It seems that humanity has never really moved “from worse to better.”

Let’s assume that in life itself progress is barely visible—just look at our endless and horrifying wars. But perhaps in art it does exist? And if so, what about music? Do we actually have any progress there?

My father believed music ended with Beethoven’s late quartets. A noble hill to die on—yet history, rather rudely, continued. And really, who would dare to claim that Bach is “better” than, let’s say, Shostakovich?

(Although my daughter would now stubbornly scream: of course Bach is better!—a position delivered with total conviction and absolutely zero room for debate 😄)

Or that Rembrandt somehow failed next to Cézanne? The very idea feels absurd.

After our last concert—with Bartók and Artaud (as one listener memorably described it: satanic and dangerous)—we decided to behave sensibly and return to the timeless beauty of Mozart and Brahms 🙏

Still, with a small inner devil whispering in my ear, I can’t resist proposing a few questions.

Is there such a thing as progress in art?

Do we actually become better with time—and does art improve along with us?

What is truly new, and what is merely old ideas dressed in fresh costumes?

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To help us—or properly confuse us—we will quietly invite two ghosts of the past: Kazimir Malevich and Arnold Schoenberg. Both are icons of innovation, yet neither came out of nowhere.

Malevich, often imagined as a radical rupture, grew out of ancient traditions and icon painting—his famous Black Square casting a very long shadow backward in time.

Schoenberg, the great revolutionary of atonality and the twelve-tone system, was in fact deeply traditional, rooted in counterpoint, classical form, and profoundly Brahmsian–Mahlerian thinking.

And paradoxically, it was those often labeled “academic”—Mozart and Brahms—whom Schoenberg himself considered truly progressive. Not innovators chasing novelty, but composers who expanded form, harmony, and meaning from within.

To experience this tension between tradition and innovation, we will also turn to cinema, drawing on two geniuses of the medium: Murnau and the animated world of Norstein.

 

If, by the end of the evening, we understand absolutely… nothing—then the concert’s mission will be fully accomplished 😄 After all, art is not here to give instructions. It’s here to charm, unsettle, provoke, and perhaps even slightly improve us.

As for the performers, we’re inviting five fantastic musicians—each worthy of a full biographical essay (which would still fail to capture how good they really are)—to bring you one of the great jewels of chamber music: a Brahms Quintet.

We would love to see you there—curious, open, and ready for Mozart and Brahms.

Artistically yours 

Leon