The Lexicon of Musical Invective is an American musicological work by Nicolas Slonimsky. It was first published in 1953, with a revised and expanded second edition appearing in 1965. The book is an anthology of negative musical criticism, focusing primarily on works that later became part of the standard classical repertoire and on composers now widely regarded as canonical, including Beethoven and Varèse.
The material is systematically organized, with entries arranged alphabetically by composer and chronologically within each section. The volume also contains an index titled the âÂÂInvecticon,â or âÂÂIndex of Invectives,â which categorizes recurring critical expressions under thematic headings, ranging from âÂÂaberrationâ to âÂÂzoo,â and provides references to the corresponding passages.
The structure of the work highlights the rhetorical strategies and stylistic devices employed in critical writing, including metaphorical language and unconventional comparisons. The juxtaposition of critiques drawn from different historical periodsâÂÂoften directed at works that later achieved recognitionâÂÂreveals recurring patterns of resistance to musical innovation and contributes to the bookâÂÂs ironic and often humorous effect.
In a preface titled Non-Acceptance of the Unfamiliar, Slonimsky identifies a central theme of the collection: the tendency of critics to reject unfamiliar artistic developments. A later edition, published in 2000, includes a foreword by Peter Schickele, titled If You CanâÂÂt Think of Something Nice to Say, Come Sit Next to Me, which offers a humorous reflection on the work and its implications.
The book has been regarded as a reference resource for the study of nineteenth- and early twentieth-century musical reception. Its entries were extensively used in , a work published in 1965 by and Jean-Claude Carrière. A Spanish translation by , titled Repertorio de vituperios musicales, was published in 2016. Concepts illustrated by SlonimskyâÂÂs compilation have subsequently been applied in the analysis of critical reception in other musical genres, including popular music.
The Lexicon of Musical Invective developed over a period of more than twenty years and was shaped by the career of Nicolas Slonimsky, as well as by his contact with a number of prominent composers of the early twentieth century.
The October Revolution forced Slonimsky, a Jewish musician born in Petrograd, into exile. In his autobiography, he described the city as "as good as dead" by the summer of 1918, due to the chaos of the final months of World War I and the onset of the Russian Civil War. During this period, widespread violence, including the White and Red Terror, , was accompanied by antisemitic attacks and pogroms.
Slonimsky initially traveled to Kyiv, where he assisted the family of the composer Alexander Scriabin, who had died in 1915. There, he became associated with a circle of intellectuals that included Boris de Schlà Âzer. He also founded a âÂÂScriabin Societyâ with the aim of supporting the composerâÂÂs family. During this period, he participated in efforts to locate ScriabinâÂÂs son, Julian Scriabin, who had disappeared at the age of eleven; the circumstances of the childâÂÂs death remained unclear.
Slonimsky subsequently moved through several cities, including Yalta, Constantinople, and Sofia, before settling in Paris in 1921. There, he worked briefly with the conductor Serge Koussevitzky, which enabled him to establish connections with émigré composers such as Stravinsky and Prokofiev. His professional relationship with Koussevitzky, however, proved unstable, and in 1923 he accepted a position at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester.
After relocating to the United States, Slonimsky pursued a career as a conductor, receiving favorable attention in his early performances. This success led to a renewed collaboration with Koussevitzky and prompted his move to Boston in 1927, where he became involved with leading American composers of the period.
Among his contemporaries were George Gershwin and Aaron Copland, whom Slonimsky introduced to one another. Another central figure in this milieu was Henry Cowell, who promoted modernist composers in his writings. Slonimsky actively supported the work of composers he regarded as innovative, organizing performances of their music in both the United States and Europe.
In 1928, Cowell established a connection with two composers, Charles Ives and Edgard Varèse, who had an influence on him. During the subsequent five years, Slonimsky presented the works of these composers in the United States and Europe, along with those of Cowell, Chávez, Carl Ruggles, Wallingford Riegger, and Amadeo Roldán. Notable concerts included:
In her biography of Varèse, Odile Vivier observed that the Paris concerts of 1931âÂÂ1932 were generally well received, although such performances remained relatively infrequent.
A significant number of SlonimskyâÂÂs concerts in the United States and Europe were financed by Charles Ives, who had accumulated considerable wealth through his career in the insurance industry. Benefiting from favorable exchange rates for the U.S. dollar in the early 1930s, Nicolas Slonimsky organized a series of concerts in major European cultural centers, including Paris and Berlin. These activities eventually led to an engagement at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles. The venture, however, proved financially unsuccessful, in part because of the conservative preferences of its traditional patrons. Following this setback, Slonimsky abandoned his conducting career and turned to writing, later describing the transition as a move âÂÂfrom baton to pen".
Although not all of these concerts involved premieres, they were often of considerable importance. On 21 February 1932 in Paris, Slonimsky conducted Bartók's Piano Concerto No. 1, with the composer as soloist. The performance and its reception were noted favorably by composers and critics such as Darius Milhaud, Paul Le Flem, and Florent Schmitt, who published their favorable critiques in Comà Âdia and Le Temps. More broadly, the reactions of critics in both France and Germany frequently matched the provocative character of the music itself. In his autobiography (1988), Slonimsky recalled the âÂÂextraordinary torrent of invectiveâ elicited by modern compositions, citing in particular a hostile review by Walter Abendroth of a work by Wallingford Riegger:
Such reactions contributed to SlonimskyâÂÂs decision to compile a collection of critical invective, which would later form the basis of The Lexicon of Musical Invective. In 1944, on the occasion of the seventieth birthday of Arnold Schoenberg, Slonimsky presented him with a selection of particularly severe reviews of his works, a gesture reportedly received with humor by the composer of Pierrot Lunaire.
A further stimulus for the project arose from SlonimskyâÂÂs work on Music Since 1900, an extensive chronological survey. In the course of research conducted in libraries in Boston and New York City, he examined numerous nineteenth- and twentieth-century newspaper articles. Among the examples he later cited was an 1841 critique of Frédéric Chopin published in The Musical World (London), notable for its highly disparaging tone.
In 1948, the collection of musical anecdotes he published () dedicated a section to "pleasant and unpleasant" critiques, selected for their brevity and wit. Examples include concise and ironic observations on composers such as Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky and Chopin."
The following year, Carl Engel introduces Nicolas Slonimsky as a "the lexicographic beagle of keen scent and sight" in his preface to the BakerâÂÂs Biographical Dictionary of Musicians.
According to Nicolas Slonimsky, the Lexicon is defined as âÂÂan anthology of critical attacks on composers since the time of Ludwig van Beethoven.â Its selection principle deliberately reverses that of conventional publicity practices: instead of isolating favorable excerpts from otherwise mixed reviews, the work compiles negative, biased, or dismissive judgments, often notable for their lack of foresight.
In the introduction, Slonimsky outlines the organization and use of the volume. Composers are listed alphabetically, from Béla Bartók to Anton Webern, with critiques presented in chronological order within each entry. A separate section, titled the âÂÂInvecticonâ (or âÂÂIndex of InvectivesâÂÂ), classifies quotations thematically under keywords ranging from âÂÂaberrationâ to âÂÂzoo".
Some of these keywords are further qualified by clarifications such as âÂÂin musicâ or âÂÂin a pejorative sense.â Slonimsky employs a degree of humor in guiding readers through the index, notably suggesting consultation of the entry âÂÂugly,â which directs to numerous composers and pages, beginning âÂÂpracticallyâ with Beethoven.
The author acknowledges that certain critiques were included for their unusual and spicy character, and he does not shy away from seeing Vincent d'Indy, who was the first composition teacher of Edgard Varèse, referred to as the "father-in-law of dissonance"; Stravinsky as the "caveman of music"; and Webern as the "Kafka of modern music."
The Lexicon of Musical Invective is an anthology of articles dedicated to forty-three composers from the 19th and 20th centuries.
In the preface to the 2000 edition of the Lexicon, composer and musicologist Peter Schickele raises the question, âÂÂWhy begin with Beethoven?â After reviewing the authorâÂÂs arguments, he identifies two principal reasons.
Schickele also cites remarks by the musicologist H.C. Robbins Landon concerning the premiere of Haydn's Military Symphony. Landon characterized the work as fully integrated into the cultural context of its time, suggesting that audiences immediately understood and appreciated it. Schickele describes this claim as âÂÂprovocative,â noting that such instances are rare in music history. A similar view is expressed by Guy Sacre, who argues that âÂÂit is with Beethoven that the gap commonly observed between artist and audience begins."
Schickele further observes that, even among 19th-century composers, the absence of Franz Schubert from the targets of the LexiconâÂÂs critical excerpts is notable. He suggests that SchubertâÂÂs relative neglect by critics in New York and BostonâÂÂdescribed as âÂÂSlonimskyâÂÂs preferred hunting groundsâÂÂâÂÂmay explain this omission.
To preserve musical criticism in its original form, Nicolas Slonimsky adopted a system of âÂÂreading keysâ rather than thematic classification. This method has been echoed by other musicologists seeking to identify recurring patterns in critical discourse. For example, the French musicologist Henry-Louis de La Grange, a renowned French specialist in the field of Mahler compiled a list of the most frequent criticisms directed at Hector Berlioz in contemporary press coverage.[2] He noted recurring themes, including:
According to La Grange, similar accusations were later directed at Gustav Mahler, with the exception of technical inadequacy. In MahlerâÂÂs case, critics instead alleged an excess of technique, interpreted as virtuosity masking a lack of inspiration.
The Lexicon of Musical Invective synthesizes such examples to examine the relationship between composers and critics, drawing on historical reception studies of individual figures. Slonimsky also identifies an earlier precedent in an 1877 compilation by Wilhelm Tappert, editor of the Allgemeine deutsche Musikzeitung. This work, Ein Wagner-Lexicon, Wörterbuch der Unhöflichkeit, collected anti-Wagnerian commentary and is described by Slonimsky as the first lexicon of musical invective limited to criticism of Richard Wagner. The volume assembled derogatory expressions used by WagnerâÂÂs detractors against both the composer and his supporters, presenting them in a structured format intended for reference and, at times, amusement.
According to the critiques featured in the Lexicon of Musical Invective, Johannes Brahms is crowned with the title of "impotence":
The author of the German Requiem is not an isolated case; this shortcoming frequently stems from a lack of knowledge regarding compositional guidelines. In this regard, Mussorgsky serves as a prime example of the "musician without musical education:"
Conversely, a renowned composition teacher like Vincent d'Indy can see his credentials revoked:
Even "good students" are not immune to criticism, suggesting that they have absorbed the pedagogical practices of their "bad teachers:"
In many cases, the music critic no longer merely listens but diagnoses a piece presented in concert, offering a genuine prognosis to warn listeners of a disease that might become contagious:
In instances where a particular affliction appears to be incurable, the Lexicon features an entry under "Bedlam," an appellation derived from the renowned psychiatric hospital in London, among other terms employed to characterize the madness of composers:
In the final analysis, critics concede the authority of specialists. In his November 29, 1935 review for The New York Times, Olin Downes notes that Berg's Lulu, with its "thefts, suicides, murders, and a penchant for morbid eroticism," suggests a potentially fruitful subject for study for a "musical Freud or Krafft-Ebing."
The association of a dissonant key, such as a distant key from C major or a nonchord tone, with a form of "musical spice" is a common trope in musicology. The Lexicon employs culinary comparisons as entries, offering a unique approach to musical analysis: Under "Cayenne Pepper":
In a concert review from Cincinnati, May 18, 1880, Wagner's music is described as "more indigestible than a lobster salad." Nikolaï Soloviev finds Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 a failure, likening it to "the first pancake flipped in the pan." Paul Rosenfeld compares Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2 to "a funeral feast of honey and jams." After hearing Ionisation at the Hollywood Bowl, conducted by Nicolas Slonimsky, a future musicologist receives the following note:
The Lexicon also includes references to strong drinks, or "indigestible digestives":
Within the domain of sound, parallels between instrumental sonorities and animal cries are frequently drawn by critics, showcasing a remarkable array of zoological references. For instance, in 1948, Nicolas Slonimsky's featured a section dedicated to the "Carnival of Animals," which was not related to Saint-Saëns's composition. Conversely, Prokofiev is often referred to as "the ugly duckling of Russian music." Liszt's Mephisto Waltz No. 1 has been likened to "wild boar music," while Bartók's Fourth String Quartet evokes the "alarm cry of a hen frightened by a Scottish terrier." Strauss' Elektra, on the other hand, features "the squeaking of rats, the grunting of pigs, the mooing of cows, the meowing of cats, and the roaring of wild animals." Finally, Webern's Five Orchestral Pieces are reminiscent of "insect activity."
The Lexicon comprises entries under the category of "Cat Music" for compositions by renowned composers such as Wagner, Schoenberg, and Varèse, among other expressions associated with feline cries, movements, and habits.
Thorough integration of musical composition with the vocalizations of animals is exemplified in this analysis of the inaugural performance of Hyperprism:
In some instances, metaphors of taste, animality, or excess proved insufficient for critics, who instead framed modern music in terms of moral deviance or social danger. As Nicolas Slonimsky observed, conservative critics often associated musical modernism with broader anxieties about moral decline and transgressive behavior.
Operatic subjects were particularly susceptible to such interpretations. Giuseppe VerdiâÂÂs, La Traviata was described in 1856 by The Times as an âÂÂapology for prostitution," while Carmen was criticized for its depiction of socially marginal characters. Similarly, Richard WagnerâÂÂs Tristan und Isolde and Die Walküre were denounced in the French press for their portrayal of erotic and incestuous themes, which some critics considered morally objectionable.
Certain attacks focus more on the musical content than the subject matter:
Nicolas Slonimsky also draws attention to a less conventional form of criticism: the use of verse to express musical judgment. In several cases, critics composed reviews in poetic form, combining satire with aesthetic evaluation. For example, Louis Elson reviewed a performance of Mahler's Symphony No. 5 in Boston on February 28, 1914, with A Modern Symphony in five sextains:
Major newspapers have been known to publish negative and anonymous opinions in their original form. For example, Strauss' Elektra inspired a commentary in six quatrains in 1910:
The reference to the opera Il Trovatore prompts the Lexicon author to recall that the English poet Robert Browning harbored an aversion to Verdi's music:
The tradition of "musical invective in verse" saw its beginnings in 18th-century France and subsequently evolved into an Anglo-Saxon practice in the 20th century, even finding application in educational settings. In these contexts, "musicological poems" emerged as mnemonic tools for students. In 1948, Slonimsky's dedicated a section to these exercises, aptly titled "in verse and worse." He further cited the poem by Erik Satie, renowned for its good-natured and clever jesting, as an exemplar of British humor. The poem's initial two lines have gained considerable renown:
The Lexicon of Musical Invective is not merely a compilation of negative reviews, but an illustration of Nicolas Slonimsky's central thesis: the âÂÂnon-acceptance of the unusualâ in music. According to Slonimsky, critics across different periods and stylistic contexts repeatedly employed similar arguments, often with little variation over more than a century.
In a deliberately scholarly gesture, Slonimsky formulates several of these recurring arguments in Latin:
A decade apart, critic employed nearly identical terms to condemn the works of both Berlioz and Wagner:
Beyond what may connect or distinguish two composers, there is more than coincidence here. Virtually all great creators of the 19th century were accused of sacrificing melody:
Slonimsky also notes striking similarities in satirical responses to different generations of composers. He compares two anonymous poems published approximately forty years apart: one criticizing concerts of Wagner's overtures, the other targeting Igor StravinskyâÂÂs The Rite of Spring. Despite their different contexts, both poems employ nearly identical imagery and sound patterns to mock what they describe as chaotic orchestration and excessive dissonance.
From this, Slonimsky concludes that critical hostility toward innovation often follows predictable rhetorical patterns. The near-identical language used against Wagner and later against Stravinsky suggests that what is initially rejected as incomprehensible or excessive may, over time, become accepted or even canonical, while similar criticisms are redirected at newer musical developments.
The Lexicon of Musical Invective highlights the persistent difficulty critics have faced in interpreting complex or unconventional music. As intermediaries between composer and audience, critics often express their inability to understand a work rather than providing insight. This tendency is reflected in the Enigma entry of the Lexicon:
Even when comprehension proves elusive, critics attempted to decode the perceived enigma of music, revealing recurring patterns in 19th- and 20th-century criticism.
Nicolas Slonimsky observes that many professional critics demonstrate limited familiarity with mathematics. Consequently, when faced with intricate compositional techniques, they often equate musical complexity with advanced or abstract mathematical processes. The Lexicon includes entries such as âÂÂAlgebra (in a pejorative sense)â and âÂÂMathematics (in a pejorative sense),â reflecting this tendency. Examples include:
Critics extended these mathematical metaphors to categorize composers by their perceived compositional rigor or abstraction: âÂÂarithmetic musicâ for dâÂÂIndy, "trigonometric music" by Brahms, and "geometric music" by Schönberg.
The Lexicon of Musical Invective highlights that critical incomprehension often stems not only from complex compositional techniques but also from the perceived obscurity of musical âÂÂlanguage.â Critics frequently equated unfamiliar music with foreign or constructed languages, emphasizing their inability to interpret the work.
For example, a 1935 review of a Arnold Schönberg concert described the experience as âÂÂa lecture on the fourth dimension delivered in Chinese.â Slonimsky notes that Chinese, however, was sometimes deemed insufficiently abstruse: critics invoked constructed languages such as Volapük or Esperanto to convey extreme incomprehensibility:
Slonimsky documents a recurring theme in critical invective: the question of whether certain works can even be classified as music. Critics often employed this argument when confronted with highly unconventional or modernist compositions:
Other critics extended the critique of âÂÂnon-musicâ to composers such as Franz Liszt and Max Reger:
The American critic Olin Downes coined the term âÂÂersatz musicâ to categorize compositions perceived as artificial or vacuous:
In the Lexicon of Musical Invective, Nicolas Slonimsky highlights the ways in which critics characterize musical excess, often using literary allusions to dramatize their disapproval. Anglophone critics frequently invoked a Shakespearean expression from Hamlet (Act III, Scene ii), âÂÂit out-herods Herod,â to describe composers whose perceived theatricality or exaggeration exceeded precedent.
Thus, "in La Mer, Debussy out-Richards Strauss," as "Strauss' music, full of diabolically clever effects, over-Berliozes Berlioz' music" â and so on, since Sibelius' Symphony No. 4 is "more Debussy than the worst moments of Debussy"...
Critics with literary sensibilities often invoked ShakespeareâÂÂs Macbeth (Act V, Scene v) to frame modern music as excessive yet vacuous:
This phrase, âÂÂsound and fury,â later inspiring William FaulknerâÂÂs novel of the same title, was used explicitly in musical criticism to describe overwhelming orchestration or overblown effects. Two near-simultaneous examples from Boston and New York in February 1896 applied it to Richard Strauss' Till Eulenspiegel symphonic poem:
Slonimsky observes a historical pattern in the perception of musical loudness and intensity: âÂÂA young music always seems louder to old ears. Beethoven was noisier than Mozart; Liszt louder than Beethoven; Strauss louder than Liszt; Schönberg and Stravinsky louder than all their predecessors combined."
While the majority of invective targets excessive musical elaboration, critics occasionally noted the opposite: insufficient material extended across excessive duration. Gustav MahlerâÂÂs works were singled out for this duality:
At the opposite end of the spectrum from musical excess lies an equally vexing phenomenon for critics: compositions so subtle or restrained that they challenge the listenerâÂÂs perception, creating a sense of hollowness or vertigo. Nicolas SlonimskyâÂÂs Lexicon of Musical Invective catalogs such reactions under entries like âÂÂlilliputian art,â often applied to Claude Debussy and Anton Webern:
From a historical and musicological standpoint, the Lexicon is bound to include the "calls to posterity" articulated by music critics during the 19th and 20th centuries:
Concerns regarding the future trajectory of music and its present state of development are the following:
The Lexicon of Musical Invective is notable not only as a repository of historical criticism but also as a work of wit and subtle humor. Peter Schickele describes it as âÂÂprobably the most amusing reference work ever assembledâ in classical musicology, highlighting two interrelated aspects of its appeal:
Schickele emphasizes that SlonimskyâÂÂs collection should be approached with caution: âÂÂDo not swallow all at once; take with a grain of salt." The LexiconâÂÂs entries demonstrate criticsâ ingenuity in coining inventive, sometimes hyperbolic figures of speech, capable of demolishing composersâ reputations while revealing broader anxieties about new music.
In 2022, an American musicologist reflected on historical music criticism, describing a sense of "revulsion toward our musical past" in response to what were considered overtly racist and sexist critiques compiled in the Lexicon of Musical Invective. The musicologist also noted the humor found in the exaggerated and insulting language used to describe musicians and their works, raising the question of the relationship between music and insult and the extent to which criticism could go.
Nicolas Slonimsky observed a marked absence of moderation in many 19th- and early 20th-century music critics, contrasting them with contemporary reviewers who, while often critical of a work, generally refrained from personal attacks on composers. In some historical cases, critics associated composers with racial or ethnic stereotypes. For example, in 1903, James Gibbons Huneker compared Claude Debussy to a gypsy, a Croat, a Hun, a Mongol, and a Borneo monkey.
The phenomenon of assimilating a composer with their music has long been recognized in musicology. In certain instances, this extended beyond aesthetic judgment to encompass cultural or social prejudices. During World War I, an American critic described Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 8 as "rough and irreverent, dry, Teutonic," while a German critic in 1909 dismissed MahlerâÂÂs music as "repellent because itâÂÂs Jewish,"[L 2] illustrating the intersection of musical and ethnic bias.
Richard Wagner is often cited as an early proponent of musical anti-Semitism, a term used to describe criticism or denigration of Jewish composers and cultural contributions within music. WagnerâÂÂs 1869 essay Das Judenthum in der Musik ("Judaism in Music") exemplifies this tendency, with critiques directed at composers such as Giacomo Meyerbeer and Felix Mendelssohn.[3] Similar attitudes persisted into the 20th century; for instance, the German musicologist Hans Joachim Moser contributed to the marginalization of Mendelssohn in German musical historiography during the 1920s.
In 1952, while working on the Lexicon of Musical Invective, Slonimsky was investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation for alleged "anti-American activities." Concurrently, his brother Mikhaïl Slonimsky, who remained in the USSR, was accused of "anti-communist activities." The investigations by the McCarthy Committee and the NKVD would persist until 1962, resulting in their rehabilitation in both cases.
Slonimsky was a vocal supporter of Jewish composers, including Arnold Schönberg, Darius Milhaud, and Ernest Bloch,[N 2] and was attentive to biased criticism directed against them. He had previously been targeted by Nazi German press and faced ridicule from musicians such as Serge Koussevitzky, who did not recognize SlonimskyâÂÂs own Russian-Jewish heritagehimself. The Lexicon contains examples of SlonimskyâÂÂs ironic humor, such as a reference to "Hitler (in a pejorative sense)" in an article on Wagner.
Even when favorably disposed toward a composer, critics occasionally used the composerâÂÂs work, persona, or name as a source of playful commentary. On October 27, 1897, the Musical Courier (New York) remarked of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov: "Rimski-Korsakov â now there's a name! It evokes fierce mustaches soaked in vodka!"
During the early 20th century, political ideologies increasingly influenced the reception of certain musical works. The National Socialist German Workers' Party (NSDAP), commonly known as the Nazi Party, explicitly associated modern compositions with political opposition, exemplified by a 1938 concert of what the Party labeled "degenerate music." Nicolas Slonimsky notes that such associations had precursors in earlier music criticism, citing the use of the term degenerate music in an anonymous editorial in Musical Courier as early as September 13, 1899.
The Lexicon provides several examples where music and political threats are closely linked:
Later examples include audience reactions to Edgard VarèseâÂÂs Déserts at the Théâtre des Champs-ÃÂlysées in 1954, when an attendee compared him to the French murderer Dominici.
Beyond Europe, jazz music was frequently criticized in politically charged terms: in 1938, the Archbishop of Dubuque described swing as "degenerate and demoralizing," while the Soviet Union banned jazz as "chaotic rhythmic organizations with deliberately and pathologically ignoble sounds." Maxime Gorky saw jazz as "capitalist perversion", and some American writers similarly associated it with spiritual or moral corruption. Conversely, the composer Cyril Scott described jazz as "the work of Satan, the work of the forces of Darkness."
Historical commentary on dance and popular music also reflected broader social concerns. Slonimsky cited early criticism of the waltz, noting that some commentators viewed the dance as excessively provocative and inappropriate for young women, as reflected in a description in the Cyclopaedia of Rees.
In the "Prelude" of the Lexicon, Nicolas Slonimsky cites a letter from Debussy to Varèse dated February 12, 1911, containing "relevant and profound remarks" on music criticism:
The author also highlights Schönberg's response to the countless criticisms he faced:
Among the composers closely associated with Slonimsky, Schönberg was known to be particularly critical of his detractors, while Stravinsky's criticism was often severe, even towards his supporters. Charles Ives, a renowned composer and critic, believed that criticism serves as a testament to human intelligence. Edgard Varèse exhibited an even more pronounced "American" attitude in his interviews with , broadcast from March 5 to April 30, 1955, and published in 1970, characterized by a less spontaneous presentation than in person:
Guy Sacre notes that Beethoven's music was initially deemed "incomprehensible," a word frequently used in critiques of the time. In his analysis, Peter Schickele addresses the limitations of some theses presented by Nicolas Slonimsky on this matter: a superficial reading of the Lexicon of Musical Invective might overlook that "Beethoven, while being one of the most iconoclastic composers of all time, was held in such high esteem that members of the Austrian aristocracy spontaneously started a subscription to raise funds for him when it was time for him to leave Vienna, or the fact that nearly twenty thousand people attended his funeral." Likewise, The Rite of Spring is "the only work by a living composerâÂÂand indeed, the only composition from the 20th centuryâÂÂadapted for cinema in Fantasia by Walt Disney, one of the most popular producers in the entire entertainment industry."
According to Peter Schickele, a renowned authority in the field, the Lexicon<nowiki/>'s most significant merits lie in its ability to serve as an antidote to the idolization of the great masters. This reverent and prostrate adoration, Schickele contends, is akin to the reverence bestowed upon the masterpieces of classical music, as if they were engraved on the sides of Mount Sinai and immediately accepted as having the force of law.
In a letter written from Berlin, published on November 8, 1843, and included in the "First Journey to Germany" of his Memoirs, Berlioz reports on the true "cult" of Bach's music in Berlin and Leipzig:
In an interview with on January 18, 1911, Debussy articulated a similar sense of autonomy:
Since "waste exists in all creators, even Mozart, even Bach," Antoine Goléa is not surprised that "it also exists among the 'greats' of Romanticism, but they all have the excuse of having sought, of having advanced, which made their mistakes fatal" and justifies the choice made by Nicolas Slonimsky to start the Lexicon of Musical Invective with the .
According to Roger Delage, a specialist in Emmanuel Chabrier's music, "a superficial mind might be surprised that the same man who had sobbed in Munich upon hearing the cellos play the A of the prelude to Tristan composed shortly after the irreverent Souvenirs de Munich, a fantasia in the form of a quadrille on themes from Tristan und Isolde," for four hands piano. This would forget, as Marcel Proust would say, that "if we seek what true greatness impresses upon us, it is too vague to say that it is respect, and it is actually more of a kind of familiarity. We feel our soul, what is best and most sympathetic in us, in them, and we mock them as we mock ourselves."
Exactly contemporaneously, and from a composer embodying "supreme distinction" alongside the "riotous humor" of Chabrier, Gabriel Fauré declared himself "müde [tired] of admiration" before Wagner's Die Meistersinger and "saddened by the weakness of Tannhäuser." According to Jean-Michel Nectoux, "his admiration remains lucid and measured," which he expresses in his , "a fantasia in the form of a quadrille on favorite themes from Wagner's Tetralogy," composed for four hands piano in collaboration with André Messager.
Gustave Samazeuilh reminds those who may doubt that these two satirical quadrilles, "of the most amusing fantasy," were the "delight" of Wagnerians themselves "in the heroic days of Wagnerism"âÂÂto the point of having piano transcriptions created.
Two admirers of Chabrier, Erik Satie and Maurice Ravel, pay him homage in a roundabout way. Vladimir Jankélévitch recommends reading with attention "the harmless parody that Ravel, in 1913, wrote ." Satie even made a specialty of "parodies and caricatures of an author or a work." To illustrate this practice is the reuse of the piece España in the 1913 work Croquis et Agaceries d'un gros bonhomme en bois by Chabrier.
Musical parodies typically target famous works: Faust by Gounod, parodied "in the second degree" by RavelâÂÂàla manière d'Emmanuel Chabrier presenting itself as a paraphrase on the tune "Faites-lui mes aveux" from Act 3âÂÂis also ridiculed by Debussy in La Boîte àjoujoux, and HoneggerâÂÂthe funeral march from Les Mariés de la tour Eiffel reuses Gounod's "Waltz."
In certain instances, a composer has been known to direct criticism at both the work and the person of his fellow composer. For example, the Danish composer Rued Langgaard composed a posthumous "sarcastic and desperate" tribute to his compatriot Carl Nielsen in 1948. This piece, titled Carl Nielsen, our great composer, is a thirty-two-bar piece for choir and orchestra, where the text is just the title repeated da capo ad infinitum. In that same year, Langgaard composed a similar piece titled Res Absurda!?, which expresses his dismay as a post-romantic and marginalized musician before the "absurdity" of twentieth-century modern music. Nicolas Slonimsky cites the Ode to Discord by Irish composer Charles Villiers Stanford, which was premiered on June 9, 1909, as an example of a work that critiques, through parody, the modernist trends of his contemporaries in general.
The author of the Lexicon and his commentator, Peter Schickele, shared this sense of ironic musical homage, offering subtle parodies of Wagner's worksâÂÂsuch as Le dernier tango àBayreuth, for bassoon quartet, where the "Tristan chord" is interpreted in a tango rhythmâÂÂand especially of Bach. Nicolas Slonimsky dedicates two of his Minitudes to reinterpretations based on the fugue in C minor BWV 847 from The Well-Tempered Clavier: No. 47, "Bach in fluid tonality," subjecting the fugue subject to modulations in every measure; and No. 48, "Bach times 2 equals Debussy," altering all intervals to eliminate semitones and result in a piece in a whole-tone scale. Moreover, Peter Schickele ascribes to an imaginary son of the Cantor of Leipzig an extensive repertoire of ingenious compositions, including Short-tempered Clavier and a Two-part Contraption, drawing parallels to Bach's Two-Part Inventions BWV 772âÂÂ786.
Among the French musicians cited in the Lexicon, Hector Berlioz was the first to wield the pen of a music critic alongside that of a composer, a situation he saw as a "fate" in his Mémoires, which Gérard Condé invites us to view not "in a negative light but as a natural consequence, a double-edged result, of his literary education." The author never asserts himself more than "half as a composer," and if it is clear, in hindsight, that he never stopped pleading his own cause, it was like the wolf in La Fontaine's fable, dressed in the shepherd's habit, having to fight "against his readers, these dilettantes whom he put on trial, and these Mr. Prudhommes for whom music is just a noise more expensive than others."
A selection of the author's articles were published in two volumes: (1859) and (1862). In the former, Berlioz presents his readers with his conception of "a model critic:"
Nicolas Slonimsky has documented the incident in which Leonid Sabaneïev published a scathing review of Prokofiev's Scythian Suite in 1916, despite being unaware that the piece had been removed from the concert program at the last minute. This oversight led to Sabaneïev's resignation, which he refused to apologize for. Notably, Berlioz makes a veiled reference to the critic Paul Scudo, characterizing him as "a Jupiter of criticism" and "an illustrious and conscientious Aristarchus." This reference was met with such enthusiasm that Scudo became the sole critic to condemn in a press that was largely favorable to the work.
At the dawn of the 20th century, a notable shift occurred in the professional landscape of composers, as Claude Debussy, Paul Dukas, and Florent Schmitt began to assume the dual roles of composer and critic. This development stands in contrast to the more amiable demeanor exhibited by Berlioz, who, according to Suzanne Demarquez, was "quite a good fellow to his colleagues." In contrast, Debussy was renowned for his "sharp tongue as well as a sharp pen" in his critiques.The competitive dynamic between Debussy and Ravel gave rise to caustic phrases that evoke Berlioz's own contentious relationship with Wagner. However, Debussy's assessment of the Valses nobles et sentimentales, Berlioz's perspective on the Tristan und Isolde overture, and the numerous critiques exchanged between composers, as cited in the Lexicon, are characterized by as exemplifying "musician's analysis, knowing what he is talking about." The evaluation of these works is clearly subjective and subject to individual preference.
Accordingly, Florent Schmitt's assessment, esteemed by Slonimsky as a "prominent French composer" yet a discerning critic, holds particular significance when he offers his perspective on Hindemith's Concerto for Orchestra on October 30, 1930:
The dual role of composer and critic invariably entails "risks," as critics consistently seek opportunities for retribution. A notable example is Mercure de France<nowiki/>'s censure of Dukas' Symphony in C Major, which he critiqued as a "product of critique." It is akin to a protracted treatise that the critic has imposed upon himself, thereby demonstrating to the musicians whose compositions he evaluates that, in his capacity as a critic, he is not reticent to exhibit his own capabilities."
Composer Charles Koechlin, who often warned his students against "the backbiting that is common at the Conservatoire and the snobbery that characterizes certain musical groups today," readily adopts the terms used by Debussy in his first critical article:
In their conclusion, Gilles Macassar and Bernard Mérigaud cite the renowned composer Maurice Ravel's sentiment that "A critique, even insightful, is of lesser necessity than a production, no matter how mediocre." This assertion serves to underscore the notion that music criticism, even when it is of a discerning and insightful nature, is secondary to the creation of a musical work, irrespective of its quality.
It is an uncommon occurrence for a professional critic to attack one of their colleagues, despite the fact that they utilize the same terminology to denigrate composers whose musical works they find unsatisfactory. For instance, Olin Downes, esteemed as the "apostle of Sibelius" in the United States, characterizes the music of Schönberg and Stravinsky as ersatz. Conversely, Antoine Goléa reduces Sibelius to an "ersatz, both of Mendelssohn and of Bruckner."
In light of these cross judgments of Sibelius, Alex Ross proposes that Nicolas Slonimsky should have supplemented his Lexicon of Musical Invective with a Lexicon of Musical Condescension, which would have comprised articles and essays of superior intellect in which masterpieces of the contemporary repertoire would be dismissed as kitsch.
Professional musicologists rarely criticize their colleaguesâÂÂat least in their articles: a perceptive and mocking author like Paul Léautaud recounts the following anecdote in Passe-temps:
In order to undertake a critique of music criticism, it was necessary to possess the talents of a writer and journalistâÂÂor, more aptly, a polemicistâÂÂin addition to a certain degree of open-mindedness and "exceptional emotional capacity," qualities that could be found in the works of Octave Mirbeau. Mirbeau, a literary and art critic who infrequently reviewed concerts, vehemently criticized composers he regarded as "blinkered," such as Saint-Saëns, Gounod, and Massenet, while concurrently defending composers who had been overlooked by their contemporaries, including Franck and Debussy. His criticism of critics and musicologists of his era was unabashed, and his columns frequently provoked controversy in the press and public opinion.
In "What One Writes" (Le Journal, January 17, 1897), the author of The Diary of a Chambermaid reverses the roles and takes the place of the critics addressing him:
In this final point, Peter Schickele raises an objection, considering that in reading the Lexicon, "the lowest amusementâÂÂdelightful, no doubt, but definitely lowâÂÂlies in rejoicing with ill spirit over an unfulfilled prophecy: how stupid must one have been to think that Rigoletto had practically no chance of staying in the repertoire?" He further casts new light on this impossible role:
In his analysis of the Lexicon of Musical Invective, Jacques Barzun considers this misunderstanding of music criticism as "inevitable. We will fall back into this trap when a truly new music imposes itself on our ears. The only way to escape it would be to renounce criticism altogether."
The book immediately found success in the United States, where it was considered "a humorous classic of anecdotal literature in classical music." Despite its "remarkable influence on the musical world, beyond insult," Nicolas Slonimsky became "the author of the Lexicon of Musical Invective," to the point of considering naming his autobiography Muses and Lexicons. In this text, finally titled Perfect Pitch (referring to perfect pitch), he thus testifies:
The public's apparent insensitivity regarding the Lexicon of Musical Invective<nowiki/>'s end date offers insight into the decision to publish it. Initially, the book's publication date was believed to be the basis for determining the end date. However, for the 1965 reissue, Nicolas Slonimsky merely added a select number of articles on composers who were already featured. However, Peter Schickele contends that, "in retrospect, this date emerges as eminently suitable: a mere few years later, in the midst of the 20th century, the era of prominent and renowned classical music composers reached its culmination."
For contemporary composers, reading the book is of unexpected value. In his autobiography, John Adams states, "Blessed be Nicolas Slonimsky for having cataloged the violent reactions from the public or critics attacking one great master after another, in his amusing Lexicon of Musical Invective, so deeply consoling for composers!"
In 2023, American musicologist Richard Taruskin still considers the Lexicon a "great classic," and "the heaviest, most concentrated preemptive guilt-trip ever administered to immunize the new from hostile critique"
Robin Wallace further clarifies the book's influence in concert settings, particularly in radio: "It has become a technique for concert program presenters to cite past unfavorable reviews of recognized masterpieces, to show the current public how much our understanding of music has evolved."
Peter Schickele ultimately discerns that such egregious misjudgments are not confined to classical music. He cites an English record label producer who had initially declined to listen to four emerging musicians named The Beatles, reasoning that "groups are out."
In his Prelude to the Lexicon, Nicolas Slonimsky puts forth a proposal, grounded in his personal experience as a conductor and musicologist, to assess the time required for "acceptance by the public and critics of music unfamiliar to them":
The career of The Rite of Spring offers a compelling illustration of the law of a forty-year lag. Citing the testimony of conductor Pierre Monteux following a resounding performance of Stravinsky's work in Paris on May 8, 1952, which marked thirty-nine years since its 1913 premiere, also conducted by Monteux, the author provides a noteworthy example of this phenomenon. The audience's response, as reported, is said to have equaled the level of enthusiasm of the previous performance, yet it was characterized by a significantly different tone.
This open question regarding the time required for a radically new "classical" music masterpiece to be properly appreciated is referred to among English-speaking musicologists as the "Slonimsky Conjecture." Some contend that Slonimsky's proposal "is not a conjecture; it is History." Guy Sacre cites Beethoven's remark about musical audiences: "They will like it one day." This remark, made in a casual and seemingly dismissive tone, has gained significant recognition.
Peter Schickele further explores this concept, noting that a lack of familiarity with a musical composition is not the sole factor contributing to its disfavor. In fact, the reverse scenario is equally probable, and it may even be more prevalent. Consequently, he posits that a melody that persists in the mind, akin to Strangers in the Night (a personal point of irritation), can be just as exasperating as a concert replete with dissonant harmonies.
In the case of composers whose works are frequently performed, unfavorable opinions from established critics or knowledgeable music enthusiasts can be explained as a form of "revolt against habit." Peter Schickele humorously refers to the Bruckner Expressway in the South Bronx, New York, which is supposedly named after Anton Bruckner because it is "long, boring, and leads nowhere." This represents a "lack of appreciation that survives familiarity."
The problem posed by Slonimsky and Schickele is thus as follows: can the work of a "classical" composer still provoke surprise to the extent of drawing the ire of music criticsâÂÂfulfilling Debussy's wish when he stated, "Indeed, on the distant dayâÂÂhopefully as late as possibleâÂÂwhen I no longer provoke controversy, I will deeply regret it?" Antoine Goléa responds affirmatively and in detail to this question in 1977, focusing on one of the oldest composers mentioned in the Lexicon, right after Beethoven:
In the United States and the English-speaking world, the Lexicon of Musical Invective is regarded as a foundational work in the field, with a long history of study, citation, and commentary. A recent compilation of musicological research texts (Sourcebook for Research in Music, published in 2005) even assigns it a special place within its reference system. A literary analysis of Thomas Mann's Doctor Faustus elucidates the artistic isolation of the protagonist composer, Adrian Leverkühn, drawing upon arguments presented by Nicolas Slonimsky.
The recognition Nicolas Slonimsky received was significant, as evidenced by the praise he received from Eric Blom in the preface to the 1954 edition of the Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians. This recognition enabled him to secure the position of editor-in-chief of Baker's Biographical Dictionary of Musicians, a role that involved revising the biographical entries in a new edition published in 1958.
In the domain of classical music, Henry Cowell incorporated two poems cited in the LexiconâÂÂone that criticized Wagner and the other that criticized StravinskyâÂÂinto musical compositions "with a fitting sense of parody."
The theories presented in the book are now being applied to the realm of popular music, including pop and rock. In 2013, in a work titled Bad Music: The Music We Love to Hate, Simon Frith pays tribute to the "everlasting appeal" of the Lexicon of Musical Invective. Following this model, the British critic compares the scandal caused by Bob Dylan's concert at the Free Trade Hall in Manchester to that of The Rite of SpringâÂÂdescribing it as "the angriest audience in the entire history of rock" in 1966. He also references compilations of the Worst Records Ever Made, whose selection criteria mirror the criticisms analyzed by Nicolas Slonimsky.
In a manner similar to Peter Schickele, Frith also examines the phenomenon of overplayed songs, such as "summer hits" and Christmas albums, as well as opportunistic releases, including albums produced in the aftermath of significant events, such as the 9/11 attacks. According to musicologists, the late 20th century was characterized by an accentuated distinction between the roles of critics and producers in the highly competitive domain of pop culture and television.
In order to "preserve the documentary value of the cited articles," the Lexicon of Musical Invective is written in English. "Reviews written in French and German are presented in their original form, followed by an English translation." However, Russian documents are quoted directly in English in the work, without the original texts in Cyrillic.
The Argentine poet and musician provided a Spanish translation, published in 2016 under the title Repertorio de vituperios musicales.
In that same year, a German anthology was published. Titled Verdikte über Musik 1950âÂÂ2000 ("Verdicts on Music from 1950 to 2000"), the structure of this anthology was inspired by Nicolas Slonimsky's work. In fact, it adopted a similar format with an "index of verdicts" organized by keywords. The temporal parameters delineated in the title imply that the selected critiques focus on musicians of a more recent era than those encompassed within the Lexicon. This encompasses classical influences such as Beat Furrer, jazz figures like Oscar Peterson, electroacoustic composers like Dieter Kaufmann, pop artists like Tom Jones, and hard rock performers like Alice Cooper.
In 1961, Marc Pincherle recommended to music critics the "fully prepared, brand-new arsenal made available" by the Lexicon of Musical Invective, a compendium of critical writings on music compiled by Nicolas Slonimsky. This recommendation was made in a monograph dedicated to Berlioz that was published in 1968 by composer and musicologist Claude Ballif. In this monograph, Ballif addressed the Lexicon to "those interested in this kind of literature." In 1987, characterized the Lexicon as an "excellent but harsh workâÂÂharsh for critics" in an article on "Debussy and the feeling of Le Mer."
In 2006, the Lexicon of Musical Invective was consulted as a reference in a more extensive analysis of the techniques of invective.
The (Dictionary of Stupidity and Errors of Judgment) by and Jean-Claude Carrière, published in 1965, drew heavily from the Lexicon for examples of "errors of judgment" in the field of classical musicâÂÂeither by reproducing the same articles published in the press or by directly citing it as a reference work. Unlike Nicolas Slonimsky, however, the authors prefaced each critique with a few words of commentary, highlighting certain keys to interpreting the Lexicon: BeethovenâÂÂs music is "a real zoo," Berlioz "lacks technique," Brahms "chose the wrong professionâÂÂhe should have been a mathematician." Debussy is "subtle, but quite unpleasant," and Liszt is "despised in major capitals... and in the provinces." Although they trace criticism back to Mozart, their approach is similar to that of Nicolas Slonimsky: "For too long, we have been presented with all kinds of beauties while simultaneously being denied the best means to appreciate them."