Michael Yafi
Chaden Yafi
Houston, Texas, United States

Immersed in the music, the young composer conducted the orchestra with such fervor that he scarcely noticed that more than half the audience had slipped away. When the symphony came to its final notes, instead of the applause he had hoped for, he was met with jeers and boos. Yet, in the face of such rejection, does the judgment of the crowd truly matter when one is composing for Eternity?

On the 200th anniversary of the birth of Anton Bruckner,¹ his extraordinary life continues to inspire. His unwavering faith sustained him through countless periods of failure, as well as through battles with health issues such as obsessive-compulsive disorder, anxiety, and depression.^2,3

Raised in poverty in the small village of Ansfelden in Upper Austria, his father, who was a schoolteacher, organist, and music instructor, died in 1837. Following his father’s death, Bruckner entered the music school at the Monastery of Saint Florian, where he studied organ, piano, violin, music theory, and sang in the choir. On graduation, he was appointed village teacher, a position that also required him to ring the town bell at 4 a.m. and assist with the harvest. His salary amounted to just one dollar a month—equivalent to $40 today.

In 1845, Bruckner was appointed to the faculty of music at Saint Florian, which allowed him to fully dedicate himself to his craft. He became a virtuoso on the church organ, spending years composing primarily for choir and orchestra.

In 1856, he was named the organist of the Linz Cathedral, a post he held for twelve years, further honing his musical skills.

However, in 1876, at the age of forty-three, Bruckner experienced a profound personal crisis. He fell in love with a seventeen-year-old girl, only to be rejected by her parents. This heartbreak, compounded by his relentless work schedule, led to a nervous breakdown. He was admitted to a sanitarium for several months to recover.

Though he eventually regained his health, Bruckner developed a peculiar obsession with numbers—a condition known as “numeromania.” He became compulsively fixated on counting everything he encountered: the windows of houses, leaves on trees, paving stones in the streets, the globes of cathedrals, and even the stars above. Some musicologists believe this obsession never fully left him, leaving traces in his work throughout his life. In his symphonic scores, Bruckner meticulously numbered each bar, also indicating the harmonic tendencies used after each staff, a reflection of his inner compulsions.⁴

Bruckner’s musical journey took a significant turn when he began studying Bach and polyphonic composition under Otto Kitzler, who was a decade younger.⁵ It was Kitzler who introduced Bruckner to the music of Richard Wagner, and from the very first note, Bruckner was captivated. Wagner’s music inspired Bruckner profoundly, sparking his creativity and driving him to compose symphonies. Even as he embraced Wagner’s influence, the sound of the organ—the instrument that remained closest to his heart—continued to resonate throughout his symphonies, particularly in structure and register.

In 1868, Bruckner accepted an offer to join the Vienna Conservatorium, but quickly found himself caught in the middle of a fierce musical rivalry between supporters of Wagner and fans of Brahms. In 1877, the Vienna Philharmonic reluctantly agreed to perform Bruckner’s Third Symphony, which he had dedicated to Wagner. The performance, however, was a disaster. The audience reacted poorly, and some orchestra members even left before the piece concluded.⁶ This kind of rejection was something Bruckner would endure repeatedly, each failure further undermining his already fragile confidence.

Johannes Brahms himself dismissed Bruckner’s symphonies as “a swindle that will be forgotten in a few years,” and referred to them as “greasy scraps from Wagner’s table.” Yet, amid the harsh critiques, another Viennese composer, Hugo Wolf, praised Bruckner’s work with impassioned words: “One cymbal clash by Bruckner is worth all four symphonies of Brahms, with all the serenades thrown in.”⁷

The prominent music critic Eduard Hanslick, who was Wagner’s bitter enemy, relentlessly attacked Bruckner’s music in his reviews for over a decade. Despite this onslaught, Bruckner never retaliated, continuing his work with quiet determination. At times, he even had to pay out of his own pocket to have his compositions performed.

Despite the accolades and successes that came later in his life, Bruckner’s confidence remained fragile, and he became plagued by a compulsion to constantly revise his symphonies, creating multiple versions of the same work. Musicologists refer to this as “the Bruckner Problem”—his inability to settle on a definitive version of his symphonies.

With his Seventh Symphony, Bruckner finally experienced success. Premiered in his lifetime, it was performed more than thirty-two times. This symphony represents Bruckner’s deeply personal response to the death of his friend and idol, Richard Wagner. The influence of Wagner, coupled with the shadow of his passing, formed the emotional core of the work.

Bruckner’s symphonies, often described as “wordless masses,”⁸ reflect his spiritual depth and reverence. In the adagio of the Seventh Symphony, Bruckner laments the loss of his friend and the inevitability of death, but his expression is not one of despair or self-pity. Instead, it conveys a sense of gratitude and acceptance—a positive, almost joyful attitude towards the finality of death.⁹

Bruckner’s dedication to his craft did not go unnoticed. Emperor Franz Joseph, recognizing his talents and struggles, offered him anything he desired. In a remarkable act of humility, Bruckner requested that the Emperor intervene to stop the relentless attacks of the critic Eduard Hanslick. In response, the Emperor invited Bruckner to live in a private room at Belvedere Palace, where he could immerse himself entirely in his music.

Bruckner’s life, however, was marked by a seemingly morbid fascination—his obsession with death and the physical remains of the deceased.¹⁰ He often attended funerals of strangers, drawn not by personal grief but by a desire to observe the rituals and the corpses themselves. In 1888, when the remains of Beethoven and Schubert were transferred to Vienna’s Central Cemetery, Bruckner was present at the event. It is said that he held and kissed Beethoven’s skull, a gesture that exemplified his great reverence for the composer.

Bruckner was a devout Catholic, and his interest in the remains of the deceased can be understood through the lens of Catholic tradition, which venerates the relics of saints as a connection to their holiness. In a similar way, Bruckner viewed Beethoven and Schubert as “musical saints,” and his actions reflected a deep, almost spiritual reverence for their legacies.

Bruckner’s fascination with death and his reverence for the deceased seemed to take on a more personal and existential dimension as he grappled with a deep fear related to his Ninth Symphony. He was acutely aware that the premiere of Beethoven’s Ninth had coincided with his own birthday, and this fact, coupled with the deaths of both Beethoven and Schubert shortly after completing their ninth symphonies, led Bruckner to develop what became known as the “ninth symphony curse.” This fear haunted him and would later influence one of his most talented students: Gustav Mahler, who also died after completing his own ninth symphony.

Despite his deep religious faith, Bruckner could not escape his anxiety over this curse. In fact, he initially left many of his symphonies unnumbered, consciously avoiding the dreaded Ninth. But when he eventually began working on his Ninth Symphony, his fear remained palpable. In an act of both defiance and devotion, Bruckner dedicated this monumental work to God, perhaps hoping that this sacred offering would somehow shield him from the fate he feared. The second movement, the scherzo, captures a haunting conversation between the composer and destiny itself, as if Bruckner were negotiating his survival through music.

Yet, despite his faith and his efforts, Bruckner did not live to complete the symphony. His health deteriorated due to diabetes and heart failure. He died in 1896, leaving the Ninth unfinished, just as Beethoven and Schubert had left theirs.

Bruckner’s life and music reflect the profound intersection of faith, duty, and creativity. In the biblical parable of the talents, a master entrusts his servants with wealth, expecting them to use it wisely. Those who invest their talents are rewarded, while the one who hides his gift out of fear is punished. For Bruckner, musical talent was a divine gift—imbued with responsibility. He viewed his artistry as both a blessing and a burden, compelled to honor God through it despite his struggles. This sense of duty drove him to persevere, seeing his music as a sacred obligation to serve a higher purpose, and considering himself the “composer of God.”

Bruckner’s unwavering commitment, despite rejection and personal challenges, exemplifies the struggle to fulfill one’s purpose. His symphonies, deeply spiritual and reflective, are offerings to the divine, conversations with destiny, and a testament to his faith. Even in his unfinished Ninth Symphony, Bruckner’s dedication remains clear—a reminder that true talent is not just a personal achievement, but a responsibility to share and invest in for a greater good.

References

1. Predota, Georg. “On This Day 11 October: Anton Bruckner Died.” Interlude, October 11, 2023. https://interlude.hk/on-this-day-11-october-anton-bruckner-died/
2. Service, Tom. “Sex, death and dissonance: the strange, obsessive world of Anton Bruckner.” The Guardian, April 1, 2024. https://www.theguardian.com/music/2014/apr/01/sex-death-dissonance-anton-bruckner-concertgebouw-orchestra
3. Trappe HJ. “Anton Bruckner: Linzer Domorganist, Hochschullehrer, Symphoniker: Hätte die moderne Intensivmedizin ihm und seinen Erkrankungen helfen können?” [“Anton Bruckner: the Linz cathedral organist, university teacher, symphonic musician: Could modern intensive care medicine have helped him and his illnesses?”]. Med Klin Intensivmed Notfmed. Oct 2024;119(7):587-593. German. doi: 10.1007/s00063-023-01083-y. Epub Nov 17, 2023. PMID: 37978071.
4. Deryck Cooke, “Anton Bruckner,” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians vol. 3, ed. Stanley Sadie. London, 1980, p. 3.
5. Nicholas, Jeremy. The Great Composers. Quercus, 2007, p. 137.
6. Ibid, p. 138.
7. Ibid, p. 136.
8. Pulbrook, Martin. “‘Death, Release and Resolve’: An Analysis of Anton Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony.” The Maynooth Review / Revieú Mhá Nuad 1983, vol. 9, p. 94
9. Ibid, p.103.
10. Predota, Georg. “The Morbid Compulsion of Anton Bruckner.” Interlude, August 11, 2014. https://interlude.hk/the-morbid-compulsion-of-anton-bruckner/