The World Is Still Catching Up to the Music of Hector Berlioz

Hector Berlioz did not have the twilight of a great composer.

In his memoirs, he described himself in his 60s as “past hopes, past illusions, past high thoughts and lofty conceptions.” His extraordinary but unusual music was unloved and unplayed; a widower two times over, he was lonely, and hated people more than ever. He wrote, with a shake of his fist at the sky: “I say hourly to Death, ‘When you will.’ Why does he delay?”

He felt wronged by the public and his fellow composers, who even when they admired him didn’t know what to do with his music, or his personality. Wagner wrote that Berlioz didn’t trust anyone’s opinion, and seemed to enjoy isolation, dooming him to “remain forever incomplete and perhaps really shine only as a transient, marvelous exception.”

Berlioz had faith that his time would come, though. By his estimate, things would pick up for him if he could just live to 140. He made it to 65.

But he wasn’t wrong. After his death, in 1869, some of his works, like the “Symphonie Fantastique,” became firmly entrenched in the canon, and he is the subject of this year’s Bard Music Festival, which begins on Aug. 9. Still, two weeks’ worth of concerts and panel discussions, as well as a companion collection of essays, can only begin to capture the breadth of Berlioz’s artistry.

There is Berlioz the composer, of course, but also Berlioz the critic, the conductor, the impresario, the philosopher and the literary author. A focus on his music alone is just as dizzying: Nearly every work defies conventional analysis and taxonomy, and must be approached on its own terms.

His idiosyncratic music didn’t truly catch on until the mid-20th century, and even then fitfully. His operas remain too difficult to stage regularly, and many of his concert works are too strange to program or market to audiences. It feels as though we are still catching up to Berlioz’s pipe-dream visions of musical possibility.