Heinz Holliger at Sixty

When I referred to Heinz Holliger's ‘maximalist’ oeuvre in a recent review, I was unaware that his Swiss colleague Armin Schibler (1920–86) had used the term ‘Maximal Music’ to describe his own stylistic catholicity. On reflection, however, the epithet seems apposite to each of these two uncommonly searching composers. Like Michael Tippett, whom he admired, Schibler was sometimes accused of squandering his talents in a constant quest to enlarge his range. Holliger's music, too, has been deemed wanting in individual personality because of its apparent preoccupation with extended techniques. It is a music which may alienate as much as it attracts, and which could not be further removed from Heinz Holliger's public persona as a virtuosic oboist. There are fine performers whose compositions have proved to be disappointingly second-hand. But not only are Holliger's inimitable (for which his heroic interpreters must sometimes be thankful!); every bar that he writes is the product of an expressive need.