Any close engagement with the later works of the Austrian composer Karl Weigl soon-and almost inevitably-becomes an exercise in tracing origins. Driven into American exile by the delusions of a self-proclaimed master race, he, like many of his contemporaries, remained so firmly bound to his cultural roots that a nostalgic backward glance across the Atlantic becomes perceptible even where his music ventures into comparatively advanced musical language. He never relinquishes tonal gravity, nor does he lose the unmistakable grace he carried with him into exile. As a result, even in one of humanity’s most tragic moments (1939), when he entrusted his quartet with a deeply heartfelt and intimate prayer, he placed his faith in the healing power of beauty. And two years later, he was able to compose Three Intermezzi that, from first bar to last, reveal the Viennese artist he remained throughout his life.