Mu­si­cal dis­cus­sion is the con­fron­ta­tion of feel­ing and un­der­stand­ing in the com­poser, but also in the mu­sic lis­tener.
This dis­cus­sion may be very easy and ef­fort­less as we ex­peri­ence with the sages, but it may also turn into a tough con­flict as we wit­ness in the case of the un­edu­cated.

Dur­ing the proc­ess of gain­ing knowl­edge in mu­sic our feel­ing as­pires in all sim­plic­ity to the fields of higher mu­si­cal or­ders, be­cause know­ing higher mu­si­cal or­ders re­leases more en­ergy in our feel­ing, by which we lis­ten­ers feel emo­tion­ally strength­ened – in other words, we find our­selves con­firmed in our feel­ing.

Ac­cord­ing to the in­ner sys­tem­atics of the com­po­si­tion the path of gain­ing knowl­edge starts from the mu­si­cal sound-space, and leads through the motif-space and the se­quence-space to mu­si­cal unity, which is real­ized in the har­mony.

Due to its in­her­ent in­er­tia our un­der­stand­ing ini­tially of­fers a cer­tain re­sis­tance to this proc­ess of gain­ing knowl­edge; be­cause, al­though it per­ceives more unity in the fields of higher mu­si­cal or­der, at the same time it per­ceives less di­ver­sity.

On the path of knowl­edge, how­ever, the un­der­stand­ing, owing to its na­ture, strives for di­ver­sity and is there­fore con­fronted with our feel­ing.
It tries to ex­plain to the feel­ing that with the ver­ti­cal di­rec­tion of knowl­edge, which leads into the depth, the mu­si­cal way to­wards sen­ti­men­talism is paved, and that this mu­si­cal proc­ess of gain­ing knowl­edge must end where one will also find the schmaltz.
Seen from its de­sire for di­ver­sity, our un­der­stand­ing does not see any sense in such a de­vel­op­ment, and makes it clear to the feel­ing with the nec­es­sary obstinacy.

And while our feel­ing lis­tens to these words of rea­son of the un­der­stand­ing, it looks long­ingly from the mu­si­cal sound-space to the motif-space, and its eyes be­gin to dream: only too much would it like to enter the motif-space and to un­fold there happily, rather than here in the rigid limi­ta­tions of the mu­si­cal sound-space.

So, fi­nally, the un­der­stand­ing gives in and fol­lows the feel­ing into the world of the mo­tifs.
Cer­tainly, in this sub­tler mu­si­cal world of cog­ni­tion of the mo­tifs it feels more awake, and de­spite all the motif move­ments it has not lost track of the tones – of course it still has them all in sight and watches them care­fully.

Yet here – in the world of the mo­tifs – our un­der­stand­ing feels that life and the proc­ess of mu­si­cal un­fold­ment is too sim­ple, a bit too plain. There­fore, it keeps its cog­niz­ing eye on the tones – which sur­round the motif-space – like an astrologer who con­tinu­ally gazes from his bor­ing earth into the highly fascinating space.

While the un­der­stand­ing is on the lookout, our feel­ing, in an unob­served moment, has al­ready peeked into the next world, the world of the se­quence, where it be­holds an even greater unity, and its eyes be­come even more shin­ing.
Be­cause there, our feel­ing dis­cov­ers a world of even greater mu­si­cal or­der, a di­men­sion of even greater mu­si­cal sim­plic­ity.

As our un­der­stand­ing no­tices this glance, it be­gins to doubt the quali­ties of the feel­ing.
Im­me­di­ately it real­izes very clearly: this is where the jour­ney is to con­tinue to – away from the stars, and into the life of the clan.

There­fore, the un­der­stand­ing de­cides from this moment on to go back­wards for safety’s sake, be­cause on its fur­ther way with the feel­ing into the realm of the se­quence, its be­loved stars in the mu­si­cal sound-space appear more and more remote and indis­tinct.

But the feel­ing drags it along into the realm of the se­quences, to the an­cient moth­ers of mu­sic, from which all mu­si­cal mo­tifs emerge – like chil­dren emerge from their mother – be­fore they un­fold into melo­dies on their in­di­vid­ual life-paths.

Hav­ing reached the world of the se­quence, only eve­ry now and then the un­der­stand­ing dares to cast a glance side­ways, but oth­er­wise keeps its eye of cog­ni­tion di­rected out­side to the worlds of the mo­tifs and be­yond it, to the world of the mu­si­cal sound-space.
The un­der­stand­ing dares not to look be­hind it­self into the realm of the har­mony, be­cause even a glance side­ways shows that the mu­si­cal sim­plic­ity of the world of the se­quence has reached a de­gree which the un­der­stand­ing can­not read­ily iden­tify with.

The feel­ing, how­ever, in­dulges in its own hap­pi­ness of life, and a dis­cus­sion be­tween feel­ing and un­der­stand­ing also re­veals that the un­der­stand­ing ac­tu­ally be­gins to feel bet­ter in the sub­tler mu­si­cal fields of knowl­edge.
Al­though from here the un­der­stand­ing can no longer per­ceive the dis­tant stars of the mu­si­cal sound-space, the tones, so clearly, it be­gins to per­ceive them in the mo­tifs as well, for the mo­tifs are per­ma­nently deal­ing with the shin­ing tone waves.

And as a matter of fact, the un­der­stand­ing must admit that even here, in the se­quences, it senses a trace of the mo­tifs – just like con­clud­ing from the mother to the chil­dren.
Fur­ther­more, the un­der­stand­ing feels more alert here in the sub­tler mu­si­cal fields of knowl­edge, a sen­sa­tion that is very pleas­ant to it; and in­deed, it even be­lieves to be more in­tel­li­gent.