One would expect remarkable insights from an exchange such as this between a sophisticated intellectual and an aspiring conductor. But their conversation never got off the ground: the radical theorist and the artistically open-minded musician failed to come to terms. This makes their exchange not in the least uninteresting. It follows two different characters and outlooks in their ups and downs over one and a half decades, and it covers a wide range of topics. However, it all stems from a small number of fundamental principles that form a constant background to the unfolding of ideas.

These principles are visible even in the earliest documents. When they first met, Furtwängler was already aware of Schenker’s writings. Yet he was not prepared to fully subscribe to their theoretical foundations and aesthetic consequences, as proven by their opposing estimation of Bruckner’s music. Schenker found Furtwängler’s conducting impressive in its craftsmanship and his “beautiful gesture,” but lacking musical insight. When Furtwängler declared himself willing “to serve a timely mission” and “to lead the youth of today,” Schenker drew the conclusion that he might teach him and thus provide the missing intellectual background. Their carefully worded letters aimed to please, but their different expectations were hard to overlook. Schenker’s pedagogical aim stood against Furtwängler’s approach to accept his analytical superiority without delving into the technical, aesthetic, and political implications of his musical world view. When Schenker sought an exponent for his ideas and a translator for the concert audience who subordinated himself to the theorist as he envisioned in his “Art of Performance,” Furtwängler rather enjoyed his company, his analytical coaching, and his broad intellectual outlook. However, he integrated Schenker’s findings into an eclectic aesthetics as opposed to their original conception.

Such issues remained virulent over the years. Not to speak of their ideas about Jewishness, including Furtwängler’s alleged anti-Semitism, or of Paul Bekker or contemporary culture, Schenker and Furtwängler never even agreed in their evaluation of Bruckner and Wagner. Their apparently firm common ground in Beethoven and Brahms proved slippery as well. Schenker’s accusations were severe; he claimed that Furtwängler “does not know sonata form at all,” that he had no knowledge of textual matters, that he replied “nonsense” when Schenker presented his analytical findings, that he was “far too ill-prepared” for serious discussion.