public service employees of comparable status.60 It was not until 1 May 1938 that a new set of rules came into force in the form of the Employment Regulations for Cultural Orchestras (Tarifordnung für Kulturorchester or TOK). Had orchestral musicians taken Hitler’s ‘four-year promise’ of 1 February 1933 literally, their verdict would surely have been damning.61 It almost sounded like an apology when Havemann’s successor as executive director of the Reich Musicians, Hermann Henrich, at last announced that the employment regulations (Tarifordnung) had been finalized and explained their main features in the spring of 1938. He asserted that there was no need to justify the fact that ‘in the National Socialist state a discussion in the parliamentary sense in circles large or small is out of the question’, as he wrote in Die Musik-Woche (‘Music Week’). But, he contended, because so many of those affected had come forward in advance with questions, suggestions and criticism, it had taken a long time to fully take stock of what amounted to a 58 59 60 61 See Prieberg, F. K., Musik im NS-Staat, Frankfurt am Main 1982, 185 f. On Voss’s further career, see chapter 11. See ‘Leiter der Rechtsstelle an Frontbühne Bordorchester M/S “Wilhelm Gustloff”, 11.2.1942’, in LAB A Rep. 243–01/82, fol. 1; ‘Zimmereiner an Wahnschaffe, 16.4.1942’, in ibid., fol. 2. See Alfred Erdmann, ‘Sind die Notverordnungsmaßnahmen für die Mitglieder der deutschen Kulturorchester in der heutigen Zeit noch aufrecht zu erhalten?’, Die MusikWoche no. 40, 5 October 1935, 4 f. See Hermann Becker, ‘Anstellungs- und Besoldungsfragen der deutschen Kulturorchester’, Musik im Zeitbewußtsein no. 28, 13 July 1935, 3. In a radio broadcast, Hitler’s exact words were: ‘Now German Volk, give us four years’ time, and then judge and pass sentence on us!’; quoted in Benz, Third Reich, 97. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 283 complex body of material and to work out a fair and durable solution for all orchestras. As Henrich saw it, for the first time the new arrangements, which combined a unified set of employment regulations with the establishment of a pension scheme for all publicly financed orchestras, created ‘a true profession of German orchestral musician’, extending from the ‘cultural cell’ of the provincial municipal orchestra to the ‘pinnacle of the proud pyramid’, namely leading orchestras in the major metropolises.62 Once again, the new employment regulations recapitulated a principle close to the heart of the old Musicians’ Union by abolishing orchestra musicians’ civil servant status.63 The preservation and expansion of this status, conversely, was a key motive behind the founding of the RDO. Shortly before the promulgation of the new regulations, Alfred Erdmann was still defending this status, arguing that orchestral musicians carried out ‘official functions’ as ‘public bearers of culture’.64 There is much to suggest that the adoption of the new laws was delayed so long precisely because of this issue: President Raabe too was a friend of the orchestral civil servants.65 The Nazi Party, on the other hand, generally had little sympathy for civil servants because, as they saw it, sluggish bureaucrats were merely an obstacle to rapid social mobilization.66 This point of view was, of course, disadvantageous for orchestral musicians. The elimination of civil servant status meant a great loss of prestige for this subgroup. And it clearly made new members of the relevant ensembles worse off because they had to pay social security contributions into the pension fund. In addition, the TOK placed significant restrictions on the payment of so-called performance bonuses (Leistungszulagen), to which orchestral musicians had long since become accustomed.67 62 63 64 65 66 67 Hermann Henrich, ‘Der Sinn der Tarifordnung’, Die Musik-Woche no. 15, 9 April 1938, 245 f. The DEMUV had taken the view that professional interests could be much better represented through collective bargaining laws than within the framework of civil service laws. See ‘Tarifrecht und Beamtenrecht’, DMZ no. 33, 17 August 1929, 705 f. Alfred Erdmann, ‘Was die deutsche Orchestermusikerschaft vom Jahre 1937 erwartet’, Die Musik-Woche no. 4, 23 January 1937, 1 f. Given the outcome, Raabe clearly had little influence on this issue. Unfortunately, no informative documents of any kind are to be found in the Federal Archives. See also Okrassa, Peter Raabe, 323. See Herbst, L., Das nationalsozialistische Deutschland 1933–1945. Die Entfesselung der Gewalt: Rassismus und Krieg, Darmstadt 1997, 246 f. In the post-war period, this policy even led to demands for ‘indemnification’ (Wiedergutmachung) in light of the ‘wrongs done’: ‘Protokoll der Delegierten-Versammlung der DOV, 3.2.1953’, in DOV AA GEN 1 Delegiertenversammlung 1952–54. A protracted dispute broke out between the RMK and the ministerial bureaucracy over performance bonuses. See Richter, ‘Vermerk, 5.10.1940’, in R 55/199, fol. 181. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 284 Chapter 9 A closer look at the new employment regulations themselves, moreover, reveals that the last collective wage agreement negotiated between the Musicians’ Union and the Stage Association in 1928 had served as a template. Be it the rehearsal time of three hours, the regulations on the day off or the rest periods before and after performances – many provisions were adopted largely unchanged.68 Other elements were enhanced to the benefit of musicians, such as continued payment of wages in the event of illness, which was expanded, in some cases quite considerably, depending on seniority, the extension of the guaranteed holiday to three weeks, employment in principle for an indefinite period and the standard notice period, which was lengthened to six months.69 What was genuinely novel about the new employment regulations was that they specified remuneration as part of a tiered salary structure. The cultural orchestras were divided into five classes plus a special class, each with the same salary structure, depending on their artistic ability. However, standardization by no means automatically entailed financial improvements for all orchestral musicians. To a certain extent, in fact, the employment regulations had to ensure the preservation of the status quo for musicians who were already employed, precisely because a considerable portion of their earnings had consisted of performance bonuses.70 Accordingly, in his commentary (echoing the new employment regulations themselves in their preamble), Henrich evoked the ‘National Socialist worldview’ and appealed to the orchestral musician’s artistic ethos, which knew no ‘petty individual interests’ even if ‘he believes he will make a few marks less’.71 The new system was also intended to create an artistic hierarchy within the German orchestral landscape, but this idea was doomed to failure from the start. The orchestras’ salary structure ultimately depended on the salary class to which the local authorities assigned them, before these inprinciple decisions were approved by the special trustee for labour (Sondertreuhänder der Arbeit), Hans Rüdiger, as something of a custodian of the 68 69 70 71 See ‘Der neue Schlichterspruch im Bühnentarifstreit’, DMZ no. 26, 30 June 1928, 561–565. On the role of the old collective wage agreement during this period of transition, see Hermann Henrich, ‘Der Sinn der Tarifordnung’, Die Musik-Woche no. 15, 9 April 1938, 245 f. See ‘Tarifordnung für die deutschen Kulturorchester’, Reichsarbeitsblatt VI, no. 14, 1938, 597–600. Salary increases per se were in the low double digits. See ‘Einkommen der Orchestermitglieder nach der bisherigen und nach der neuen Regelung’, undated (December 1938), in BArch R 55/199, fol. 16. The abolition of bonuses cut musicians’ income, for example, in Augsburg and at the Deutsches Opernhaus in Berlin. See ‘Oberbürgermeister Augsburg an Sondertreuhänder der Arbeit, 5.9.1938’, in ibid., fol. 89; ‘Rode an Goebbels, 21.10.1939’, in ibid., fol. 241–247. Hermann Henrich, ‘Der Sinn der Tarifordnung’, Die Musik-Woche no. 15, 9 April 1938, 245 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 285 overall artistic tableau. What emerged was that many municipalities, notoriously cash-strapped, wanted their orchestras to receive a lower classification than planned; or they went so far as to request that they be exempted entirely from classification. Rüdiger cleverly passed the buck back to the local authorities by leaving it up to them to place ensembles in the lower three classes themselves. Any protests thus had to be negotiated locally.72 Finally, another novel aspect of the new system and probably the most consequential was the legal enshrining of the so-called cultural orchestras (Kulturorchester) based on aesthetic considerations. They were defined as ‘orchestral businesses that regularly provide operatic services or hold concerts of serious music’. Even orchestras that predominantly played operettas no longer came under the purview of the new employment regulations. In case of doubt, the decision was left to the special trustee.73 What was new about this was not so much the term ‘cultural orchestra’, which appeared for the first time in the early days of the Weimar Republic and had become ever more common over the course of the 1920s to denote those orchestras funded by the public purse.74 The distinction between high-cultural and popular music too had been a feature of German labour law in the shape of the phrase ‘higher artistic interest’ since the time of the German Empire. What was truly new about this set of rules was that it defined the ‘higher artistic interest’ and thus not only pursued programme policy through ordinances on working conditions, but also intervened substantially in the (still highly varied) orchestral landscape: requests from medium-sized and smaller communities to be allowed to waive a classification were not only due to financial hardship, but also reflected the fact that their bands had been performing a broader range of music than permitted by the new definition of the cultural orchestra. The municipalities were therefore faced with an unappealing choice. They could risk being perceived as provincial cultural 72 73 74 See ‘Rüdiger an Goebbels, 16.12.1938’, in BArch R 55/199; ‘IB an Goebbels, 21.12.1938’, in ibid.; Steinweis, Art, 81 f. ‘Tarifordnung für die deutschen Kulturorchester’, Reichsarbeitsblatt VI, no. 14, 1938, here 597. The earliest use of the term of which I am aware is in a petition submitted by the former court orchestras of Berlin, Wiesbaden, Kassel and Hanover to the Prussian government in June 1920. See C. Draegert, ‘Den Manen Albert Diedrichs’, DMZ no. 47, 21 November 1925, 1147 f. The term also came into common use in the Musicians’ Union. See ‘LuftKulturorchester?’, DMZ no. 36, 4 September 1926, 847 f.; ‘Aufbau im Abbau’, DMZ no. 17, 26 April 1930, 345. But cf. Felbick, L., ‘Das “hohe Kulturgut deutscher Musik” und das “Entartete” – über die Problematik des Kulturorchester-Begriffs’, Zeitschrift für Kulturmanagement no. 2, 2015, 85–115. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 286 Chapter 9 philistines unwilling to cough up for a ‘cultural orchestra’ or they could subsidize an orchestra that exclusively served the musical tastes of a fairly small social class.75 To a certain extent, then, the Employment Regulations of 1938, which provide the framework for the remuneration of orchestral musicians to this day, created the very object they were intended to regulate: the unique landscape of cultural orchestras for which Germany is still known across the world.76 From the perspective of many musicians, the idea of the cultural orchestra in the Nazi state remained a vision cultivated by aesthetic purists. This was reflected in the publicly subsidized orchestras that continued to follow the audience on holiday every summer and provide musical entertainment as spa bands, which made up no less than half of all ensembles classified as cultural orchestras.77 Remuneration according to the new rules would have driven the health resorts into financial ruin, so all these orchestras were paid according to the cultural classification in winter but still on the basis of the lower spa category in summer. The spa administrations at least continued to pay the social benefits of the cultural orchestras, which were not supposed to apply to spa bands. In return, they were given a free hand in programme policy.78 Hence, the regime’s vision of a musical landscape in which cultural orchestras existed in a pure form remained a pipe dream; only in West Germany did it become a reality. Exclusions: Jews and Opponents of the Regime What clearly set Nazi music policy apart from that of the republican era was its repressive measures against Jewish and other musicians who were viewed by the regime as enemies, such as communists and homosexuals. While no statistics are available for the latter, the proportion of musicians who considered 75 76 77 78 Two years before the new employment regulations were introduced, Die Musik-Woche was singing the praises of the flexible small-town orchestra (reference in this case was to towns of up to 50,000 inhabitants), which was used as symphony orchestra, dance ensemble, spa orchestra and Kirchweihkapelle, that is, a band performing at fairs. See Günther Köhler, ‘Der Orchestermusiker im Kulturleben der Kleinstadt’, Die Musik-Woche no. 7, 15 February 1936, 2 f. See Schulmeistrat, ‘Weltkulturerbe’; Felbick, ‘Kulturgut’. See the account of the lifeworld of the Borkum Spa Orchestra (Kurorchester Borkum), which was formed by members of the Oldenburg State Theatre (Oldenburgisches Landestheater), in Budde, G. and M. Witkowski, Beethoven unterm Hakenkreuz. Das Oldenburgische Staatsorchester während des Nationalsozialismus, Oldenburg 2007, 77–80. See Flügel, ‘Vermerk’, in BArch R 55/199, fol. 61. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 287 themselves members of the Jewish religious community was around 2 percent of the entire profession. Of a total of almost 94,000 professional musicians, including singers, the occupational census of June 1933 recorded 1,915 individuals of Jewish religion; over a third of them were women. Thus, although Jews were twice as likely to be found in the music profession as in the general population, they were present in significantly small numbers than in other artistic occupations such as acting (almost 7 percent) and writing (more than 12 percent).79 Even taking into account the Nuremberg Race Laws (Nürnberger Rassengesetze) of 1935, which greatly intensified repressive Nazi policies targeting Jews while widening the group of persons affected, Jews remained an absolute minority in the profession: to extrapolate, a total of around 2,600 musicians will have been subject to the new laws.80 The gradual but systematic process of the displacement of Jews on the labour market thus had minor effects. This process began with the ‘Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service’ (Gesetz zur Wiederherstellung des Berufsbeamtentums) of 7 April 1933, continued in the summer of 1935 with the general exclusion of Jews from the Reich Chamber of Music and was subsequently completed through the repeal of exemptions.81 Among the few to benefit from this development and explicitly say so was Norbert Schultze, a conductor and later Goebbels’ in-house composer. According to his own statements, having single-mindedly pursued membership of the Militant League for German Culture in order to improve his career opportunities, despite Hitler’s ‘stupid anti-Semitism’, he took over from Hermann Ludwig as conductor at the Munich People’s Theatre (Volkstheater). With Schultze’s consent, however, this Jewish musician continued to work at the same establishment 79 80 81 See Friedrich Zander, ‘Die Berufe der Musikausübenden in der deutschen Reichsstatistik’, Die Musik-Woche no. 25, 19 June 1937, 1–4, here 3. Figures on the other professions in Steinweis, Art, 105. The Nuremberg Race Laws deprived Jews of civil and electoral rights and henceforth made identification dependent on ancestry. See Friedländer, S., Nazi Germany and the Jews: The Years of Persecution, 1933–1939, vol. 1, London 1997, 145–151. Extrapolation based on Friedländer’s figures: according to him, the number of Jews in Germany increased from 525,000 to approximately 700,000 under the new definition. See ibid., 62 and 150 f. My extrapolated figure of 2,600 is somewhat higher than the RMK figure on expulsions, which was around 2,200 musicians in 1936. See Steinweis, Art, 110 f. See Steinweis, Art, 104–120. Above all, it was economic reasons that made a gradual policy necessary. Exceptions long continued to apply to publishing houses such as Fürstner and Peters and to internationally successful composers, who brought in foreign currency. See also Friedländer, Nazi Germany, 131–135. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 288 Chapter 9 as celesta player, and the two allegedly became friends. Few musicians wrote so openly about the ways in which they benefited from the new regime; a supposedly maladroit but simultaneously patronizing attitude, conversely, was far more common, especially in personal accounts that appeared after 1945.82 Meanwhile, for a large portion of the music profession, everyday working life simply continued. It is difficult to judge to what extent musicians were simply ignorant of the exclusion of Jews and other undesirables, indifferent Mitläufer (hangers-on) or applauding sympathizers. But fluctuations in musical line-ups were, traditionally, far from unusual in the fast-moving entertainment sector, and in large symphony orchestras it may not have been especially noticeable if one or two musicians out of fifty disappeared. In any case, given these small numbers and the army of unemployed musicians, it is unsurprising that there are very few accounts of the systematic discrimination against Jewish musicians penned by those who were unaware of what was going on, looked on while doing nothing about it or even benefited from it.83 But it was not only musicians who had nothing to fear from Nazism that soon focussed their attention on everyday life. A large proportion of musicians in Germany facing discrimination also found their way back relatively quickly to a professional life that, while clearly subject to the conditions of Nazi rule, still entailed something akin to everyday work routines. Violinist Alfred Malige, who was employed by the Leipzig Radio Orchestra (Rundfunkorchester) and had been dismissed in March 1933 due to his communist activities, first had to endure further harassment directed against him and his family. This included house searches as well as his wife’s involuntary job transfer and the deliberate withholding of offers of employment. But the violinist did not give up, instead taking up a new career and becoming self-employed. As leader of the ‘Fred Malige’ traveling band, he soon gained a national reputation and, when the war resulted in the disbandment of his ensemble, he was even praised by the editor-in-chief of Unterhaltungsmusik (‘Popular Music’), Arthur von Gyzicki-Arkadjew, who stated that his band had formed ‘a bulwark against the onslaught, against resounding idiocy – against the slippage of the entire profession’. Even if Malige was happy to find a place at a symphony 82 83 See Schultze, Marleen, 35–37. The more closely musicians had been linked with the regime, the more likely such ‘rescue stories’ were. See for example Franz Adam, ‘Lebenslauf des Unterzeichneten, 8.7.1948’, in BSB Ana 559 NL Adam, C. I.16; ‘Spruchkammer München I, Spruch gegen Franz Adam, 10.8.1948’, in ibid. See also Aster, M., The Reich’s Orchestra: The Berlin Philharmonic, 1933–45. Oakville, ON 2010, 55. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 289 orchestra again after the outbreak of war, he did not seem to have regretted his recent foray into the world of popular music.84 For a time, even the activities of Jewish musicians took on almost quotidian features under Nazism, provided they were employed by one of the Jewish cultural leagues. The initiative to found such bodies came from Berlin-based neurologist, violinist and conductor Kurt Singer and director Kurt Baumann, who began to contemplate the future of Jewish cultural workers immediately after the ‘seizure of power’. As early as July 1933, Hans Hinkel, at the time still state commissioner at the Prussian Ministry of Education and Culture, gave the green light for the establishment of a Berlin league. He liked the plan because it kept Jewish artists out of the job market and made them easier to control. In addition, the league could be used for propaganda purposes abroad. Last but not least, as the person in charge, Hinkel banked on increasing his own power.85 The idea of a cultural league quickly inspired imitators throughout the Reich, so that by the mid-1930s, under Nazi supervision, a vibrant cultural life, constructed exclusively by Jews for Jews, had developed in probably more than sixty cities. Classical music played a particularly important role alongside the theatre of the spoken. Entire symphony orchestras were created in Berlin, Frankfurt, Mannheim, Munich, Stuttgart and Breslau. This organizational ghettoization, however, was soon followed by aesthetic restrictions and guidelines: little by little, Hinkel banned the performance of ‘German’ composers and dramatists and narrowed the repertoire down to ‘Jewish’ authors and composers in order to advance cultural segregation and demonstrate the supposed otherness of Jews.86 Regardless of these restrictive and increasingly discriminatory conditions, the Jewish cultural leagues not only enabled musicians to make a living, but also triggered the development of a new lifeworld, in which musical work in the league became a matter of everyday routine. Nowhere is this more clearly expressed than in Martin Goldsmith’s double biography of his parents Günter Goldschmidt and Rosemarie Gumpert, who met in the orchestra of the Frankfurt League. Günter Goldschmidt, who had emigrated to Sweden after a brief period as a substitute worker in Frankfurt, returned to Germany in autumn 84 85 86 See Malige, Musikantenleben, 64–74, quotation on 74. See Fritsch-Vivié, G., Gegen alle Widerstände. Der Jüdische Kulturbund 1933–1941, Berlin 2013, 188–191. On the debate on the character of the league, covering the spectrum from Nazi instrument to aid to emigration, see Hirsch, L. E., A Jewish Orchestra in Nazi Germany: Musical Politics and the Berlin Jewish Cultural League, Ann Arbor, MI 2010, 148–158. See Prieberg, NS-Staat, 80–83; Steinweis, Art, 120–122. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 290 Chapter 9 1936, due no doubt to the delirium of young love, but probably also because orchestral work within the Cultural League appealed to him. According to their own account, the pair had two happy years before they had to move to Berlin. After the pogroms of November 1938 at the latest, which resulted in the disbandment of all the leagues except for the one in Berlin, this refuge of Jewish life in Nazi Germany was finally consigned to history.87 Civil Decline … The effects of the repressive policies targeting Jews and dissidents on the music profession remained negligible because this group was relatively small. The consequences of general music policy and its failures, meanwhile, were more conspicuous. This started with women. Virtually nothing had changed with respect to their extremely meagre presence in symphony orchestras and among performing musicians as a whole; on the contrary, the number of fulltime women musicians fell from more than 5,300 in June 1933 by about a third to just over 3,500 in May 1939. In contrast, the number of self-employed women music teachers increased, from 9,100 to almost 12,400.88 Female musicians who aspired to a career as a performer could expect little help from the new regime. This was hardly surprising given a family policy that, among other things, issued interest-free loans to husbands if their wives gave up work or refrained from taking a job in the first place.89 The Berlin Women’s Chamber Orchestra (Berliner Frauen-Kammerorchester), which was founded in 1934, remained the only one of its kind until the outbreak of war and primarily served propaganda purposes, with appearances abroad as well as at events organized by the Strength Through Joy organization (Kraft durch Freude or KdF) and the National Socialist Cultural Community (Nationalsozialistische Kulturgemeinde). In the shape of the Vienna Women’s Symphony Orchestra (Wiener Frauensymphonieorchester), formed in October 1939, also a purely 87 88 89 See Goldsmith, M., The Inextinguishable Symphony: A True Story of Music and Love in Nazi Germany, New York 2000, 93–100 and 190–195; Kater, Muse, 192; on their subsequent fate, see chapter 10. See tables A, B and C in the appendix. The total increase in the number of working women musicians between 1933 and 1939 by about 3,000 women is chiefly attributable to the field of music education. See Mason, Sozialpolitik, 96 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 291 string ensemble, just one other major orchestra was founded under the Nazi regime.90 The decline in employed women musicians not only coincided with a conservative turn in family policy, but was also congruent with general trends, because the musical labour market shrank considerably in the Nazi state: in 1939 almost 49,000 musicians were in dependent employment, a few hundred fewer than in 1925, although the Reich population rose by almost 30 percent from 62 to 79 million in the same period.91 If we add together full-time and part-time musicians, between 1933 and 1939 the professional field shrank by a little more than 3,000 people in total, from around 119,500 to 116,300 individuals in employment. The number of part-time musicians increased significantly in the same period, which was mainly due to the fact that now many men began to give music lessons on the side or to work as freelance musicians in other ways. In the shape of the 49,000 musicians in full-time employment, there were more than 13,000 more people making a living in 1939 than in 1933; the remaining 16,000, who had been counted as unemployed dependent employees in 1933, however, pursued music only as a side-line or had left the professional field entirely.92 These figures inevitably point to the conclusion that the profession of civilian music had generally lost its appeal, despite all the reform efforts of the Reich Chamber of Music and all the job creation measures implemented by the German Labour Front and its Strength Through Joy organization.93 This development was certainly due in part to factors that were not the responsibility of the Nazi state, such as the advancing mechanization of music and the decline of silent films. Probably more decisive, however, was a certain neglect of the profession, which found expression both directly and indirectly. In terms of direct measures, music policy reforms, some of which had only been undertaken after considerable delay, provided no financial or social policy incentives. And in an indirect sense, the well-being of musicians took a back seat in an economic policy geared towards autarchy and rearmament, a policy that had served to advance German war preparations since the Nuremberg 90 91 92 93 See Friedel, C., ‘Frauenensembles im Dritten Reich’, in Info/Frau und Musik, Internationaler Arbeitskreis e. V.: Archivnachrichten, 19, 1990, 1–10; Prieberg, NS-Staat, 295; Othmar Wetchy, ‘Wiener Frauensymphonieorchester’, Die Musik-Woche no. 30, 20 September 1941, 309. On the KdF, see also Baranowsky, S., Strength through Joy: Consumerism and Mass Tourism in the Third Reich, Cambridge 2007, 56 f. The increase was primarily due to the reintegration of the Saarland, the ‘Anschluss’ of Austria and the occupation of the Sudetenland. See tables A, B and C in the appendix. For details of the job creation measures, see Steinweis, Art, 74–79. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 292 Chapter 9 Reich Party Congress of September 1936 at the latest. Music functionary Hermann Blume was aware of this two years earlier when he declared to the many musicians who had felt overlooked by the new state that there was no point ‘for example, in assigning bands to the work gangs constructing the Reich’s motorways […]’.94 The declining appeal of the civilian music profession was already noticeable in peacetime. One young orchestral musician, for example, who had learned his trade in a municipal apprentice band and was determined to make a career in a ‘cultural orchestra’, complained of a lack of opportunities for advancement and low wages. The high-cultural institutions, he contended, did not even consider applications from musicians in outdated municipal pipe bands, while the apprentice’s and journeyman’s wages were barely enough to live on.95 Even established orchestral musicians predicted anything but a bright future for their profession. Of 100 musicians, violinist Ekkehard Vigelius speculated, 99 would not allow their son to embark on a musical career: ‘He’d be better off going into something more sensible!’ was the oft-heard rationale.96 As a result of the low demand for a music degree, the problem received more attention. ‘How are […] our cultural orchestras supposed to fill their gaps when the water level in the reservoirs is already sinking alarmingly?’ Hanns Ludwig Kormann asked resignedly in the spring of 1939. Again taking up a concept dear to the defunct Musicians’ Union, this employee of the Reich Music Examination Office (Reichsmusikprüfstelle) in the Ministry of Propaganda pleaded for the re-establishment of orchestral schools at conservatoires.97 Once again remarkably late, a debate on reforming the education system at all levels thus began, from music schools through orchestral schools to conservatoires, which dragged on until 1943, but could achieve virtually nothing due to the war.98 Not only the war, but the years of preparation for 94 95 96 97 98 Hermann Blume, ‘Arbeit, Arbeit! Das Gebot der Stunde’, Musik im Zeitbewußtsein no. 36, 8 September 1934, 1. H. Gaiser, ‘Die Not der Jungen – die Anstellung. Eine Stimme aus den Reihen der jungen Orchestermusiker’, Die Musik-Woche no. 39, 24 September 1938, 605 f. Ekkehard Vigelius, ‘Formung und Ausbildung des Nachwuchses für die Kulturorchester’, Die Musik-Woche no. 23, 4 June 1938, 369 f. Hans Ludwig Kormann, ‘Zur Frage des Musiker-Nachwuchses’, Die Musik-Woche no. 12, 25 March 1939, 178 f. On the recruitment problem, see also Prieberg, NS-Staat, 296. See note ‘Einrichtung von Orchesterschulen, 24.5.1941’, in BArch N 15/317; ‘Rust an Unterrichtsverwaltungen der Länder’, in ibid. R 36/2386; ‘Rust an Bormann, 24.4.1943’, in ibid. R 36/2387. For critical remarks on the state of the music academies, see also Oberborbeck, F., ‘Gegenwartsaufgaben der Musikhochschule’, in W. Stumme (ed.), Musik im Volk. Grundfragen der Musikerziehung, Berlin 1939, 83–101; see also Prieberg, NS-Staat, 251 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 293 war led to an appreciable depletion of the civilian profession. The flipside of this neglect was the renaissance of military music. … and Remilitarization The boom in military music, which has as yet mostly been overlooked, was as natural as it was extensive. With the reintroduction of compulsory military service in March 1935, a massive programme of rearmament began, which included military music. Numerous new regimental bands were created, and all were increased in size by 10 musicians, to make a total of 37 per ensemble. The SS and SA also effected a musical upgrade. The establishment of highquality wind orchestras for the Luftwaffe, as a new branch of the armed forces, happened to be one of the favourite pastimes of its Commander-in-Chief Hermann Göring.99 There are no exact figures, but contemporaries estimated the number of military bands at between 900 and 1,000, employing an estimated 31,500 to 35,000 musicians.100 On this premise, in 1939 one in three full-time musicians was employed by the armed forces, and this group made up almost 40 percent of musicians in dependent employment.101 The remilitarization of German musical life has never captured the attention of researchers in part because of a highly unfavourable source situation.102 Military music probably also faded into the background because it became independent of the Reich Chamber of Music. In October 1934, the Reichswehr Ministry and the RMK agreed to exempt military musicians from all rights and duties involved in the chamber. On paper, the different bailiwicks were neatly separated, and public performances by military bands were restricted to a few events per month. But the agreement deprived the civilian 99 100 101 102 The artistic recognition of his wind orchestras was so important to Göring that in 1937 he intervened in an unsuccessful attempt to prompt the ADMV to include them in the musicians’ conventions. He was more successful with the STAGMA, where he achieved a special status for composers who composed new works for his wind orchestras. See ‘Reichsminister der Luftfahrt an Rasch, 18.3.1937’, in GSA 70/152; Dümling, Musik, 222. See Höfele, Militärmusik, 187–195. On the SS, see Bunge, F., Musik in der Waffen-SS. Die Geschichte der SS-Musikkorps, Dresden 2006. Number of musicians calculated on the basis of 35 musicians per band: although trumpet and battalion bands had 27 members, many special military bands (Sondermusikkorps) were much larger. See table A in the appendix. Military musicians were not counted in the occupational census. See Matthews, B., Military Music & Bandsmen of Adolf Hitler’s Third Reich 1933–1945, Winchester 2002, 27. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 294 Chapter 9 authorities of all control over the future size of military music formations and over how important they ought to be. It was not long before the RMK was complaining that the Reichswehr was aggressively recruiting students in training at apprentice bands and similar establishments.103 The competitive battle for prestige and influence in Nazi musical life had thus been joined, and the figures make it clear that military music gained considerable ground in a very short time. In reality, the military musical apparatus grew rapidly and in an uncoordinated manner. The band of the Leibstandarte SS ‘Adolf Hitler’, for example, was formed as early as August 1933; other SS bands were founded soon after. Military musicians were not, however, recruited only from among up-and-coming civilian musicians. Soldiers trained in the Hitler Youth, seasoned professional musicians and amateurs all came together in military bands. What they had in common was that they had to undergo basic military training, which lasted up to three months, before they could pick up their instrument.104 In contrast to the civilian sector, the expansion of military music was flanked by a targeted policy intended to ensure a new generation of musicians. As early as October 1935, a military music school was established in Bückeburg, which was officially recognized by the War Ministry but initially remained in civilian hands and under the supervision of the RMK. Four years later, when the desired results failed to materialize, Ernst Lothar von Knorr, music advisor to the Army High Command, insisted that it should be placed under military administration. He got his wish and, in the shape of Paul Kehr, a former conductor of the Munich State Opera was put in charge of the school.105 Among the most prominent students of this institution were Hans Last, who made a great career in West Germany under the first name of James, and Werner Müller, who later established the RIAS (Rundfunk im amerikanischen Sektor or ‘Radio in the American Sector’) Dance Orchestra (Tanzorchester) in Berlin, directing it for almost twenty years.106 A second military music school opened shortly afterwards in Frankfurt am Main. Earlier, in 1938, the Luftwaffe had 103 104 105 106 See ‘Vereinbarung zwischen dem Reichswehrministerium und der Reichsmusikkammer’, Amtliche Mitteilungen der RMK no. 34, 3 October 1934, 117 f.; ‘Einstellung von Musiklehrlingen in die Musikkorps der Reichswehr’, ibid. no. 17, 22 May 1935, 47. See Bunge, Musik, 25–39; Matthews, Military, 34–36. See ‘Errichtung einer Militärmusikschule in Bückeburg’, Amtliche Mitteilungen der RMK no. 27, 2 October 1935, 81; Knorr, E.-L. von, Lebenserinnerungen. Erlebtes musikalisches Geschehen in Deutschland, edited by Ernst-Lothar von Knorr-Stiftung, Cologne 1996, 78–81. See Last, J. and T. Macho, Mein Leben. Die Autobiographie, Munich 2007, 29–33. On Müller, see Wölfer, J., Jazz in Deutschland. Das Lexikon. Alle Musiker und Plattenfirmen von 1920 bis heute, Höfen 2008, 238. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 295 already opened its own school in Sondershausen, and the Waffen SS also set great store by having its own training facility, which opened its doors in Braunschweig in 1940.107 Military bands’ aspiration to produce art music did not disappear under Nazism. On the contrary, seasoned orchestral musicians taught at the newly established schools. In addition to marching and wind music, military bands also frequently gave symphony concerts. I have already mentioned the artistic ambitions of the Luftwaffe, whose formations readily presented their new wind music compositions at the Berlin Philharmonic. And the SSLeibstandarte band made the trip to Bayreuth every year to sound the fanfares from the balcony of the Festival Theatre.108 Military music was valorized on ideological grounds, and even civilian musical notables, regardless of musical genre, could not ignore its enhanced status: both Paul Lincke and Peter Raabe conducted military music formations without further ado, and Richard Strauss fulsomely praised arrangements of his orchestral works for military bands. Finally, military music’s remarkable comeback was topped off by Hitler himself, who met a demand made by its practitioners for over fifty years: in April 1938, he at last elevated bandmasters to the rank of officer. Within a few years of Nazi rule, the army had once again become an attractive and respected employer for musicians.109 United in Discord: the Music of the Volksgemeinschaft Overall, the measures pursued by the Reich Chamber of Music were calculated to organize musicians’ various areas of activity, to classify them hierarchically according to artistic criteria and to differentiate them more strongly from one another in terms of labour and employment law. Aesthetic music policy in a narrower sense, meanwhile, aimed to provide a musical foundation for the Volksgemeinschaft or National Community and thus to do the exact opposite. In addition to the destructive aspect of this policy, which is often discussed 107 108 109 See Matthew, Military, 40 f. For details on Sondershausen, see Höfele, Militärmusik, 191–193. See Bunge, Musik, 25–28 and 70–74; Georg Kandler, ‘Was erhoffen wir vom Jahre 1937?’, DMMZ no. 3, 16 January 1937, 1–4; Hauptmann Winter, ‘Die Musik der Luftwaffe’, ibid. no. 9, 28 February 1937, 7 f. Lincke conducted the Leibstandarte among other ensembles; see Bunge, Musik, 26; Georg Kandler, ‘Der Präsident der Reichsmusikkammer dirigierte deutsche Militärmusiker’, DMMZ no. 24, 12 June 1937, 2 f.; Georg Kandler, ‘Richard Strauss über Bearbeitungen seiner sinfonischen Werke für Blasorchester’, ibid. no. 43, 26 October 1940, 371. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 296 Chapter 9 in the literature – such as the Degenerate Music exhibition in Düsseldorf in 1938 or the jazz ban on radio issued in October 1935 – the relevant authorities launched various initiatives to create new, truly ‘German’ music and thus to give the longed-for Volksgemeinschaft the ‘right’ soundtrack.110 It was so-called popular music (Unterhaltungsmusik) that received the greatest amount of attention. This was a term that the Nazis had certainly not invented, but which they consciously propagated and used as an alternative to ‘ensemble music’ with its French connotations.111 There were at least four reasons that popular music was the focus of aesthetic music policy. First, the goal was to counter the hated jazz with something new and German. Second, nowhere did the expulsion of Jews from musical life leave a greater void than in the creative field of popular music. Third, the masses felt little enthusiasm for modern art music, even if it was written by composers as loyal to the party line as Werner Egk or Paul Graener. And fourth, the overall valorization of the music profession could succeed only if popular music received greater aesthetic recognition. It is thus no coincidence that in his ‘Ten Principles of German Music-Making’, which he proclaimed at the Reich Music Festival (Reichsmusiktage) in Düsseldorf in the summer of 1938, Goebbels stated dryly in his second precept: ‘Not all music is suitable for everyone.’ Therefore, the propaganda minister went on, ‘the kind of popular music that has found favour with the broad masses [also has] its raison d’etre’. Conversely, it was not until his penultimate point that he mentioned the ‘great masters of the past’, who had to be honoured.112 The increased commitment to a ‘new popular music’, of the kind Hinkel called for in 1936 at the first Reich conference of the Composers’ Department,113 provided representatives of different musical worlds with a common 110 111 112 113 On the exhibition, see Du Closel, A., Erstickte Stimmen. ‘Entartete Musik’ im Dritten Reich, Vienna 2010; for a summarizing account of Jazz, see Hasenbein, H., ‘Unerwünscht – toleriert – instrumentalisiert. Jazz und Swing im Nationalsozialismus’, 1999. Zeitschrift für Sozialgeschichte des 20. und 21. Jahrhunderts no. 10, 1995, 38–52; Polster, B., ‘Es zittern die morschen Knochen’, in Polster, B. (ed.), ‘Swing Heil’. Jazz im Nationalsozialismus, Berlin 1989, 9–30. Thus, in 1936, the Fachschaft für Ensemble- und freistehende Musiker (Division of Ensemble and Freelance Musicians) was renamed the Fachschaft Unterhaltungsmusiker (Division of Entertainment Musicians), just as the tradition-rich journal Der Artist (‘The Artist’) was renamed Die Unterhaltungsmusik (‘Popular Music’). See Herrock, ‘Unterhaltungsmusik’, Die Unterhaltungsmusik no. 2650, 1 October 1936, 1239–1241. ‘Zehn Grundsätze deutschen Musikschaffens’, Amtliche Mitteilungen der RMK no. 11, 1 June 1938, 41. For the essentials, see Jockwer, ‘Unterhaltungsmusik’. See ‘1. Reichstagung der deutschen Komponisten’, Die Einheit no. 6, November 1937, 3–6. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 297 theme and inspired some absurd suggestions. On the one hand – and in involuntary continuity with the free-spirited aesthetic eclecticism of the Weimar Republic – some ensemble musicians advocated adapting or arranging works by German composers for popular music. Baroque music was identified as suitable material for the coffee house, as were excerpts from Egk’s opera Die Zaubergeige. Various songs by Richard Strauss, whose vocals were to be replaced by the first violin, were also discussed, and even Bruckner was far from taboo. An article in Unterhaltungsmusik, for instance, recommended the trio in the third movement of Symphony No. 4 and the adagio in Symphony No. 7 for arrangement, because, as it argued, there were ample opportunities even for musicians in this field to ‘enter into Bruckner’s cheerful and pious German heart’.114 While such ideas were subject to controversial debate, this discourse clearly made an impact on the music publishers’ programming policy. A monthly booklet of autumn 1936, for example, which promised the ‘latest hit and song lyrics’, included Franz Schubert’s ‘Ständchen’ right next to ‘Tante Jutta aus Kalkutta’ (‘Aunt Jutta from Calcutta’).115 On the other hand, well-known figures in the world of art music suddenly began to grapple with the nature and future of popular music and sought to level differences. Furtwängler, for example, intervened in the jazz debate. Conceding that he had no idea about this style of music, he suggested that it should not be condemned wholesale. Something could certainly be done with ‘classical jazz music’ if, ‘instead of the dance music of the Negro women […] the rustling of the palm trees’ were set to music: ‘The essence of the music should be captured, making it both folksy and uplifting.’116 In an interview, Chamber President Peter Raabe, when asked for his opinion of hits, recalled an entrance exam in which the examinee stated that he would now sing the popular ‘Winterstürme wichen dem Wonnemond’, an excerpt from Wagner’s Die Walküre. Hit songs, Raabe concluded, were a matter of quality and values: ‘We need a cheery German dance that refuses to emulate hot jazz.’117 In order to create such music, Raabe stated elsewhere, those composers who had already made 114 115 116 117 Lothar H. Br. Schmidt, ‘Bruckner, der deutsche Mensch’, Die Unterhaltungsmusik no. 2651, 8 October 1936, 1259 f. On Baroque music, see Otto Icks, ‘Gute Musik im Kaffeehaus’, Der Artist no. 2459, 3 February 1933, 140. On Strauss and other contemporaries, see Reinmar von Zweter, ‘Kreuz und quer durch die Musik’, ibid. no. 2640, 23 July 1936, 843. Reinmar von Zweter, ‘Kreuz und quer durch die Musik’, Der Artist no. 2467, 10 September 1936, 1129; see also Jockwer, ‘Unterhaltungsmusik’, 161–167. Reinmar von Zweter, ‘Kreuz und quer durch die Musik’, Der Artist no. 2640, 23 July 1936, 843. Reinmar von Zweter, ‘Kreuz und quer durch die Musik’, Die Unterhaltungsmusik no. 2652, 15 October 1936, 1290 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 298 Chapter 9 a career in the world of serious music must also be made to do their duty. They should not ‘consider themselves too good to write good popular music’.118 There was thus no lack either of declarations of loyalty to the musical ‘National Community’ or of suggested routes to a new popular music, however fanciful they may have been. In practice, however, concrete initiatives regularly failed because aesthetic preferences were ultimately more important to composers, performers and the audience than ideological precepts. The first such initiative was the ‘great advertising campaign’ launched by the Composers’ Department. In August 1934, its tellingly titled bulletin Die Einheit (‘Unity’), called ‘creators to the front’:119 fresh ‘German’ music was to be identified through an eight-category competition, while the works selected would be advertised on the radio and at special concerts. The first three categories were reserved for the popular genre: dance music, popular music and artistic popular music. Works were initially assessed by examining committees, which were established within the country’s various music academies and were supposed to cooperate with a representative of the venerable General German Music Association. Hence, the advertising campaign de facto expanded the association’s decades-long practice of presenting compositions of art music submitted annually at musicians’ festivals to the entire musical spectrum; this led to genres such as mass singing and popular music becoming part of these events from 1934 onwards.120 For the selection of works in the field of popular music, experts were to be called in, which reflects the one-sided staffing of the examining committees by representatives of serious music. From a musical point of view, no further guidelines were issued other than the recommendation to avoid ‘American instrumentation’ with respect to works in the three popular categories. Committee members were advised to privilege instruments that were ‘in line with the German character’, such as the horn.121 Despite the large number of participants, the competition ended in a fiasco, at least when it came to popular music. It was mainly better-known composers who had submitted their work, though the initiative was intended to unlock latent talent. Furthermore, the jury assessed the quality of the submissions as moderate at best, especially 118 119 120 121 ‘Der zweite deutsche Komponistentag’, Die Einheit 5, December 1935, 1–12, here 10. ‘Die Schaffenden an die Front’, Die Einheit 2, August 1934, 1 f. See ‘Bestimmungen für den großen Werbefeldzug des Berufsstandes der Komponisten’, Die Einheit 2, August 1934, 3 f.; Kopsch, ‘Vermerk, 8.8.1934’, in GSA 70/152; Ernst Laaf, ‘67. Tonkünstlerversammlung des ADMV’, Deutsche Musik-Zeitung no. 7, 14 July 1936, 56–59; see also Kaminiarz, Strauss, here 17 f. Ibid. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 299 in the three popular music categories. Most of the entries were for the latter but fell so far below the requirements of the examining authorities that the planned performances were cancelled.122 The damning indictment delivered by the composers of art music to their colleagues in the field of popular music was just the first of several slaps in the face for the hit-making faction. This pointed up the absurdity of any notion of professional unity, let alone the broader vision of a musical ‘National Community’. The composers’ conferences held annually at Burg Castle near Remscheid from 1936 onwards clearly reflected serious musicians’ disdain for popular music: so few representatives of the latter were present at the first conference that Graener spoke profusely about their mediocre artistic work.123 A year later, the specially arranged ‘cheerful musical evening’ in a pub triggered such vociferous expressions of displeasure with the works performed – by composers such as Hanns Löhr and Will Meisel – that the event had to be aborted. And in the years that followed too, the representatives of popular music in attendance felt they were being routinely neglected as second-class composers.124 Conversely, popular music that pandered to the views prevailing among the purveyors of serious music and came across as overly ambitious or oldfashioned rarely found favour with the public. The music festival in Bad Pyrmont organized a composition competition in August 1936 with a view to promoting ‘new, entertaining music’; this was intended to breathe new life into spa music. One review praised one or the other new composition, such as Boris Blacher’s ‘Kurmusik’ for its rousing character. Overall, however, it was cautiously expressed criticism that predominated in this text. The characterization of Hermann Erpf’s ‘Nachtmusik’, which the reviewer felt was overloaded with polyphony and counterpoint, gives us at least some idea of the liveliness and entertainment value of these concerts. However that may be, the conclusion was clear: ‘There is no such thing yet as a new German popular music’ – because, to quote the reason identified by this reviewer, most new works failed utterly to connect with the audience.125 122 123 124 125 See ‘Der Werbefeldzug’, Die Einheit 3, December 1934, 16. Graener’s allegations against popular music were, however, in part personally motivated, because he was in financial difficulties and also envied his colleagues’ lavish royalties. He thus also tried to shift the distribution key further in favour of serious music. See Domann, ‘Graener’, 76–78. For details, see Jockwer, ‘Unterhaltungsmusik’, 169–174. Walter Riekenberg, ‘Pyrmonter Musikfest 1936’, Der Artist no. 2647, 10 September 1936, 1131–1134; ‘Neue unterhaltsame Musik’, ibid. no. 2643, 13 August 1936, 1007 f.; Jockwer, ‘Unterhaltungsmusik’, 170 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 300 Chapter 9 Finally, dance music was such a hot topic that the Composers’ Department would not go near it, while the radio stations got their fingers burned when they did. In the wake of the jazz ban issued in 1935, the latter initiated a public competition to find a substitute. It ended in an own goal. At the Berlin finale in March 1936, Fritz Weber, who was highly favoured by the around 7,000 listeners, and his band – suspected of jazz – came away empty-handed, while the staid Willy Burkart won first prize; Weber subsequently went on to fill venues throughout the Reich, while Burkart was never to be heard of again.126 As meagre as the musical accomplishments of these initiatives were, and though they did little to forge a musical ‘National Community’ among audiences or even within the musical fraternity, they did have certain consequences. The unsuccessful search for a new ‘German’ popular music, which was concurrently intended to endow this musical spectrum with greater prestige, at least helped improve the financial position of its creators. It was not entirely coincidental that the originator of this initiative was Norbert Schultze, composer of ‘Lili Marleen’ and ‘Bomben auf Engelland’. An opportunist through and through, he was also a conformist traveller between musical worlds of every kind imaginable and in this respect he was perfectly in keeping with Goebbels’ musico-political tastes. Schultze embraced the ideology of a musical ‘National Community’ and applied it to the distribution key of the State-Approved Society for the Exploitation of Musical Performing Rights (Staatlich genehmigte Gesellschaft zur Verwertung musikalischer Aufführungsrechte or STAGMA). In 1940, he had a memorandum distributed within the German music world in which he expressed the view that the ‘division of German composers and their works into a culturally more valuable and a culturally less valuable class no longer corresponds in any way to the facts’.127 Schultze thus called into question the so-called ‘serious third’, a regulation only introduced in 1934 at the urging of Richard Strauss. It stipulated that regardless of the music events generating capital, a third of the total revenue would be distributed to composers of art music. Schultze’s little revolution led to lively discussions at Burg Castle, though nothing came of them. Goebbels, 126 127 For details, see Ritzel, F., ‘“… und nun an die Front, deutsche Kapellen, deutsche Musiker!” Informationen und Überlegungen zu Wettbewerben in der populären Musikszene aus der Zeit vor dem 2. Weltkrieg’, in D. Helms and T. Phleps (eds.), Keiner darf gewinnen. Populäre Musik im Wettbewerb, Bielefeld 2005, 41–55; on other failed initiatives, see also Kater, Spiel, 110–117. Quoted in ‘Arbeitstagung auf Schloß Burg’, Mitteilungen der Fachschaft Komponisten Nov. 1940, 11. See also his own account in Schultze, Marleen, 86 f.; also Prieberg, NS-Staat, 264 f. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 301 however, with a view to the propaganda value of popular music in the war, embraced Schultze’s critique and adjusted the distribution key to the benefit of this genre. Popular music had taken its revenge.128 But the long-term consequences of these forced encounters and conflicts between representatives of serious and popular music should not be underestimated. The guiding idea of artistically valuable popular music, which shaped all debates and initiatives to a greater or lesser extent, cast its shadow as far as the young West Germany. There were many reasons for the undynamic state of this musical world, in which hit orchestras and cover bands dominated stages and radio broadcasts.129 One of them, however, was certainly that the expulsion of Jewish composers and the backward-looking music policy of the Nazi regime triggered a palpable decline in creativity. Whether Nazism was truly anti-modern has rightly been called into question in many areas; here it undoubtedly was.130 Another reason may be that the sense of aesthetic inferiority, articulated so persistently, turned into a complex in which even musicians devoted to popular music felt they had a duty to create ‘valuable’ and ‘uplifting’ music for posterity and perhaps even eternity.131 Beyond Instrumentalization ‘When I listen to Beethoven, I become braver.’ This phrase, attributed to Bismarck, was not only popular under Nazism, but was modified through the 128 129 130 131 See Dümling, Musik, 222–231. Prior to 1934, around a quarter of the revenue had gone to composers of art music. See Nathaus, K., ‘Vom polarisierten zum pluralisierten Publikum. Populärmusik und soziale Differenzierung in Westdeutschland, circa 1950–1985’, in S. O. Müller et al. (eds.), Kommunikation im Musikleben. Harmonien und Dissonanzen im 20. Jahrhundert, Göttingen 2015, 251–275. For an appraisal, see Potter, Suppression, 175–180 and 207–214; the ideological antimodernism that shines through here is, of course, not to be confused with social practice, which, as the opening scene in the Rositabar has already made clear, sometimes offered more ‘modern’ sounds. On the fundamental aspects of the Nazi regime’s ‘modernity’, see Herf, J., Reactionary Modernism: Technology, Culture, and Politics in Weimar and the Third Reich, Cambridge 1984; see also Bavaj, R., Die Ambivalenz der Moderne im Nationalsozialismus, Munich 2003. See Larkey, ‘Postwar’, 234 f. and 237 f. For a retrospective account, see also Kuhn, P., Swingende Jahre. Der Mann am Klavier erzählt seine Lebensgeschichte, Bergisch Gladbach 1988, 87–89. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ 302 Chapter 9 addition of the comparative form.132 The Nazi state undoubtedly instrumentalized this and many other kinds of music and musicians for political and ideological purposes, a phenomenon that has been elaborated time and again in the scholarly literature.133 But the Nazis not only ‘abused’ music; they also neglected it. As this chapter has shown, this emerges if we undertake a diachronic comparison with the Weimar Republic, if we assess the attention paid by the regime to Euterpe and Bellona and if we contrast the civilian profession with military music. Last but not least, it applies even with a view to other arts such as the theatre of the spoken word, for which the Propaganda Ministry made available almost four times as much funds as for music, the visual arts and literature combined.134 That the Nazi state instrumentalized music and musicians for ideological purposes while concurrently neglecting them in terms of cultural and social policy does not necessarily imply a contradiction. It is a matter of perspective and of which aspects of history we seek to illuminate. The rhetoric of ‘faster-higher-further’ (and indeed braver), which was inherent in Nazi ideology and appeared again and again in the statements of Hitler, Goebbels and others, made an impact on musical life as elsewhere. Yet it was quite out of sync with the sluggish pace of reform. In other policy fields, it proved easier to respond to the self-imposed pressure to act with the aid of networks, improvisation and flexible decision-making structures, but music policy suffered from entrenched aesthetic, professional and, not least, classrelated conflicts that could not simply be wiped away by a change of regime and the propagation of a musical ‘National Community’.135 132 133 134 135 Hermann Unger, ‘“Wenn ich Beethoven höre, werde ich tapferer”. Eine Untersuchung über das Thema “Kriegsmusik’”, DMMZ no. 13/14, 5 July 1942, 105–107. Of the first movement of the Appassionata, Bismarck is said to have commented, ‘If I listened to this music often, I would always be very brave’. Quoted in Engelberg, W., Das private Leben der Bismarcks, Berlin 1998, 59. See Kater, Muse; another example is Trümpi, F., The Political Orchestra: The Vienna and Berlin Philharmonics During the Third Reich. Translated by Kenneth Kronenberg. Chicago 2016. On Beethoven specifically, see Dennis, D. B., Beethoven in German Politics, 1870–1989, New Haven 1996, 142–174. Between 1933 and 1943, the RMVP spent 26.4 percent of its budget on theatre, but only 6.2 percent on the other three fields mentioned. See Vossler, F., Propaganda in die eigene Truppe. Die Truppenbetreuung in der Wehrmacht 1939–1945, Paderborn 2005, 289. See also Steinweis, Art, 75 f. See Reichardt, S. and W. Seibel, ‘Radikalität und Stabilität. Herrschen und Verwalten im Nationalsozialismus’, in Reichardt, S. and W. Seibel (eds.), Der prekäre Staat. Herrschen und Verwalten im Nationalsozialismus, Frankfurt am Main 2011, 7–27. The ‘new statehood’ of the Nazi regime, introduced into the debate by Hachtmann, a concept that Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ Neglected Muse: Nazi Music Policy 303 Hence, the regime’s music policy ultimately adhered to the general trajectory of Nazi social policy much more closely than has been recognized. At first, this policy could only haltingly mitigate the dire consequences of the global economic crisis. In general, it did little to defuse class conflicts. And from the autumn of 1936 onwards, it had to bow to the prerogatives of the accelerated rearmament programme. While employees in some branches of the economy, particularly the consumer goods industry, could still capitalize on the incipient labour shortage, this was not yet the case for civilian musicians in peacetime.136 The fact that the Nazi state neglected musicians, however, does not mean that their lifeworld remained untouched by it. On the contrary, after 1933 certain far-reaching and in some cases long-term developments set in: the civilian lifeworld shrank, partly because of remilitarization, while Jewish and other musicians classified as hostile to the regime had to come to terms with completely new living conditions as a result of systematic exclusion.137 The efforts of the Reich Chamber of Music to gain control over the profession and establish a hierarchy of occupational profiles undoubtedly fostered the separation of serious and popular music. Hence, the boundary line between exalted art and mere play was further reinforced through social policy; countervailing cultural policy measures, such as the search for artistically high-quality popular music, were unsuccessful. The RMK also failed to establish a clear boundary between professional musicians on the one hand and music-lovers and amateurs on the other. Overall, the civilian music profession became less appealing and suffered reputational losses during the first six years of Nazi rule. It was only during the war that the Nazi state paid more attention to musicians, when Bismarck’s reaction to Beethoven was in greater demand than ever. 136 137 builds, among other things, on the work of Reichardt and Seibel, was thus less effective in musical life. See Hachtmann, R., ‘Wie einzigartig war das NS-Regime? Autoritäre Herrschaftssysteme der ersten Hälfte des 20. Jahrhunderts im Vergleich – ein Forschungsbericht’, NPL no. 62, 2017, 229–280, here 263–267 and 275–277. See Mason, Sozialpolitik, here 105, 126 f., 139 and 229–232. For an in-depth treatment, see the next chapter. Martin Rempe - 9789004542723 Downloaded from Brill.com 04/23/2024 08:46:22AM via Open Access. This is an open access chapter distributed under the terms of the CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/