Translated by Professor Philip Ewell, Hunter College and CUNY Graduate Centre

The Scriabin Association is most grateful to its American sister organisation, the Scriabin Society of America, for permission to reprint this important article in the excellent translation of Professor Philip Ewell from the Journal of the Scriabin Society of America 11/1 (2006-7) p.12 –27. Space forbids the inclusion of Professor Ewell’s introduction and commentary from that source, but as Professor Ewell studied with Kholopov the present editor has summarised his notes on Kholopov’s career. The article itself first appeared in Uchënye Zapiski 1, Moscow, Kompozitor, 1993, a compilation from the Scriabin Memorial Museum, Moscow (then the State Memorial Museum of Scriabin), put together by Olga Tompakova (p. 25–38).

Yuri Kholopov (1932–2003) is not a familiar name to the non-specialist English-speaking reader. As student, analyst and professor he was a major figure at the Moscow Conservatory. His interests ran from mediaeval music to the Soviet avant-garde figures of the twentieth century and he devised many new methods of musical analysis, as well as writing major theoretical textbooks.

S.N. Coventry 2024

Scriabin and the Harmony of the 20th Century

By Yuri Kholopov

Translation

1. The era of Alexander Scriabin has long since passed us by: 105 years have passed since his first performance as a pianist in Moscow; it has been 95 years since his matriculation at the Moscow Conservatory; and 85 years have passed since the première of the Poem of Ecstasy, in New York. Scriabin represents the beginning of the century, and we are at its end.
2. The main focus of Scriabin’s artistic interest was harmony. Subsequent generations of composers have, at times, buried this subject: “Harmony as a science about chords and chord sequences has had a brilliant, but short history,” remarked Igor Stravinsky, for example. But from time to time a wave of interest in Scriabin and his harmony reappears anew here in Russia and abroad. Naturally, the late period evokes a burning interest, but the entire path of the composer is informative. In a certain sense his innovations ccupy a key position in 20th-century harmony. Scriabin belongs to the pioneers of “new harmony”-he opened the door leading to the new harmony of our century.
3. Many threads connect Scriabin with subsequent music: “a new sensation” (his favorite expression), and paths to a new paradigm and esthetic values; new compositional techniques, and artistic innovations; and the anticipation of historical paths of musical evolution, both in his own compositions (from a classical to a contemporary language), as well as in the compositions of others (that is, the general move toward the emancipation of dissonance, chromatic tonality, and a new harmonic functionality).
4. On the whole, Scriabin’s oeuvre, from Op. 1 to Op. 74, represents a path to new music that is rare in purity, clarity, and inexorable logic. This path shows how a new esthetic conception and a new paradigm lead directly and immediately to the transformation of the harmonic system, step by step, opus by opus. Accordingly, all compositions of the composer can be grouped into three periods:
   

a) Opuses 1-29 – early period – 1886-1901;

b) Opuses 30-57 – middle period – 1903-1908;

c) Opuses 58-74 – late period – 1910-1914.

(Curiously, between successive periods there are one-year breaks in compositional activity; the same type of break occurs after the third period as well.) In the first period the traditions of Chopin and Liszt are obvious; the second period begins implementation of a new conception; while the third is stunning in its musical novelty.

5. The direct effect of this esthetic, progressive, and vivid evolution on his harmonic system consists of a gradual departure from “songs of the earth,” that is, from traditional contrasts of happiness and sadness, from public celebrations with their accompanying dances, and from intellectual torment with its sensitive drama. The minor mode is banished from his music. Later on in life Scriabin himself said: “The minor mode should disappear from the music!… Because art should be a celebration! And a celebration cannot be in minor.” The minor mode is “tiresome whining,” and “based on undertones. It goes down, and is weighted down all the time. It is regression, the downfall into materialism.”¹ According to Scriabin, this “new sensation” emerges: light, illumination, audacious bursts, and the “dematerialization” of the spirit, soaring high into the air and outer space, a blinding flame of a universal cleansing fire, sounding light and illuminating sound, “such a light, resembling several suns suddenly shining!”²

6. Scriabin’s ideology persistently replaces traditional inertia. This evolution takes place in his middle period and, toward the late period, it completely illuminates the new global problem in 20th-century music, a problem of tonality. From Op. 30 to Op. 57, three processes that leave their mark on the evolution and the reorganization of Scriabin’s tonal system are in play:

a) Functional inversion;

b) Departure to the dominant; and

c) Transformation of the dominant to the basic stability, the tonic.

Functional inversion is a type of tonal tendency in late-romantic music in which the usual tonic keeps its formal supremacy, yet the center of artistic attention is displaced to other harmonies (as in the Prelude to Wagner’s Tristan). Scriabin’s Fourth Piano Sonata is an example of such a composition. At the beginning there is everything necessary for F# major, yet the tonic, in its pure form (that is, without dissonance), sounds only once on the lightest eighth note (in metrical measures of 12/8) [see the figure below trans. I. Then the tonality rises up by a fifth, and the dominant becomes the stability.

Figure: Scriabin’s Fourth Piano Sonata, beginning

7. Enigma, Op. 52, no. 2, is also such a composition in which the enigma, first and foremost, is a consequence of functional inversion: the tonic of D-flat major acquires the “status of an English queen”-she rules but does not govern. The dominant becomes the virtual focal point of harmonic activity; everything emanates from it, and everything returns to it. At the same time this virtual center of A-flat-7 is still not the tonic (herein lies the functional inversion); the essence of this music is on the sharp, sensual charm of languid yearning, without a relaxing resolution to the tonic, that is, a gravitation that cannot find an end (as Yavorsky claimed). This new distribution of functions gains further credence: that which, in reality, functions as a tonal center, as the actual tonic, at the same time becomes the nominal tonic. A new tonality arises with a new tonic (dissonant, audacious, ardent, and agitated), and a new functionality. Thus Scriabin formulates a new harmonic system that is already typical of the new music of the twentieth century. This system bears greater resemblance to Messiaen’s dissonant modality or to Schoenberg’s dodecaphony than to Scriabin’s own opuses 5, 8, or 11.

8. Neotonality is not the same as old tonality but, rather, is a different subject that uses the same root word. Accordingly, the new tonic is also a subject with different properties from the classical tonic. If a dominant-formed sonority completely loses its gravitation, it ceases to be a dominant, though it still has a striving and strained character. In Varvara Dernova’s writings, rich in thought and analysis, this moment is interpreted mechanically, such that it is impossible to agree with it, in late Scriabin there are no derived dominants “Da” and “Db,” but derived tonics “Ta” and “Tb” (if in the duplex mode), or “Ta, Tb, Tc, and Td” (if in the octatonic mode), or “Ta, Tb, and Tc” (if in the hexatonic mode³).” In the spirit of Yavorsky’s theories, in place of the inappropriate designations F# major and A major, it is necessary to use more appropriate signs: Fidim and Adim (octatonic) and Amax (hexatonic), for example. And in similar situations with the duplex-modal tritone of the fundamental bass, the basic tonic double is witnessed.

9. It is curious that Scriabin himself-in oral statements, in statements by musicologists (confirmed by Scriabin), and in his own publications–gave many answers to the question “what kind of tonic is in your compositions?”: Op. 60 (Prometheus) -F-sharp; Op. 62 (Sixth Sonata)-G; Op. 64 (Seventh Sonata) -F-sharp; Op. 65, no. 1 (Etude) -B, no. 2-C-sharp, no. 3-G; Op. 66 (Eighth Sonata)-A; Op. 69, no. 1 (Poem) -C, no. 2-D-flat. Many controversies regarding this question emerged because theorists approached neotonality through traditional tonality, not taking into consideration the enormous difference between the two. Furthermore, one must appreciate the courage of Scriabin the innovator, defiantly breaking with old compositional ideologies.

10. Not being a theorist, Scriabin formulated several new ideas. For instance, he suggested calling new functional relationships that are not similar to previous ones “polarities⁴.” According to Scriabin polar relationships were tritonal and also tertian in the octatonic mode (see Example 1). About this relationship, Scriabin said: “It is completely analogous to the tonic/dominant succession and cadence in the classical system, only on a different plane, a level higher.”⁵

Example 1. Scriabin’s Prometheus

11. The composer Scriabin suggested a new analytical method that was needed precisely for the new harmony of the 20th century and, more concretely, for a chromatic tonal system where the functions are not three (tonic, dominant, and subdominant), but all twelve. As researchers have discovered (e.g., Irina Vanechkina), the well-known enigmatic Luce part in the score of Prometheus is none other than a written-out two-voice texture comprised of a line of root tones of chords (the less lively voice).

To put it more simply, it is a harmonic analysis in which one line represents tonalities (they, naturally, change slowly), and the other represents chords (within each tonality there are many chordal changes). This divided two-voice texture is shown in Example 2.

With a score in hand one can verify that all fundamental tones of the well-known six-note Prometheus chord are actually fixed within the framework of the main tonality of Promethews, Frim. For comparison, examine the excerpt of an analysis by Hindemith of the first movement of his symphony, Mathis der Maler⁶ (see Example 3).

12. Another of Scriabin’s innovations pertains to how he does not equate a change in structure (of a chord or motive) with a change in tonality, as in the diatonic system of harmony. Compare the tonal prolongation in Example 2 with the functional changes of chords within a tonality, as in Example 1 (Scriabin’s analysis). Scriabin’s idea about the unification of the vertical and the horizontal -when speaking about “harmonic melody” and “melodic harmony,” or “harmony-melody” is quite interesting: “Harmony and melody are two sides of the same entity. Melody is harmony unfolded, and harmony is melody compacted. I already have in Prometheus harmony and melody as one the melodies are comprised of notes from the harmonies and vice versa.”⁷

Example 3: Hindemith, Unterweisung in Tonsatz

13. Scriabin was one of those composers who paved the way to twelve-tone and serial music. He himself never used second-Viennese dodecaphony, but his late ideas in particular parallel tendencies that lead to serial radicalism. Scriabin was not the only composer at the time trying to uncover paths to unknown lands. Both Roslavets’s “synthetic chord,” obviously following Scriabin’s principle of “tone center” in the early 1910s (as shown by Herman Erpf), and Stravinsky’s microserial fragment in Firebird (from rehearsal 29) represent the Russian path to serial and twelve tone music through the unification of the vertical with horizontal harmonic melodies based on a natural central chord from a modal, symmetrical scale⁸, through a “synthetic chord” as precursor of the series. This beautiful spectrum of ideas partly realized in Scriabin’s late com-positions, but mainly surviving in the sketches to his “Preliminary Act” and in reported statements of unequivocal authenticity-can be considered part of Scriabin’s legacy.

14. Stravinsky posed an intriguing question: “What type of music could such a person have composed had he lived into the 1920s?⁹” The period of compositional inactivity from 1914 to 1915 mentioned above seems to indicate that the composer was standing on the threshold of a new creative period. And, in point of fact, the sketches to the “Act” reveal, at times, new unfamiliar traits, for example, twelve-tone chords (see Examples 4a and 4b). In Example 4a there is a purely dodecaphonic chord, inasmuch as twelve tones are present without octave doublings. In the sixteen-note sonority in Example 4b, it is possible to see something still more unusual: four major-seventh chords arranged symmetrically by minor third, C-E-flat-F-sharp-A. And then, in each of the subchords, Scriabin strikes out the second note from the bottom as a doubled note (see Example); sixteen notes minus four equals twelve pitch classes without repetition and, what is more, this happens in periodic symmetry, which is reminiscent of Webern’s method of thinking (see the ending of his Variations, Op. 27).

15. Close at hand there is yet another surprise: for all his life Scriabin thought only in terms of chordal-harmonic tonality, yet in the next sketch modal thinking begins to show through, that is, thinking on a scalar basis (see Example 5). This is not at all different from the thinking of Messiaen when he writes of symmetrical scales, including the octatonic scale (see Example 5a), and variously combines his notes (see Example 5b), resulting in, among other things, distinctive incomplete scales (see the duplex minor in Examples 5c and 5d). ¹⁰The chords from Example 5e are clearly taken from the same scale (see Example 5a), except that all of the tones of the horizontal set are transformed into the vertical. Scriabin’s unification of the vertical and the horizontal here yields verticalities that earlier would have been uncharacteristic for the composer (even considering polychords constructed from uniform or varied subchords).

16. Several of Scriabin’s creative ideas came later on in life, and sometimes entirely unexpectedly. Not long after his death, the line to which Scriabin belonged (probably without his direct influence) gave rise to still more radical events like, for instance, Nikolai Obukhov’s “absolute harmony,” constructed from all twelve tones without repetition (from 1918, see Example 6, and compare to Example 4). ¹¹ As far back as the 1920s, Yavorsky’s student, Sergei Protopopov, was using modal techniques: he takes a scale in the duplex-major mode (Yavorsky’s term) and combines, from its notes, multi-note unifunctional harmonies, with (naturally!) completely unified vertical and horizontal lines (see Example 7).

*Accidentals apply only to the notes they immediately precede.

**Bottom Brackets added by the author

17. Scriabin’s discoveries correspond with various events that have occurred in different ways right up to present times. The ideological conception of late Scriabin and the legacy of his last years deserve steadfast and detailed attention. However, one must simply lift the veil of mysticism and fantasy surrounding the author. Of course, Scriabin was, subjectively speaking, a mystic, and even such a coincidence as the date of his birth–December 25, Christmas day was interpreted by him as a sign of something higher. Yet if we approach his work not from the position of his mystical quasi-philosophy but from the fundamentals of his art, we find a master of the 20th century, endowed with sound, clear, and precise reasoning. One should sooner consider his mystical visions as a certain catalyst of musical progress, rather than as a basis of compositional content.

18. This compositional content is characterized by a striving to reorganize the world of the soul, to exclude the traditionally romantic “humanistic” or “too humanistic” elements in the vein of Chopin, Liszt, and Tchaikovsky, and to eliminate the romantic sentimentality of “sighs” and singing “lyricism.” Scriabin himself said, in his final years: “Now I have in my music no lyricism whatsoever–it’s a primitive sensation.¹² He was spellbound by his cosmic mysticism, the eternity of the universe’s life, and the endlessness of worldly love. For the Mysterium Scriabin composed a “theme of fire” (used subsequently in the last section of the Seventh Sonata); in another case Scriabin wanted to have a “flight at the speed of light directly toward the sun, or, at the sun!” About the music from Scriabin’s late compositions, Asafev said: “Its main element is fire: from small-sized electric sparks and perfectly jingling fireflies, to the omnivorous fiery flames of the gloomy inferno of the earthly abyss and the ominous fire of cosmic suns. Fire, fire, fire… everywhere, fire.”¹³ This typological description is reminiscent of Olivier Messiaen, who praised the beauty of his own harmony in approximately the same way: “The brilliance of fiery swords” and “A race of turquoise planets.” As with Scriabin, Messiaen’s “mysticism” also blends with a sound compositional design.

19. The legacy of Scriabin the aesthete lies in the assimilation into music of philosophical problems such as the problem of time: “Music mesmerizes time; it is possible to completely stop time with music.” “Rhythm is a spell of time.” “The creative spirit, by means of rhythm, evokes time itself and is governed by it.”¹⁴ Scriabin was prepared to incorporate this into his own work. Preludes Nos. 2 and 4, from Op. 74, conjure up some kind of new Scriabin-like ideas of a “Fourth Period.” The Second Prelude, according to Scriabin, is “death,” “that appearance of the Feminine, which leads to reunification,” “a supreme peace, a white sound, indeed, the prelude lasts entire centuries, it sounds eternally, for millions of years.”¹⁵ The beginning of this “eternal” prelude is shown in Example 8. The idea of cutting oneself off from the flow of time also has something in common with Stockhausen’s concept of “meditative music”: “Stimmung’ is meditative music. Time is removed (ist aufgehoben) »¹⁶

20. Igor Stravinsky, who could be considered Scriabin’s polar opposite, sometimes imitated Scriabin’s ideas. Mimicking Scriabin, who renounced sentimental lyricism, Stravinsky confirmed that “a composition is something completely new and different in relation to what can be called the feelings of the composer.”¹⁷ Scriabin said that “I’ve always recognized that mathematics should play a big role in composition. Sometimes I have an entire computation going on when I compose, a computation of form. “¹⁸ While Stravinsky said that musical form is “a lot closer to mathematics than it is to literature… the method of compositional thought is not that different from mathematical thought.»¹⁹ Scriabin also said that “It’s necessary for the form of a composition to turn out perfectly, like a ball or a crystal,” so that it finds a “bridge between music and geometry.²⁰ Stravinsky: “Musical form is mathematical, if for no other reason than it’s ideal.”²¹ Scriabin, considering his harmony to be functioning at a “higher level,” adopted the term “polarity” of sonorities. Stravinsky, remaining in the framework of tonality yet not the tonality of the 18th century, adopted the idea of an “acoustic polarity.”²² In Stravinsky we find the terms: “polar tone,” “pole of attraction,” and “polarity,” which simply repeat what Scriabin was saying.²³

21. The calculability and the mathematical element of Scriabin’s form, right down to the number of measures, is reminiscent of some formal aspects of the music of Alban Berg, for instance, in the Lyric Suite, where an intimate subject is codified in strictly calculated proportions of musical form. Scriabin’s “crystal” is often compared with several compositions by Webern, for example, his Symphonie, Op. 21. It would be impossible to imagine such mathematical ideas in the music of, say, Tchaikovsky.

(By the way, Taneev a composer who, it would seem, was the exact opposite of Scriabin–anticipated composing with calculations of this sort.)

22. The type of sonority itself, such an important parameter in 20th-century harmony, is distinctively expressed in Scriabin’s music, and it opens up one of the lines of its further development, until the present time. While analyzing Webern’s Op. 5, no. 1, Victor Bobrovsky identifies two opposing tendencies in music of the twentieth century a tendency toward barbarism and another toward sophistication and compares the middle of the piece (mm. 7-10) with the second introductory theme of Scriabin’s Fifth Piano Sonata.²⁴

23. Having emerged as one of the pioneers of harmony, Scriabin created his own world of sounds, whose qualities are grace, flawless adjustability, and invariable beauty of expression. Semen Bogatyrev said something to the effect that “in his entire life Scriabin never wrote one wrong note.” This type of sonority from Scriabin can also serve as a beautiful stylistic reference point in the contemporary study of harmony while mastering its complex techniques: twelve-tone, dissonant-modal, acoustic, and free atonal harmony.

24. Some of Scriabin’s ideas anticipate acoustic music and multimedia, for instance, the mixture of a musical sound with a nonmusical one: “I.. will have whispers… After all, a whisper has never been used as a sound before. The whisper of a huge mass of people, the whisper of a chorus.” “Melody begins with sounds, and then it continues… for example, in gestures, or it begins in a sound but continues as a line of lights. “²⁵

Scriabin dreamed of some kind of dramatic performance made up of sound, color, light, aromas, spells, and motion of forms. Once he said, “Silence is also a sound… In silence there is sound. And a rest always sounds… I think that there could even be a composition consisting entirely of silence. ²⁶ In light of this, it is possible to view the ideas of time associated with the post-war avant-garde, such as “zero sound” or “sounding rests,” as borrowings from Scriabin. And then the well known silent piece by Cage, 4’33”, can be viewed simply as a manifestation of Scriabin’s intention. In his Mysterium he wanted there to be “notes that will not actually sound, but will need to be imagined,”²⁷ like the “counterpoint of sound and silence” that Pierre Boulez once used to describe the music of Webern.

25. Having gotten a hearty laugh over the collection A Slap in the Face of the Public Taste (Moscow 1913), Scriabin nevertheless approved of the poetry of Velimir Khlebnikov, whose neologisms proved to be in line with the literary aspirations of the composer himself.²⁸ Scriabin wanted to use his own new words in the text of the “Preliminary Act,” such as “lubviinyi” and “molninyi.” It seemed to Scriabin that “every word is its own harmony,” and he thought that “it’s possible to create new words, as we create new harmonies and forms in music. “²⁹

26. Finally, having listened attentively to acoustically pure upper overtones that deviate from a tempered tuning system, Scriabin sensed the space between contiguous notes of the chromatic scale and heard the possibility of microtonality. He said “the tempered tuning system already feels cramped to me,” and “the time has come to destroy” temperament. Microtonality is not new in music: quarter tones have been around for over 2,500 years. But in the new circuit of 20th-century music, microtonality is one of the extreme modal-harmonic means of composition. In 1925 Ivan Vyshnegradski composed his First String Quartet in quarter tones. Its first sonority, played by all four instruments, is the quarter-tone cluster C1, С≠1, C≠1, and C##’!

Today, microtonality is a frequently occurring phenomenon in music.

27. Stravinsky once wrote about the creative process: “At its basis, every work assumes something like an appetite, which gives rise to the anticipation of discovery.”³⁰ To a high degree, Scriabin was endowed with the capacity for such artistic discoveries.

Having broken through, in his striving harmonic evolution of 1903 to 1910, to “new shores” of harmony, and thanks to the audacity of his “mystic” insight (leaving aside considerations of the shackles of inertia), he saw new harmonic opportunities, and saw and heard not only complicated harmonies of a traditional pitch-class type like twelve-tone chords, but also sonorous harmonic timbres, or timbral harmonies. He also noticed the boundaries of the harmonic world, beyond which harmonic timbres turn into light, colors, smells, and gestures. The legacy of this great Russian composer will surely last in the long and problematic development of music.

28. The era of Alexander Scriabin has long since passed us by. Yet his ideas and artistic discoveries have been developed widely in music of the twentieth century. Now, at the end of the century, we better understand that which seemed to be, at the beginning of the century, an unrestrained randomness of a solipsistic fantasy.

Alexander Scriabin is surely closer to us now than he was in the 1930s or 1940s.

– Yuri Kholopov

1. Leonid Sabaneev, Vospominania o Skriabine (Recollections of Scriabin) (Moscow 1925): 227-28. ↩︎
2. Ibid., 62. ↩︎
3. Varvara Dernova, Garmonia Skriabina (The Harmony of Scriabin) (Leningrad 1968). See also: Varvara Dernova, “Garmoniia Skriabina,” in the published collection A. N. Scriabin (Moscow 1973): 381.
   In particular, see the final cadence of Op. 74, no. 4, in which it seems there is no existing tonic D. ↩︎
4. Sabaneev, 46-48, 223, 224. See also the published collection A. N. Scriabin, 425, 538. ↩︎
5. Ibid., 224. This is Sabaneev’s retelling; apparently, Scriabin said “to the tonic/dominant succession” since the “tonic pole” is the second chord in Ex. 1 and not the first. ↩︎
6. Paul Hindemith, Unterweisung im Tonsatz, Part 1 (Mainz 1940): 257. ↩︎
7. Sabaneev, 223. ↩︎
8. See Zofia Lissa, “Geschichtliche Vorform der Zwölftontechnik,” Acta Musicologica VII (1935), no. 1. ↩︎
9. Igor Stravinsky, Dialogi Dialogues) (Leningrad 1971): 47. ↩︎
10. By the way, it would be completely possible to account for the melody of the first secondary theme area in the Finale of Shostakovich’s Second Piano Trio according to this duplex-minor scale, transposing it from C minor to A minor. ↩︎
11. See Gottfried Eberle, Zwischen Tonalität: Studien zur Harmonik Alexander Skrabin [sic] (München-Salzburg 1978); and “Alexander Skrjabin und Skrjabinisten,” [sic] Musik-Konzepte [sic], nos. 32/33 (Sep. 1983). [The correct title of Eberle’s book is Zwischen Tonalität und Atonalität. Studien zur Harmonik Alexander Skriabins. The correct titles of the article and of the compilation in which it appears are “Alexander Skriabin und die Skriabinisten” and Musik-Konzebte–trans.] ↩︎
12. 12 Sabaneev, 223. ↩︎
13. Boris Asaflev, “Skriabin. Opyt kharakteristiki” (Scriabin: the Experience of Characteristics), in the published collection A. N. Scriabin (Petrograd 1921): 53. ↩︎
14. Sabaneev, 25. ↩︎
15. Ibid., 270. ↩︎
16. Karlheinz Stockhausen, Texte zur elektronischen und instrumentalen Musik, vol. I (Cologne 1963): 18. ↩︎
17. Stravinsky, 215. ↩︎
18. Sabaneev, 105. ↩︎
19. Stravinsky, 228. ↩︎
20. Sabaneev, 105, 254. ↩︎
21. Stravinsky, 228. ↩︎
22. Igor Stravinsky, Khronika moey zhizni (Chronicle of My Life) (Leningrad 1963): 185. Apparently, Stravinskv’s “polarity” is none other than a translation from Russian of the term “stability.” ↩︎
23. Igor Stravinsky, “Mysli iz ‘muzikal’noy poetiki” (Thoughts from “musical poetics”), in the published collection I. E. Stravinsky (Moscow 1973): 29-31. ↩︎
24. Victor Bobrovsky, Funktsional’nye osnovy muzykal’noi formy (Functional bases of musical form),
    (Moscow 1970): 306-7. ↩︎
25. Sabaneev, 206. ↩︎
26. Ibid., 288. ↩︎
27. Ibid., 188. ↩︎
28. Velimir Khlebnikov, Tvorenia (Works) (Moscow 1987): 51-56. ↩︎
29. Sabaneev, 250. ↩︎
30. Stravinsky, Mysli.., 31. ↩︎