Less than fifty minutes on a disc may seem short measure, 
          but when the time is stuffed full of little discoveries, as this disc 
          is, the rewards are long lasting indeed. The name of Hauer is more often 
          found in text books than in concert hall programmes, and if this disc 
          is anything to go by this neglect is hopelessly unfounded. His discography 
          is woefully small. Some piano pieces are played by Herbert Henck on 
          Wergo WER6609-2, some are played by Elizabeth Klein on ClassicO CLASSCD176 
          and (amazingly) there is a complete performance of his opera Salammbo 
          on Orfeo (a live account from 1983 conducted by Lothar Zagrosek on Orfeo 
          C493981A). 
        
Perhaps it is unfortunate that Hauer is best known 
          for his dispute with Schoenberg as to who had the idea of the twelve-tone 
          system. He was a curious man who in his time even formed the model for 
          the Magister Ludi in Hermann Hesse’s Glass Bead Game (incidentally, 
          a truly inspirational book: if you have not read it, I suggest you do). 
          From 1939, all of Hauer’s works were called Zwölftonspiele 
          but not numbered so they appear as only, for example, Zwölftonspiel 
          for piano (New Year 1947), or Zwölftonspiel for flute and 
          harpsichord (August 31st, 1948). This is hardly ideal (apparently 
          there are literally thousands of them), but there remains as yet no 
          catalogue of his works. Although the majority are for piano, piano duet 
          or harpsichord, other instruments and combinations appear and it is 
          with one of these combinations that the MDG disc begins - for ‘home’ 
          orchestra: Zwölftonspiel for violin, cello, accordion and piano 
          four hands (October 1957). It is true to say that this is curiously 
          and deliberately inexpressive music (Hauer’s own instructions for performance 
          are an unhelpful, ‘not too fast, not too slow, not too loud, not too 
          soft; well-tempered, well-intoned’). 
        
Right. No problem, then. 
        
Well, actually, there is, for there is no performance 
          tradition for the Ensemble Avantgarde to call on, and the booklet notes 
          tell of much discussion/argument in rehearsal as to how to actually 
          present these pieces. What’s more, they all apparently follow the same 
          model: a twelve note row is stated and then set out in four parts, undergoing 
          contrapuntal exploration (although this appears not to happen in all 
          of the pieces on the disc: Zwölftonspiel for violin and piano) 
          has the piano in distinctly accompanimental mode against the more obviously 
          solo violin). The fact is that the uniformity of title belies the variety 
          contained therein, both within and between pieces. What is for sure, 
          though, is that the juxtaposition of ‘play‘ and twelve-note manipulation, 
          which may at first appear anachronistic, actually provides incredibly 
          fertile ground for the seeds of Hauer’s imagination. 
        
The first track, the above-mentioned Zwölftonspiel 
          for home orchestra for home orchestra: violin, cello, accordion and 
          piano four hands (October 1957) presents a bizarre sound, instantly 
          Viennese (although the Vienna of the turn of the century Second Viennese 
          School). Some pieces come across as disembodied fragments: Zwölftonspiel 
          for violin and harpsichord (August 26th, 1948) is just 58 seconds, 
          for example, and the Zwölftonspiel for solo clarinet (1947), 
          base on a twelve-tone row by Ernst Hartmann, is 1‘05 of Matthias Kreher’s 
          superb clarinet playing. The variety of Hauer’s musical language, even 
          within the 50 minutes of this disc, is breath-taking and ranges from 
          the pleasant (Zwölftonspiel for flute and harpsichord)  
          to the almost Impressionistically-lush-threatening-pre-Glassian-minimalism-at-any-moment 
          Zwölftonspiel for string quartet (January 1957), to the 
          capricious XXII. Zwölftonspiel for piano (1946), 
          to the serious-yet-delicate Zwölftonspiel for piano (New Year 
          1947) ... the list just goes on ... 
        
Performances are uniformly excellent. Pianist Steffen 
          Schleiermacher is superb (try any of his John Cage discs on the same 
          label if you need further proof, or his piano recital of Darmstadt music 
          on MDG613 1004-2: see my review). He also provides the indispensable 
          booklet notes. Embedded within the member list of the Ensemble Avantgarde 
          is the Leipzig String Quartet, which has distinguished itself elsewhere 
          in Dabringhaus und Grimm’s extensive catalogue. 
        
I am confident this disc will not only retain its fascination 
          for a long time to come, but that it will encourage me to explore what 
          little the catalogue has to offer of this remarkable figure. It would 
          be a heart-warming thought indeed if, in these cash-strapped times for 
          the recording industry, enlightened companies the like of Dabringhaus 
          und Grimm could continue where this disc left off and provide more Hauer 
          discs. They would, indeed, be most welcome. 
        
 
        
        
 
        
        
Colin Clarke