Like no other composer of his generation, Richard Strauss invites stereotypes as much as he evades categorisation. While clichés of the plain Bavarian, the money-grabbing businessman, the egocentric promoter of his own works, the political opportunist, the scandalous modernist, turning into audience-pleasing conservative are legion, these masks were consciously adopted or accepted by a man who (yet another cliché: the passionate skat player) always kept his cards close to his chest. Uncovering the real face behind the multiple masks is as precarious a task as it is timely. His fall-out with musical modernism earned him the lasting scorn and backbiting from progressive musicians and critics, led by the notoriously venomous Adorno.Footnote ¹ The fashionable slandering of Strauss as the bête noir of twentieth-century music has dictated public opinion so strongly that scholarship was slow in attempting a more nuanced assessment. In the decades following World War II, the composer and his oeuvre were appreciated by a small congregation of academics, who were either closet Straussians or agents provocateurs kicking against the goads of established discourse.Footnote ² Only as people grew weary of modernist ideologies and a post-modernist attitude dawned on the horizon, did scholars gradually begin to recognise the positive qualities of Strauss and his music. When the Journal of the American Musicological Society accepted the first ever article on the composer in 2004, he had been fully rehabilitated as a subject worthy of academic study.Footnote ³

From there, it was but a matter of time that the Cambridge Companion series would devote a volume to Richard Strauss (after no fewer than 54 other composers had received the same honour). The editor, Charles Youmans, a former student of Strauss champion Bryan Gilliam, faced several challenges: to begin with, he had to present an alternative to the volume's direct if less prestigious forerunner, The Richard Strauss Companion.Footnote ⁴ As the circle of eminent Strauss scholars is still limited, it was unavoidable that same authors should appear in both companions. The overlap of personnel, however, is limited to three scholars (Morten Kristansen, Walter Werbeck, Charles Youmans, who (with the exception of Kristiansen's chapter on the early operas up to Salome) treat different subject matters.

Youmans managed to assemble an impressive array of experts that represent the whole gamut of Strauss research. Budding Straussians of a new generation, including Wayne Heisler, Jr. and David Larkin, join the ranks of renowned authorities on Strauss (headed by Bryan Gilliam) and other aspects of nineteenth- and twentieth-century music (James Deaville, James Hepokoski, Susan Youens). Even German-speaking scholarship, which has traditionally dominated the field, is represented by a small but select group of specialists. By including their contributions, Youmans made sure to display the full spectrum of Strauss research, undertaken on an international level.Footnote ⁵ Due credit goes to Wolfgang Thym for producing accurate translations that render even the notorious heavy-handedness of German academic prose into readable, even elegant English. Only in rare instances might a more idiomatic translation have been imagined (such as ‘short score’ for the German term ‘particell’, which has been retained in its original throughout chapter 2).

The combination of carefully selected of authors clearly had the potential to produce a milestone in Strauss scholarship. Unfortunately, the volume does not meet these expectations. This is partly due to the default format of the Cambridge Companion series. To be sure, bite-sized chapters of around 15 pages each are ill suited to capture a creative life that ranged from the Bavarian monarchy to the foundation of the Federal Republic of Germany (under the Allied Forces) and that spawned a sizeable and multifarious oeuvre. Yet, the challenges, although considerable, were by no mean insurmountable. If only the editor had plucked up his courage to take the bull by the horns be more selective. Fewer but longer chapters would have allowed for a more thorough discussion of certain aspects or selected case studies, which then could have represented the whole picture.

Regrettably, the paradigmatic approach – the ideal, if risky solution – was not adopted by the editor, who decided to play it safe. Parts I and II of the Companion, which are entitled ‘Background’ and ‘Works’, respectively, are structured around an implied chronology. The section on ‘Background’, takes as its starting point ‘The musical world of Strauss's youth’ (James Deaville, pp. 3–21) and closes with Wayne Heisler's observations on the early works (‘Maturity and indecision in the early works’, pp. 42–55). Walter Werbeck's chapter on ‘Strauss's compositional process’ (pp. 22–41), which is printed between these two chapters, inevitably appears as a digression. The chronological thread is taken up in Part II, where Strauss's creative life is divided neatly into consecutive phases: two cycles of tone poems (1887–98; chapters by David Larkin, pp. 59–77, and James Hepokoski, pp. 78–104) are followed by the early operas Guntram, Feuersnot and Salome (1893–1905; Morten Kristiansen, pp. 105–18), the operatic collaboration with Hoffmansthal (1908–32; Bryan Gilliam, pp. 119–35), ‘Opera after Hoffmansthal’ (1933–41; Philip Graydon, pp. 136–50) and the works produced in the proverbial Indian Summer after 1945 (Jürgen May, ‘Last Works’, pp. 178–92). The linear development is eschewed only in the penultimate chapter, in which Susan Youens traces the importance of the lied right across Strauss's creative life (‘ “Actually, I like my songs best”: Strauss's lieder’, pp. 151–77).

It goes without saying that such a straight chronological path is not the most adventurous. True, the lack of original flair alone should not necessarily be problematic within the genre of a compendium, whose very appeal lies in the plain communication of complex phenomena. More critically, however, the curious equation of creative periods with musical genres and styles creates several blind spots. To give but two crude examples: the strict division between creative periods suggests that Strauss turned his undivided attention to opera, once the second cycle of tone poems had come to an end. As a result, even major orchestral works such as the Alpensymphonie or the Symphonia domestica are bypassed almost completely, save for a passing remark (in different contexts). Strauss specialists may particularly deplore the absence of the many ‘problematic’ works that originated after World War I: curiosities like the Parergon (1925) and Panathenäenzug (1927), both written for Paul Wittgenstein, or his ballet compositions (recently explored in a monograph by Heisler).Footnote ⁶ If anything, these works, which have puzzled and perplexed audiences right from the outset, would have been in need of reconsideration and recontextualisation in a compendium that intends to get beyond a selective perception of Strauss's multifarious oeuvre.

Covering so heterogeneous a subject in a string of 15-page chapters is admittedly a task of Herculean proportions. Constraints can be productive when approached with strategic cunning and resolve. Symptomatically, the lack of both qualities, which shines through the table of contents, elicited a similarly timid response from the contributors. Although the subjects allocated to them were far too big to be explored in their entirety, authors tended to go for the all-inclusive picture regardless. All too often, the chapters often present little more than a catalogue of all works that fall under the certain heading, accompanied with minimal commentary. The resulting fragmentation defies the purpose: if chapters such as ‘The Strauss-Hofmannsthal operas’ (Gilliam, pp. 119–35) or ‘Opera after Hofmannsthal’ (Graydon, pp. 136–50) devote no more than an average two pages to each opera, the individual sub-units become too small to carry intellectual weight and substance.Footnote ⁷ Moreover, such a grand sweep through Strauss's oeuvre will still favour the popular works over the ‘problematic’ ones. To mention a typical example: While one might be sad to see a twentieth-century classic like Der Rosenkavalier laid aside after but one and a half pages, the cursory discussion of Die ägyptische Helena (on less than a page) fails to do justice to an obscure work, on which genuine insights are hard to obtain. Ironically, the rare opera guide that was to include this opera, would be likely to give it a more extensive and detailed treatment.

This being said, while most authors resort to linear descriptions or reports of the scholarly status quo, some thrive under the pressure of fitting a big subject into a short space. Walter Werbeck presents an admirably succinct and insightful study on ‘Strauss's compositional process’ and working methods (pp. 22–41), which will become the main point of reference for years to come. In stark opposition to the earlier tone poems, James Hepokoski's chapter on the ‘second cycle of tone poems’ wisely leaves all information out of the frame that is ‘well known and widely available’ (such as narrative programmes) and focuses his attention on the more ‘pressing issue’ of the ‘larger artistic purposes that motivated these works in the first place’ (p. 78). Viewing the works from Till Eulenspiegel (1894–95) to Ein Heldenleben (1897–98) from a systematic and analytical perspective, Hepokoski distils an ‘arsenal of hypermodern techniques’, which sheds new light on these familiar compositions. Susan Youens equally breaks new ground by being daringly selective: her chapter on Strauss's lieder, which is the longest in the entire book and amply illustrated with musical examples, boldly brushes aside Strauss's all-too-popular compositions (including the Four Last Songs). This drastic cure is justified by its results: not only does Youens cast fresh perspectives on lieder outside the Strauss canon, she accomplishes a remarkably open-minded appraisal of Strauss's weaknesses and strengths as a lied composer.

What is exceptional in the first two parts of the compendium, thankfully becomes the norm in the concluding Part III, entitled ‘Perspectives’. Under this general category Youmans assembles a loosely connected series of essays on different facets of the composer and his reception. Interestingly, as the editor loosens his grip, the authors take more responsibility. As the overall high quality of their contributions reveals, they rejoiced at the prospect of not being bound to cover a set repertoire of works. As Part III turns into a veritable jewel box, it is hard to single out the most brilliant gems. The tone is set by Alex Ross (‘Strauss's place in the twentieth century’, 195–212), whose spirited and provocatively revisionist essay seeks to uncover Strauss's unlikely influence on twentieth-century composers of the modernist fold (from Schoenberg and Stravinsky to Messiaen and Lachenmann). Günter Brosche elucidates the function and place of quotations within Strauss's compositional approach (‘Musical quotations and allusions in the works of Richard Strauss’, 213–25). Michael Walter's discussion of Strauss's anti-Semitism and his role during the Third Reich is admirably frank and fair in its judgements and keeps a safe distance to both apologetic and incriminating tendencies (‘Strauss in the Third Reich’, 226–41). The cliché of Strauss the capitalist music-producer is persuasively revisited by Scott Warfield (‘Strauss and the business of music’, 242–56). Raymond Holden's rich portrayal of Strauss's activities as conductor (‘Kapellmeister Strauss’, 257–68) whets the appetite for his forthcoming monograph on the subject. The final pair of chapters by Gilliam (‘Strauss and the sexual body: the erotics of humour, philosophy and ego-assertion’, 269–79) and Youmans (‘Strauss and the nature of music’, 280–93) rise to the aesthetic principles behind Strauss's creative life and appropriately conclude the book on a philosophical note.

Despite the uneven quality of the Cambridge Companion to Strauss, the essays of Part III, together with the beacons of Parts I and II, make a substantial and useful reference book for Strauss scholars of all levels. A rich apparatus of endnotes (which often add new perspectives to the discussion) and a detailed bibliography provide excellent references for further reading. Some chapters are excellently illustrated with musical examples. Hepokoski and Youens in particular deserve praise for highlighting the essence of a composition with strategically chosen excerpts. All musical examples have been typeset specifically for the volume. The constantly varying zoom factor causes some irritation, especially when, in a list of musical examples, different sizes are juxtaposed (for instance, p. 97, where shorter examples are much larger than longer ones). While the less imaginative chapters on work-groups will not effect a revolution in scholarship, they achieve at least a solid and reliable portrayal of the current state of Strauss research (in English and other languages), which will be of benefit for neophytes in this field.