Professional Documents
Culture Documents
About Music
When You Foolishly
Signed Up
for
Music 10100
Spring 2016
Business Matters
Introductory Materials
The Elements of Music
The History of Music
Genres of Music
Performers
Essays about Music
The Appendix
City College, CUNY
Spring 2016
Required Text: The text for the course has been designed by your instructor
and will either be handed to you in person or sent to you as email attachments.
It is, therefore, important for you to check your email inbox on a regular basis.
All the music covered in this class is available on YouTube.
Objectives: This course is designed to foster an understanding of the various
contexts in which music is heard in different cultures around the world.
Examples drawn from diverse historical and geographical repertoires will
cultivate an awareness of stylistic similarities and differences. Students
practice being active listeners, learning the vocabulary necessary to
describe this experience both verbally and in writing. By the end of this
course, students will know preeminent composers, performers, genres and
styles, and their historical context. Students will recognize by ear and be
able to articulate orally and in writing the differences between various
musical styles and genres.
General Education Proficiencies:
After completing this course you will have developed the following
proficiencies:
Oral and written communication skills Students will produce well-
reasoned written or oral arguments using evidence to support conclusions.
Critical analysis You will have had multiple experiences in critically
and constructively analyzing information in different areas of study.
Information literacy You will have had multiple experiences in
gathering, interpreting, and assessing information from a variety of resources
and in evaluating the reliability of this information.
Artistic/Creative expression proficiency Students will identify and
apply the fundamental concepts and methods of a discipline or
interdisciplinary field exploring creative expression.
Grading:
Tests (30%)
Final Exam (20%)
Written Assignments (50%)
Music 101 Assignments
Assignment 1a
Due Monday, February 8
600 words: The Role of Music and Dance in My Life
Assignment 1b
Due ASAP: Send me a 100 word bio and photo to share with the class.
When you send me an assignment as an attachment please label it with
your name and the number of the assignment (ex. Jablonsky 1b).
Assignment 2
Due Wednesday, March 2
600 words: Composers Lives
Assignment 3
Due Monday, March 28
600 words: The Metropolitan Museum Treasure Hunt Report
Assignment 4
Due Monday, April 18
600 words: The Concert Report
You are to attend a concert at the college and report back to me about
the memorable moments of the entire process. Tell me about you before,
during, and after the concert.
Assignment 5
Due, Monday May 16
Your
assignment
is
to
visit
the
museum,
located
at
82nd
Street
and
Fifth
Avenue,
and
go
on
a
cultural
treasure
hunt.
You
are
to
locate
twenty
pieces
of
art
that
have
something
to
do
with
music
or
dance.
Fill
in
the
chart
below
with
your
treasures
and
then,
in
600
words,
describe
your
feelings
about
the
trip
and
your
favorite
treasure.
You
may
only
use
five
examples
from
the
instrument
collection.
Go
and
enjoy!
If
you
go
with
a
friend
it
is
even
better.
Dont
pay
the
suggested
admission
fee.
Heading. Contains your name, my name, class and section, and date. Make sure you have
the correct title and when you write your paper make sure you stick to the topic. Do not add
a blank back page or a fancy cover.
Staple. Use one staple in the upper left-hand corner to attach your sheets.
Margins. One inch on the top and left. 3/4 inch on right and bottom.
Line spacing. Use one blank space after a comma and two after a period.
Punctuation. Check a style manual if you are not sure of punctuation usage. Do not use too
much or too little.
Tense agreement. Make sure that the time elements in the sentence agree with each other.
Singular/plural. Make sure the quantity of the subject agrees with the form of the verb.
Syntax. Make sure the word order is correct. Try to make sure you have communicated
exactly what you wanted to say in the simplest, most direct way. Sometimes it is better to
break a lengthy, complicated sentence into two simpler ones.
Grammar. Make sure you handle adverbs and adjectives correctly. Adverbs modify a verb,
adjective or other adverb. They often end with the letters ly. Adjectives modify a noun. Do
not mix them in a series.
Past tense. Many verbs end with the letters ed if the action is in the past.
Articles. Foreign students should remember to use a and the before a noun.
Redundancies. Try not to repeat important words, phrases or ideas in the same or
consecutive sentences.
Word count. Stay within the 90-110% range of the suggested length. For example, if the
paper is to be 600 words long you may write anywhere from 540 to 660 words.
Editing. Read your paper carefully to make sure it represents your best work. You may
make a few minor corrections by hand if necessary. If I am the first person to read your
paper, you are in trouble.
Now that youve passed english 110,
how many of these rules do you remembir?!
https://youtu.be/qtxXKQOX2Cs
https://youtu.be/R3cJ_u9pTw8?list=PLFhCyd0u4PXD3mktc9Y0lEkSQhW8h7gwB
https://youtu.be/PHWJKrXvAMw?list=PLFhCyd0u4PXD3mktc9Y0lEkSQhW8h7gw
B
https://youtu.be/b_9dlco80lc
https://youtu.be/XxWGRKFXLlE
https://youtu.be/BDQH_lFwgGA
Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9n1bNb62yJY
Stravinsky: Petruska
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sY-SIRvyHgI
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2GqGVkfUip8
https://youtu.be/uHo7-PMXf9Q
https://youtu.be/4OvzStZfeBg
https://youtu.be/TkgMDAltCoM
https://youtu.be/tEW1T5foR1g
https://youtu.be/wOJ3r0OqItw
A Students Credo
I recognize that I am a professional student. That means that I will earn the
grades for the courses in which I am enrolled. As a professional student I
understand that
5. I must hand in all assignments on time and I will make sure that they
represent my best work.
8. I must take organized and complete notes from both classroom lectures
and homework readings. I understand that all learning is cumulative. I will
also check my email regularly for any or all messages from my instructor or
the college.
10. I must remember that I will only get out of the course what I put into
it. As an adult I am responsible for me and my own academic success.
A mystery
A stimulus
An art
A craft
A business
A sport
A game
A mood modifier
A sleep aid
A science
A social event
A religious experience
A word enhancer
An escape from reality
An image enhancer
A form of communication
A celebration
A companion
A kinesthetic experience
A buying aid
A digestive aid
A learning experience
A time perception modifier
An adventure
A gateway to memories
An analog of experience
An analog of emotion
A series of wave forms
The Relatedness of Knowledge
While music is our main concern in this course, it is best not to take a
narrow view of this particular human activity. It might be interesting, as
well as profitable, to think about the relationships between music and
the other fields of study that are offered at our school. For example,
what can music tell us about mathematics and what can mathematics
tell us about music? Is medicine related to music? How about
economics?
Advertising/Public Relations
American Studies
Anthropology
Architecture
Art
Asian Studies
Biology
Black Studies
Chemical Engineering
Chemistry
Civil Engineering
Computer Science
Creative Writing
Earth & Atmospheric Science
Economics
Education
Electrical Engineering
English
Foreign Languages and Literature
History
Jewish Studies
Journalism
Latin American Studies
Mathematics
Mechanical Engineering
Media and Communication Arts
Medicine
Philosophy
Physics
Political Science
Psychology
Sociology
Theater & Speech
Womens Studies
The CIPA Formula
The When, Where, Why, What and Who of Music
In order to place a piece of music in the proper context you need to answer the
following questions:
When?
o Does the music sound like it comes from a particular time?
o Is it your time?
Where?
o Does the music sound like it comes from a particular place?
o Is it your place?
Why?
o Does this music have a purpose?
o Is it for dancing or for listening?
o Is it religious or secular?
What?
o What is the medium?
o Is it being sung and/or played?
o Is it a solo or an ensemble piece?
o Is it excited or calm?
o Is it intimate or monumental?
o Is it expository or developmental?
o Does it have one continuous mood or does it have contrasting
sections?
o Is it narrative (it has a program or story) or is it abstract?
Who?
o What do you know about the composer?
o What do you know about the performer?
How?
o How is the music coming to you and under what circumstances?
Some Themes of Life That Are Portrayed in Art
Birth Death
Motherhood Fatherhood
Grandmotherhood Grandfatherhood
Sisterhood Brotherhood
Friendship Enmity
Courtship Rejection
Marriage Divorce
Victory Defeat
Promotion Demotion
Work Rest
History Mythology
Wealth Poverty
Flora Fauna
Science Technology
Sports Diversions
Music Dancing
Hopes Fears
Kindness Cruelty
Heroism Cowardice
A MUSIC LISTENERS CHECKLIST
Rate and/or evaluate the following elements of music
1. Music is organized sound and silence. Sound is vibration. Sounds are pitches or
noises. Humans can hear vibrations from 20-20KHz.
3. Within this doubling we divide the sound space into scales. For example:
4. The two diatonic scales in common usage in Western music since 1600 are major
and minor. Their differences can be demonstrated by calculating the sequence of
whole steps (W) and half steps (H) starting from the tonic (note #1):
a. major W W H W W W H
b. minor (natural) W H W W H W W
5. Thus, the intervals (distance) from the tonic to the other tones are:
7. Three tones may be combined simultaneously to form a triad (basic harmonic unit):
The functional name of a triad is derived from the name of its root. Its number is,
likewise, derived from the scale step number of the root and is written in Roman
numerals. Triads may be inverted and/or rearranged (that is, the root does not
always have to be the bottom note and the third, the middle and the fifth, the top).
The most important triads are the tonic (I), the subdominant (IV), and the dominant
(V). Chords can be increased in size by the addition of 7ths, 9ths, 11ths, and 13ths.
Chromatic harmony uses chords from outside the scale.
b n w w
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
w # w w
b w w
& w w
w w
? w
w
You can calculate the frequency ratio of any interval by locating it on the harmonic series.
Find the following:
P 1 __1 : 1______ P 5 ________ Maj 3 ________ Min 3 ________ Maj 2 ________ Min 2 ________
P 8 __2 : 1______ P 4 ________ Min 6 ________ Maj 6 ________ Min 7 ________ Maj 7 ________
Fascinating Rhythms
Fascinating Rhythm,
You've got me on the go!
Fascinating Rhythm,
I'm all a-quiver.
The lyrics to the George and Ira Gershwin hit song from 1924 say it all. The
excitement of studying and performing music begins with rhythm.
Rhythm
Most music has at the heart of its rhythmic structure an underlying pulse
known as the beatthe steady, measured throbbing on which all the
rhythmic values are based. Most of the music of the past four hundred
years is metrical; that is, the beats are grouped into recognizable patterns
the most common of which are two beats per group (duple meter) or three
beats per group (triple meter). These groupings are known as measures and
are separated by bar lines when notated. The first beat of each group gets
an accent and is performed with some increased level of energy. This first
beat is known as the downbeat because conductors indicate the beginning
of each measure with a downward motion of the hand or baton. The last
beat of each measure is known as the upbeat and the conductors hand or
baton should move accordingly. In essence, all beats other than the
downbeat are considered upbeatsduple meter is counted DOWN-up
while triple meter is counted DOWN-up-up. When triple meter moves very
quickly it is often counted in one.
Time Signatures
The time signature for marching music is 2/4 in which every measure has
rhythmic symbols that add up to the equivalent of two quarter notes. When
you are dancing the waltz the music you hear is written in 3/4 time. A great
deal of music is written in 4/4 or what is known as common time, indicated
by an upper case C instead of the fraction. In 2/4 time the first beat is
accented and the second is not (ONE, two, ONE, two or LEFT-right, LEFT-
right). In 3/4 time the first beat is accented and the two that follow are not
(ONE-two-three, ONE-two-three). In 4/4 time the primary accent occurs on
the downbeat and there is a subsidiary accent on the third beat that begins
the second half of the grouping (ONE-two-three-four, ONE-two-three-four).
There are many pieces that have time signatures that use the eighth note to
represent the beat. Perhaps the most common of these is 6/8. This is a form
of duple meter in which each half of the measure is divided into three beats.
We apply the term compound to 6/8, 9/8, or 12/8 meters that have triple
divisions of the beat. In 6/8 time the main accent is on beat one and the
subsidiary accent is on beat four (ONE-two-three-four-five-six). You may
occasionally see a composition written in 3/8 time and the use of the less
common eighth value usually indicates a desire on the composers part for a
performance that feels lighter than 3/4 time.
You may occasionally run across music that uses the half note as its
common note value. The most common of these is known as cut time
(2/2 or ) and is generally used for music that would ordinarily be written
in 4/4 but is moving too fast to warrant the counting of the weak beats (two
and four). The music in cut time looks exactly the same as 4/4 but the weak
beats are subordinated even further. The tempo often affects the way in
which music will be perceived or performed. A piece in a moderate 3/4 time
will be counted in groups of three beats but at a higher rate of speed it may
be counted in one.
Rests are more difficult to perform than notes because we must wait the
appropriate amount of time without making a sound. For most of us that is
often very hard to do. A rest does not mean do nothing, it means count.
The longer the rest, the more patient you must be. It is often helpful to say
rest when you are having difficulty with this form of negative sound space.
Tempo
Tempo refers to the speed of the beat. At the beginning of each composition
there is either a word or metronome marking that indicates how fast the
piece should be performed. Your first attempt to perform any activity in this
book should be done at half speed. If you practice too quickly your
performance may be filled with mistakes that are very hard to un-learn
later. Very few of the etudes in this book have tempo designations because it
is expected that you will begin to practice each one of them at a pace that is
comfortable. When you have mastered the material at that speed you may
gradually speed up the tempo until it reaches the appropriate speed.
Accuracy comes first; speed comes later.
Metronome markings indicate the number of beats per minute. For example,
march time (2/4) is usually performed at quarter note equals 120 which
means that there are 120 beats per minute or two beats per second. Every
serious musician owns a metronome. When you practice with a metronome
it keeps you honest and tests your ability to stay in tempo.
You may also find that the tempo is indicated by a word, often in a foreign
language such as Italian, French, or German. Here are some of the common
Italian terms in order of speed:
Gravevery slow
Largoslow and broad
Lentomoderately slow
Adagioslow and easy
Andanteat a comfortable walking pace
Moderatomoderate (not too fast and not too slow)
Allegrettomoderately fast
Allegrofast
Vivacefast and lively
Prestovery fast
Prestissimoas fast as possible
If you wish the performer to slow down gradually use the term ritardando.
The term accelerando is used to indicate a gradual speeding up. From time
to time, you may wish to employ these in the performance of a particular
rhythmic etude.
We join two notes together by the use of a tie, a curved line connecting two
note heads. For example, in 4/4 time a half note may be extended by tying it
to another note. To create a note that lasts three beats you may either tie a
half note to a quarter or merely place a dot after the note head. This dot
represents the quarter to which it is tied and is a form of abbreviation. The
dot always represents half the value of the note that is dotted. Therefore, a
dotted quarter note is equal in length to a quarter note tied to an eighth.
And, a double dotted quarter is equal to a quarter tied to an eighth tied to a
sixteenth.
Dynamics
No dynamic markings have been used in this chapter. I suggest that when
you are preparing a performance of any of these activities that you make
your own decisions about volume. Experiment until you find a pleasing
balance of soft and loud. Obviously, the emotional effects created by
dynamic manipulation will greatly affect your listeners. A phrase performed
pianissimo will send an entirely different message when the dynamic level is
increased to fortissimo.
Counting Rhythms
Sometimes it helps to scat sing those rhythms that are problematic. For
example, in music that uses time signatures with the quarter note
representing the beat you can use the numbers of the beats, and for 8th
notes on the second half of the beats, e (say ee) for the second 16th, and
a (say ah) for the fourth 16th. Here is an example in 4/4 meter:
1234|1&2&3&4&|1e&a2e&a3e&a4e&a|
When you encounter music that moves too rapidly for you to articulate
comfortably it is time for double- and triple-tonguing. For rhythmic figures
that are divisible by 2, use either of the following double-tonguing
techniques. For light double-tonguing practice saying tahkah or tah
kahtahkah. For a heavier sound use duhguhduhguh. When the
rhythmic figure is divisible by 3, use either tahtahkah or duhduh
guh. Practice these tonguing techniques, which are commonly employed by
woodwind and brass players, slowly at first and then increase the speed
until you are so good that you can amaze your friends and family.
The World of pitch
OK. You are finally learning to read music. Why you waited this long nobody knows.
Maybe you thought it would be hard to do. Well, you are about to discover that it is
not. There are two elemental aspects to music notation--pitch and rhythm. Pitch
refers to the tones we make with our voice or an instrument. When the sound
vibrates at a steady rate it produces what we call tones. We write these tones
on what we call a staff--five lines and the four spaces between them. When sounds
seem to go up, they go up the page and vice versa. The music you see below begins
with that fancy squiggle we call a treble clef. It is used for all the music on the right
side of the keyboard. It is also called a G clef because it tells us where to find the
note G--on the second line from the bottom. Lucky for you the musical alphabet
only goes from A to G.
For demonstration purposes I have written the names of the notes for you in the
first half of this piece. Your job is to write the names in the second half. You will
notice that notes can go above or below the staff. If we need to, we can add what are
called leger lines for notes like the B in measure 7.
Play these notes on your keyboard. It should not be too hard as they are almost all
white notes. The black notes between them are called flats and sharps. If you go up
from F to G (see m.11) the black note between them is called F sharp (#). If you go
down from G to F (see m. 15) the black note between them is called G flat (@).
& 44
G F E D E F G A B C D B C G C B A G
&
6
w #
A G F E D E F B C
12
& b
w
Measuring Intervals
The distance between two notes is known as an interval. We measure this distance
using a scale. For example, the interval between C and D is known as a second
because D is the second note of the C major scale. All intervals have two names--
one tells the quality and the other tells the scale step. If you are measuring an
interval using a major scale then you end up with the intervals shown on the first
staff below. The intervals derived from minor and other scales are shown on the
second staff. These interval measurements can begin on any note of the chromatic
scale. Play these intervals on your keyboard to hear how each one sounds. Each
interval has a different character. They serve as the foundation of all harmony.
You will need to be able to recognize intervals with speed an accuracy if you want
to succeed as a musician. For added appreciation, play the note C on your
keyboard and sing the rising and falling major scale against it. Then try the
chromatic scale.
unison major 2nd major 3rd perfect 4th perfect 5th major 6th major 7th octave
& 44 ww ww w w w w
ww ww w w w w
minor 2nd minor 3rd aug. 4th dim. 5th aug. 5th minor 6th aug. 6th minor 7th
bw #w bw
9
& b ww b ww # ww b ww # ww w w w
enharmonic enharmonic enharmonic
Various Scales
4
Four-note
&4 b b b b
Pentatonic
& b
b
5
Whole tone
& # # b
# b b
11
Major
&
15
Natural minor Melodic minor Harmonic minor
& b b b b
b b
17
Octatonic 1 Octatonic 2
&
b # # b b n # b
23
Chromatic
& # # # # b n
27
Scales derived from modes
Ionian Dorian Phrygian
4 1
&4 b b
2
b
1 2 3 3
b b b
& # b b b
4 1 1 2 2 3
b
7
Melodic Minor
& # b b
4 2 1 3 2 1
b b
13
& b b b b
3 1 3 2 4 3
b # b
b
19
Harmonic minor
n n n
2 5 1 5 3 5
& b b b b b
b
25
& # b n
4 5
31
Some Pentatonic Scales
&4
6
6 flat
& b b b
4
2 flat
& b
b
7
2 and 6 flat
& b b b
b
10
3 flat
&
b b
13
3 and 6 flat
& b b
b b
16
2, 3, and 6 flat
& b b b
19
5 flat
&
b b b
22
2 and 5 flat
& b
b b b
25
2, 3, and 5 flat 2, 5, and 6 flat 3, 5, and 6 flat
& b b b b b b b b b
28
Harmonizing with Triads
The construction of triads
The basic harmonic unit in tonal music is the triad, a three-note chord built of
3rds. Harmony based on 3rds is labeled tertian (i.e., every other note in scalar
motion). The note on which the chord is built is called the root; another note is
added a 3rd above the root and is called the third; the other member of the
chord lies a 5th above the root (and a 3rd above the third) and is called the fifth
(see Example 5-1, root position). In every triad there are three intervallic
relationships: between the bottom note and the middle note, between the
bottom note and the top note, and between the middle note and the top note.
Each of these intervals contributes to the way your brain processes the aural
data it receives, but the intervals measured from the bottom are the most
critical because the lowest sounding note is the harmonic foundation.
A triad may appear with any of its three notes in the lowest position we call
the bass. We use this appellation even though it may not actually be in the
bass voice or bass clef. When the root is lowest, the triad is most stable and is
said to be in root position. As such we have 3rds between each of the notes and
a 5th between the root and the top note. It is important to remember that the
root is not always the same as the bass (the lowest sounding note). The root
and bass are the same only in root position.
If we rearrange the triad, making the third the lowest note and the root the top
note, the triad is in first inversion. In this position there is a 3rd between the
bass and the middle note, a 6th between the bass and the root, and a 4th
between the middle note and the root. This is a different collection of intervals
than that found in root position. They both have the same root but provide the
listener with two different aural experiences. In this inversion the triad is
somewhat less stable than it was in root position.
When the fifth is lowest, the triad is in second inversion. The special sound of
the second inversion results from the 4th between the bass and the root, the 6th
between the bass and the third, and the 3rd between the root and the third.
Later, we will see that the fourth between the bass and the root creates a
sonority that is quite unstable and must be handled with care.
Example 5-1. Inversions of Triads
ww ww
root position first inversion second inversion
& www w w
third
root root
fifth fifth fifth
third third
root
(5) 6 6
(3) (3) 4
In Example 5-1, the intervals above the bass are indicated for each position of
the triad. This practice is known as figured bass in which the Arabic numerals
serve as a convenient shorthand label for each form. This system, also known
as thoroughbass, was essential to the instrumental chamber music of the
Baroque Period during which the harpsichord player, as accompanist, often
had the bass line and Arabic numerals and was expected to improvise the rest
of the texture based on the information provided. In their most common form
triads are abbreviated as follows:
The triad is not always presented with all of the notes within an octave, called
close position, as in Example 5-1 above. Sometimes chords appear in open
position, with the notes farther apart (more than an octave). Triads must
always be made from letter combinations of root, 3rd, and 5th regardless of the
accidentals used. For example, a C minor triad is comprised of the notes C, E@,
and G, never C, D#, and G. Only the following combinations are possible
(practice reciting these combinations to assure accuracy):
There are four types (qualities) of triads whose names depend on the interval
between the root and 3rd and interval between the root and 5th:
In Example 5-2 we see the four types of triads built on the root G. Only major
and minor triads may be used as tonics. The diminished triad only appears as
iio, vio, and viio while the augmented triad is occasionally used as an altered
form of the dominant.
P5 P5
M3 m3
b5 #5
m3 M3
Every triad has two namesthe name of the root and the name of the quality.
Thus, a major triad with a root of G is named G major and is notated by the
capital letter G. For major triads it is not necessary to indicate the quality in
the labelif we see just the letter G we will know it refers to G major. A minor
triad with a root of G is named G minor and is notated as Gm. Use + for
augmented (or aug) and o for diminished (or dim). Do not use the archaic
system that assigns a plus (+) to major and a minus (-) to minor. The minuses
that students write on their homework and test papers tend to get too small to
read clearly and the negative appellation is an inappropriate value judgment.
Chord inversions can be notated by adding the bass pitch after a slash. For
example, Am/C indicates an A minor triad with C in the bass (first inversion).
This use of chord symbols is called lead sheet notation and is common in
popular sheet music and jazz scores and is always written above the chord
(Example 5-3). The simplest lead sheet scores do not contain information about
inversions, but you would do well to use the slashes when appropriate because
the bass line is so important in tonal music.
#3
G Em Am/C D G Em C G/D D# Em
& 4 q q q q. e q Q Q Q q. e q
We use Roman numerals to identify the scale step on which the triad is built
and Arabic numerals to indicate the inversion. In this text the Roman
numerals will appear in uppercase to represent major and augmented triads
and in lowercase for minor and diminished. Thus, a C major chord in first
inversion (with E in the bass) in the key of C major is labeled I6. The Roman
numeral I indicates that the root of the triad (C) is the first note (tonic) of the
key (C major). The Arabic numeral 6 indicates that the triad is in first
inversionthat there is a 6th between the bass and the root.
Note that the lead sheet name is the same no matter what key the triad is in.
(Cm is the label for C-E@-G whether it is the tonic in C minor, the submediant
in E@ major, or the subdominant in G minor. Note, also, that the same scale
degree indicates a different triad in different keys (e.g., a I chord in CM is a C
major triad, but a I chord in FM is an F major triad). In Example 5-4 we see
that the same three triads are labeled differently according to the key in which
they are found.
www # www
C Em G C Em G
To translate lead sheet notation into scale step notation, use a Roman numeral
for the scale step of the root of the triad. Indicate the quality of the chord by
the use of upper or lowercase. Then, add figured bass notation where
necessary to show inversions. For example, the first chord in Example 5-5 is G
major. In the key of GM a G major triad is I. The second chord, Em, is vi in
GM. The third chord is Am/C, the supertonic in the first inversion (ii6).
#3
G Em Am/C D G Em C G/D D# Em
& 4 q q q q. e q Q Q Q q. e q
GM: I vi iifl V I vi IV V( @ ) (vii) vi
When using scale step notation, write the Roman numeral only under the beat
on which the chord first appears. It is not necessary to repeat the Roman
numeral if the chord is repeated. As a general rule, try to write as little as
possible to keep your labeling easy to read. If the inversion changes on such a
repetition, change only the figured bass notationthe purpose being to reveal
the basic harmonic structure as represented by chord changes in a legible
manner without cluttering the page with redundant notations. In Example 5-6
you will notice that 5/3 is needed under the third chord to show a return to
root position.
& w ww w
w w
? ww ww ww
I - 6 - 53
NOT I Ifl I
The quality of triads in major keys
As may be seen in Example 5-7, major keys contain three major triads (I, IV,
and V), three minor triads (ii, iii, and vi), and one diminished (vii). This
distribution results in a hierarchy of importance. The major chords are the
primary triads, the three triads you would learn if you could only learn three
chords. There are four secondary chords and the unique one is vii, the only one
of this family of chords that is diminished.
## ww www www
D!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Em!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!F#m!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!G!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Bm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!C#o
The family of chords in minor is larger than in major due to the three forms of
the minor scale. By comparing the triads in natural minor (Example 5-8) with
those in major (Example 5-7) you will notice that in minor the tonic,
subdominant, and dominant chords are all minorthe opposite of their
qualities in major. Also, now it is the supertonic that is diminished, not the
leading tone (which is replaced by the major subtonic). The mediant and
submediant, which were minor, are now major. In many ways, major and
minor chord collections seem to present two polarities.
www www
Dm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!E o!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!F!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Gm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Am!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Bb!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!C
www
& b www www www www
Dm: i ii III iv Vm VI VII
The natural minor scale, formerly known as the Aeolian mode, contains a
seventh tone that is a whole step below the tonic. Therefore, dominant
harmonies built on that scale do not contain a leading tone and create an
archaic modal sound, rather than a tonal one, when moving to the tonic.
The problem of weak dominants is fixed by the addition of the leading tone to V
and vii and the result is known as harmonic minor. In a sense, harmonic minor
borrows the V and vii chords from major (Example 5-9).
w ww ww # www
Dm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Eo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!F!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Gm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Bb!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!C#o
b w w w #
& ww ww w w w
w w w
Dm: i ii III iv V VI vii
The need to harmonize the raised 6th and 7th steps in ascending melodic minor
creates an interesting admixture of triads that must be employed with great
caution. Example 5-10 reveals that the ii, IV, V, and vii are the same as in
major. An augmented mediant and a diminished submediant have been added
to the harmonic palette and are quite rare.
w w w
w
Dm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Em!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!F+!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!G!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Bo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!C#o
b n w # w n
& www ww ww w w w
w # w n w
w # w
Dm: i iim III+ IV V vio vii
Musical Instruments
Woodwinds:
Piccolo,
flute,
alto
flute,
recorder
Oboe,
English
horn
Trumpet
French
horn
Trombone,
bass
trombone
Tuba
Strings:
Violin,
viola,
cello,
string
bass
Guitar,
lute,
mandolin
Harp
Percussion:
Timpani
Keyboards:
Piano,
harpsichord,
celesta,
synthesizer,
organ
Western Classical Music History
(Almost everything you need to know on one page)
Renaissance (1450-1600)
Baroque (1600-1750)
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart Franz Joseph Haydn Symphony, Sonata, Art song, Rondo
String quartet, Minuet & trio, Piano
Ludwig van Beethoven Franz Schubert Symphonic poem, Etude, Prelude, singspiel
Franz Liszt Frederic Chopin Fantasia, Waltz, Cyclical symphony
Robert Schumann Johannes Brahms Nationalism, Popularism, Boehm system
Hector Berlioz Gioacchino Rossini Chromaticism, NHT dominance
Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky Giacomo Puccini Sonata-allegro form, clarinet, ballet
Felix Mendelssohn Gustav Mahler Miniature/monumental, saxophone
Richard Strauss Alexander Scriabin Exoticism, mysticism, verismo
Giuseppe Verdi Richard Wagner Leitmotiv, continuous music
Modern (1900-2050)
Composers throughout the ages have acquired valuable insights into the
compositional process by looking at the music of their contemporaries and
predecessors. A great deal of their education is spent listening to music and
studying scores. Early in their careers, all composers employ a good deal of
imitation because, in our business, it traditionally is the greatest form of
flattery. When we hear something we like in someone elses music we want to
use it in our next composition. The goal of every composer is to move beyond
the period of imitation to a discovery of his or her own individual voice. No
composer was ever completely original because no one grows up in a musical
vacuum. You have been surrounded by music since birth and all those
influences form the foundation of what will hopefully become your own style.
No one ever learned to be a composer from reading a book. Budding composers
learn their craft by working with an experienced teacher who can evaluate the
myriad subtleties of the compositional process and offer valuable suggestions
and corrections.
If you are not curious about how music is put together, stop here and close the
book. The reason we analyze music is to find out how the music we enjoy
listening to is constructedto tell us why it sounds the way it does. The
process of analysis involves the labeling of agreed upon components as well as
the interpretation of the relationship of these materials to one another. As
analysts we must try to get inside the piece to see what makes it work the way
it does. Every compositional process is a mind game that the composer plays
with himself. Every game has an objective, game pieces, rules, and moves. The
intellectual joy of every theorist is to postulate about what kind of game plan a
certain composer may have employed in the act of writing a particular piece.
The interesting thing about music composition is that although there are
general stylistic guidelines which composers in particular periods seem to
follow, each piece of music is a unique collection of compositional choices.
Therefore, from the study of many individual pieces comes an understanding of
general compositional strategies as well as an appreciation for those special
moments of unexplainable genius.
q Structural units
The smallest unit of structure is the note. A small number of notes may be
grouped together as a motive (or motif), a collection of rhythmic, melodic,
and/or harmonic materials that serves as the seed that will generate the
material of the rest of the piece. A good example is the G-G-G-E motive at the
beginning of Beethovens Symphony No. 5. All of the materials of this first
movement are derived from these four notes. This is what we call
developmental music because, like a fertilized egg, everything grows from this
single idea.
The next largest structural unit is the phrase. It is the equivalent of a sentence
and concludes with a sense of repose we call a cadence. Everything we do in
music is related to phrases; their composition, analysis, and performance.
Phrases may be joined in a pairing we call a period. Generally, a period
consists of an antecedent phrase that makes a musical statement and is
followed by a consequent phrase that responds to it. Two related periods may
be joined together to form a double period, the equivalent of a four-line stanza
in poetry. In fact, there is much about the structure of music that reminds us
of poetry and vice versa. Tonal compositions may have as few as four phrases
and larger pieces, such as the movement of a symphony or sonata, may have
as many as the composer desires. In larger structures like these the next
structural division is called a section that may comprise any number of
periods, double periods, or unattached phrases. If it cadences on the tonic it is
called a closed section and if it ends with a half cadence or in a key other than
the tonic it is considered an open section. A piece may have any number of
sections. If it comprises two sections it is in binary form (A-A1). The most
common ternary form (three sections) has an A-B-A1 structure. There is no
limit to the number of sections that a composer may employ. When
diagramming structure we use lowercase letters for phrases and uppercase for
sections.
q What is a phrase?
Any definition of the word phrase is best kept loose and open because they,
like shoes, come in all sizes, shapes, and colors. A phrase may be as short as a
measure (see Chopins Prelude No. 20 in C minor) or as long as the composer
needs to finish the idea. It could be as much as sixteen bars or even more.
Phrase length is often related to meter and tempo but generally the standard is
four or eight bars. Most theorists will admit that it is impossible to come up
with a definition that fits all types. The more phrases you analyze, the more
you will appreciate the problem.
Some four-bar phrases cannot be subdivided because the entire phrase is one
continuous musical idea. Other phrases may be constructed of two two-bar
motives (notated 2+2). Another common type of subdivision is one in which a
one-bar motive is followed by another and then by one which is two bars long
(1+1+2). Those of you who are familiar with 20th-century popular songs by the
likes of George Gershwin, Jerome Kern, and Richard Rodgers will know that a
32-bar form (8, 8, 8, 8) was the standard they all used. Occasionally, the fourth
phrase was extended by four bars to make the piece 36 bars long (8, 8, 8, 12).
The process by which a phrase ends is called a cadence, a word that comes
from the Italian, cadere, to fall. It refers to the manner in which the rhythm,
melody, and harmony work together to give a feeling of conclusion, or lack
thereof, at the end of a phrase. One of the most important compositional
strategies is the creation and sequencing of cadences. Cadences come in all
strengths, from those that convincingly conclude the piece to those that are
only a momentary breath pause between phrases. Composers generally know
where each phrase is going to end the same way pilots know their destination
before takeoff.
If the melody ends on ^1, the tonic, the melodic component of the cadence is
most conclusive. The use of the other members of the tonic triadthe 3rd or
the 5thcan serve as resting points but are less conclusive and are considered
imperfect. The use of other scale steps at the cadence (for example, ^2, ^4, or
^6) indicate that at least one more phrase is needed before the piece can end
successfully. The use of ^7 gives little sense of repose because, as the leading
tone, it demands an immediate resolution to the tonic.
When a phrase ends with a progression from the dominant to the submediant
(either Vvi or VVI), the cadence is called deceptive because V does not go to
I, but resolves, instead, to a chord which substitutes for it, a tonic substitute.
The deceptive cadence seems to demand that the next phrase provide the
expected resolution to the tonic after a strongly diatonic progression of chords.
Some theorists do not consider this to be a cadence at all and prefer to label it
as a caesura because of its lack of conclusiveness. It is a highly effective way of
prolonging the piece by practicing tonic avoidance and is featured prominently
in many Romantic Period pieces such as Wagners Tristan und Isolde.
The structure of large musical forms is not dissimilar from that of large literary
works. A novel comprises chapters, paragraphs, sentences, phrases, words,
and letters. In music we have movements, sections, periods, phrases,
subphrases, and notes. The following discussion relates to the most common
forms employed by the composers of the common practice period. Many of
these forms are still in use today. They may range in size from sixteen
measures to six hundred. What is significant about the proportion is the
amount of time the composer has allotted for the statement, restatement, and
development of ideas. Some works may be considered expository because they
present lovely melodies and harmonies but little is done to develop these
materials. At the other end of the spectrum are purely developmental works
that may begin with seemingly inconsequential ideas but, as time goes by,
these ideas grow and develop in extraordinary ways. On larger canvases we get
to see these ideas go through a variety of transformations much like what
happens to the protagonist in a great drama. At the end of the play that
character has been transformed in some significant way that has moved and
transformed the audience as well
q Binary form
Tonal composers have employed a wide variety of musical forms over the past
four hundred years. The simplest of these is known as binary form because it
contains two sections. There are equal binary forms where both halves are the
same length and unequal ones in which the second part is longer than the
first. The dance music of the Baroque Period is a rich source of binary forms
whose A sections usually ranged from eight to twenty-four measures depending
on the tempo of the piece. If the composition is in major the A section may end
with a cadence on V or in the key of the dominant. If it is in minor the
modulation is to the relative major. Almost without fail, there is a repeat sign
and the section is played again. The second part (A1) uses melodic material
very similar to the first in a more adventurous harmonic framework and ends
with an authentic cadence in the tonic. This section is also repeated. A form
known as rounded binary is notable because the second part features a return
to the opening material in the original key (||: A :||: A1 A :||).
q Ternary form
Perhaps the most important ternary form of the 18th century was the minuet &
trio that was essentially an A-B-A1 arrangement. A binary form minuet (A) was
paired with a second minuet (B) that provided just a touch of thematic contrast
in a related key. At the end of the second minuet, referred to as the trio
because the texture often thinned to three lines, there is the indication da
capo (to the head) that tells the musicians to return to the first minuet that
they play without the repeats. In the Romantic period, beginning with
Beethoven, this form got continually faster and more complex evolving into
what we now think of as a true scherzo. In the early 18th century the term was
applied to lighter works in 2/4 time. With Haydn it became a tempo
designation and later it became a replacement for the minuet. In the 19th
century the same form was often used for its most popular dance, the waltz.
q Rondo form
There are a number of different rondo forms. What they all have in common is
that they begin and end with an A section. Where they differ is the number and
nature of the sections that alternate with restatements or variations of A. The
simplest rondo has an ABACA structure and this may be extended to A-B-A-C-
A-D-A. The arch, or bow, rondo form has the symmetrical structure of A-B-A-C-
A-B-A. Occasionally, in more complex rondos where the A section may be
rather long, the form was truncated by the removal of the A after the C
resulting in an A-B-A-C-B-A structure. In listening to, or analyzing, rondos it is
interesting to see in what condition the A section returns and how closely the
alternating sections are related to each other, if at all. The alternating sections
are very often in related keys and occasionally a restatement of A may be in the
opposite mode or it may be modified by change of register, dynamics, or
instrumentation. This form was often used for the final movements in sonatas
and symphonies.
q Sonata form
Sonata form, or sonata-allegro form, is the most frequently used complex form
in the instrumental music of the Classic/Romantic Period. Almost every first
movement of untold numbers of sonatas, symphonies, concertos and string
quartets employed this form that has a long history of evolutionary process. It
has also been used for second and fourth movements as well. If there is a third
movement it is usually in ternary form (minuet & trio). Sonata form is more of
a design concept than a prescribed structure. Its flexibility has given rise to
myriad variants. A huge number of books and articles have been written about
this subject and you can get to them later. The following discussion will give
you a general sense of the problem and your further investigations of particular
examples will teach you about the details. Basically, the form is a large
rounded binary comprising an exposition that may be repeated, and a
development section followed by a recapitulation that may also be repeated.
Frequently, the momentum at the end of the recapitulation is too great to allow
the composer to conclude there so a coda is added. This section was originally
quite brief and practiced a kind of deception. Its use of primary materials leads
us to believe that this will be a second exposition but turns out to be an
abbreviated version of group I and brings the piece to a complete stop. Codas
were never the same after Beethovens Symphony No. 5 in which the coda of the
first movement, which turns out to be another development section, is larger
than the exposition and is followed by its own codetta (little coda).
q Sonata-rondo form
The concept behind theme and variations is quite simple although nothing is
simple when it comes to the creativity of great composers. The form begins with
the theme, often in simple binary form, followed by a series of variations that
may, or may not, be the same length as the theme. At the end there may be a
reprise of the theme or not. There is no prescribed number of variations that
may be employed. There may be as few as three or as many as thirty-two. This
form gives the composer the opportunity to apply extreme inventiveness to a
single musical idea. The character of the variations may cover a wide spectrum
of emotional states from slow and contemplative to ecstatic virtuosity. The
basic jazz form of head-solos-head is a descendent of this practice. A
composition that employs the theme and variations structure could stand
alone or be part of a larger multi-movement work.
In this form, the theme does not have to be original. Countless composers have
taken someone elses theme, or a folk song, and played around with it, as did
Haydn in the second movement of his Surprise Symphony. The operative
concept in the execution of this form and, indeed, all musical activities is the
word play. We play the piano or we play around with musical ideas. The
playfulness that is so much a part of childhood is, thankfully, still alive and
well in the spirits of adult composers and performers. The perfect depiction of
this playfulness occurs in the film Amadeus in the scene where Mozart listens
to the uninspired little piece that Salieri wrote for the Emperor to perform and
then proceeds to sit at the piano and transform the dull ditty into a delightful
bonbon.
A Geocentric View From CCNY
Music was an essential part of civic, religious, and courtly life in the Renaissance. The
rich interchange of ideas in Europe, as well as political, economic, and religious events
in the period 14001600 led to major changes in styles of composing, methods of
disseminating music, new musical genres, and the development of musical
instruments. The most important music of the early Renaissance was composed for
use by the churchpolyphonic (made up of several simultaneous melodies) masses
and motets in Latin for important churches and court chapels. By the end of the
sixteenth century, however, patronage was split among many areas: the Catholic
Church, Protestant churches and courts, wealthy amateurs, and music printingall
were sources of income for composers.
The early fifteenth century was dominated initially by English and then Northern
European composers. The Burgundian court was especially influential, and it
attracted composers and musicians from all over Europe. The most important of these
was Guillaume Du Fay (13971474), whose varied musical offerings included motets
and masses for church and chapel services, many of whose large musical structures
were based on existing Gregorian chant. His many small settings of French poetry
display a sweet melodic lyricism unknown until his era. With his command of large-
scale musical form, as well as his attention to secular text-setting, Du Fay set the
stage for the next generations of Renaissance composers._
By about 1500, European art music was dominated by Franco-Flemish composers, the
most prominent of whom was Josquin des Prez (ca. 14501521). Like many leading
composers of his era, Josquin traveled widely throughout Europe, working for patrons
in Aix-en-Provence, Paris, Milan, Rome, Ferrara, and Cond-sur-L'Escaut. The
exchange of musical ideas among the Low Countries, France, and Italy led to what
could be considered an international European style. On the one hand, polyphony or
multi-voiced music with its horizontal contrapuntal style continued to develop in
complexity. At the same time, harmony based on a vertical arrangement of intervals,
including thirds and sixths, was explored for its full textures and suitability for
accompanying a vocal line. Josquin's music epitomized these trends, with Northern-
style intricate polyphony using canons, preexisting melodies, and other compositional
structures smoothly amalgamated with the Italian bent for artfully setting words with
melodies that highlight the poetry rather than masking it with complexity. Josquin,
like Du Fay, composed primarily Latin masses and motets in a seemingly endless
variety of styles. His secular output included settings of courtly French poetry, like Du
Fay, but also arrangements of French popular songs, instrumental music, and Italian
frottole._
With the beginning of the sixteenth century, European music saw a number of
momentous changes. In 1501, a Venetian printer named Ottaviano Petrucci published
the first significant collection of polyphonic music, the Harmonice Musices Odhecaton
A. Petrucci's success led eventually to music printing in France, Germany, England,
and elsewhere. Prior to 1501, all music had to be copied by hand or learned by ear.
Music books were owned exclusively by religious establishments or extremely wealthy
courts and households. After Petrucci, while these books were not inexpensive, it
became possible for far greater numbers of people to own them and to learn to read
music._
At about the same period, musical instrument technology led to the development of
the viola da gamba, a fretted, bowed string instrument. Amateur European musicians
of means eagerly took up the viol, as well as the lute, the recorder, the harpsichord (in
various guises, including the spinet and virginal), the organ, and other instruments.
The viola da gamba and recorder were played together in consorts or ensembles, and
to facilitate this often were produced in families or sets, with different sizes playing the
different lines. Publications by Petrucci and others supplied these players for the first
time with notated music (as opposed to the improvised music played by professional
instrumentalists). The sixteenth century saw the development of instrumental music
such as the canzona, ricercare, fantasia, variations, and contrapuntal dance-inspired
compositions, for both soloists and ensembles, as a truly distinct and independent
genre with its own idioms separate from vocal forms and practical dance
accompaniment._
From about 1520 through the end of the sixteenth century, composers throughout
Europe employed the polyphonic language of Josquin's generation in exploring
musical expression through the French chanson, the Italian madrigal, the German
tenorlieder, the Spanish villancico, and the English song, as well as in sacred music.
The Reformation and Counter-Reformation directly affected the sacred polyphony of
these countries. The Protestant revolutions (mainly in Northern Europe) varied in their
attitudes toward sacred music, bringing such musical changes as the introduction of
relatively simple German-language hymns (or chorales) sung by the congregation in
Lutheran services. Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (1525/261594), maestro di
cappella at the Cappella Giulia at Saint Peter's in Rome, is seen by many as the iconic
High Renaissance composer of Counter-Reformation sacred music, which features
clear lines, a variety of textures, and a musically expressive reverence for its sacred
texts. The English (and Catholic) composer William Byrd (15401623) straddled both
worlds, composing Latin-texted works for the Catholic Church, as well as English-
texted service music for use at Elizabeth I's Chapel Royal._
Rebecca Arkenberg
Department of Education,
The Metropolitan Museum of Art
How the Phonograph Changed Music Forever
Smithsonian.com
Much like streaming music services today are reshaping our relationship with music,
Edison's invention redefined the entire industry
These days music is increasingly freein just about every sense of the word.
Right now, if you decided you wanted to hear, say, Uptown Funk, you could be listening
to it in seconds. Its up free on YouTube, streamable on Spotify or buyable for about two
bucks on iTunes. The days of scavenging in record stores and slowly, expensively building
a music library are over. Its also become easier than ever to make music. Every Mac
ships with a copy of GarageBand, software powerful enough to let anyone record an
album.
Are these trends a good thingfor musicians, for us, for the world of audible art?
Now the arguments begin. Some cultural critics say our new world has liberated music,
creating listeners with broader taste than ever before. Others worry that finding music is
too frictionless, and that without having to scrimp and save to buy an album, we care less
about music: No pain, no gain. If you own all the music ever recorded in the entire
history of the world, asked the novelist Nick Hornby in a column for Billboard, then who
are you?
Artists fight over digital music too. Many say it impoverishes them, as the relatively fat
royalties of radio and CD give way to laughably tiny micropayments from streaming
companies, where a band might get mere thousandths of a penny from their label when a
fan streams its song. Other artists disagree, arguing that giving away your music for free
online makes it easier to build a global fan base avid for actually giving you money.
A confusing time, to be sure. But its certainly no more confusing than the upheaval that
greeted a much older music technology: the phonograph. Back in the 19th century, it
caused fights and joy tooas it forever transformed the face of music.
Its almost hard to reconstruct how different music was before the phonograph. Back in
the mid-1800s, if you wanted to hear a song, you had only one option: live. You listened
while someone played it, or else you played it yourself.
That changed in 1877 when Thomas Edison unveiled his phonograph. It wasnt the first
such device to record and play back audio, but it was the first generally reliable one:
scratchy and nearly inaudible by modern standards, but it worked. Edison envisioned a
welter of uses, including for business, to make Dolls speak sing cry or to record the last
words of dying persons. But in 1878 he made a prediction: The phonograph will
undoubtedly be liberally devoted to music.
He was right. Within a few years, entrepreneurs began putting phonograph recordings
mostly on wax cylindersinto coin-in-slot machines on city streets, where passersby
could listen to several minutes of audio: jokes, monologues, songs. They were an instant
hit; one machine in Missouri hauled in $100 in a week. The next obvious step was selling
people recordings. But of what?
At first, nearly everything. Early phonography was a crazy hodgepodge of material. It was
all over the place, says Jonathan Sterne, a professor of communication studies at McGill
University who wrote The Audible Past. It would have been vaudeville stars, people
laughing, people telling jokes and artistic whistling. An example was Uncle Josh
Weathersbys Visit to New York, a skit that poked fun at urban mores by having a
country hick visit the big city. Meanwhile, in the wake of the relatively recent Civil War,
marching music was in vogue, so military bands recorded their works.
Soon, though, hits emergedand genres. In 1920, the song Crazy Blues by Mamie
Smith sold one million copies in six months, a monster hit that helped create blues as a
category. Jazz followed, and hillbilly music, too. If people were going to buy music,
producers realized, theyd want some predictability, so music had to slot into a known
form. One surprise hit was opera. In 1903, in an attempt to eradicate the phonographs
working-class vaudeville associations, the Victor Talking Machine Company recorded the
European tenor Enrico Carusoso successfully that labels began frantically cranking out
copies. Why has this great interest and enthusiasm for Opera so suddenly developed?
asked one journalist in 1917 in National Music Monthly. Almost every layman will
answer with the two words, the phonograph.
For one thing, it got much, much shorter. Early wax cylindersfollowed in 1895 by the
shellac discs of the inventor Emile Berlinercould hold only two to three minutes of
audio. But the live music of the 19th and early 20th centuries was typically much more
drawn out: Symphonies could stretch to an hour. As they headed into the studio,
performers and composers ruthlessly edited their work down to size. When Stravinsky
wrote his Serenade in A in 1925, he created each movement to fit a three-minute side of a
disc; two discs, four movements. The works of violinist Fritz Kreisler were put together
with a watch in the hand, as his friend Carl Flesch joked. Blues and country songs
chopped their tunes to perhaps one verse and two choruses.
The three-minute pop song is basically an invention of the phonograph, says Mark Katz,
a professor of music at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and author of
Capturing Sound: How Technology Has Changed Music.
Whats more, the early phonograph had terrible sound fidelity. Microphones werent
commonly in use yet, so recording was a completely mechanical process: Musicians
played into a huge horn, with the sound waves driving a needle that etched the audio into
the wax. It captured little low end or high end. Violins turned into a pathetic and ghostly
murmur, as one critic sniffed; high female voices sounded awful. So producers had to
alter the instrumentation to fit the medium. Jazz bands replaced their drums with
cowbells and woodblocks, and the double bass with a tuba. Klezmer bands completely
dropped the tsimbl, a dulcimer-like instrument whose gentle tones couldnt move the
needle. (Carusos enormous success was partly due to the quirks of the medium: The
male tenor was one of the few sounds that wax cylinders reproduced fairly well.)
Plus, perfection suddenly mattered. On the vaudeville stage a false note or a slight slip in
your pronunciation makes no difference, as the hit singer Ada Jones noted in 1917,
whereas on the phonograph stage the slightest error is not admissible. As a result, the
phonograph rewarded a new type of musical talent. You didnt need to be the most
charismatic or passionate performer onstage, or have the greatest virtuositybut you did
need to be able to regularly pull off a clean take. These demands produced unique stress.
It is something of an ordeal, admitted the violinist Maud Powell. Does your finger touch
by accident two strings of your fiddle when they should touch but one? It will show in the
record, and so will every other microscopic accident. Plus, there was no audience from
which to draw energy. Many performers froze up with phonograph fright.
Even as it changed the nature of performing, the phonograph altered how people heard
music. It was the beginnings of on demand listening: The music you want, whenever
you want it, as one phonograph ad boasted. Music fans could listen to a song over and
over, picking out its nuances.
This is a very different relationship to music, as Sterne notes. Previously, you might
become very familiar with a songwith its tune, its structure. But you could never before
become intimate with a particular performance.
People started defining themselves by their genre: Someone was a blues person, an
opera listener. What you want is your kind of music, as another advertisement intoned.
Your friends can have their kind. Pundits began to warn of gramomania, a growing
obsession with buying and collecting records that would lead one to ignore ones family.
Has the gramophone enthusiast any room or time in his life for a wife? one journalist
joked.
A curious new behavior emerged: listening to music alone. Previously, music was most
often highly social, with a family gathering together around a piano, or a group of people
hearing a band in a bar. But now you could immerse yourself in isolation. In 1923, the
writer Orlo Williams described how strange it would be to enter a room and find someone
alone with a phonograph. You would think it odd, would you not? he noted. You would
endeavor to dissemble your surprise: you would look twice to see whether some other
person were not hidden in some corner of the room.
Some social critics argued that recorded music was narcissistic and would erode our
brains. Mental muscles become flabby through a constant flow of recorded popular
music, as Alice Clark Cook fretted; while listening, your mind lapsed into a complete
and comfortable vacuum. Phonograph fans hotly disagreed. Recordings, they argued,
allowed them to focus on music with a greater depth and attention than ever before. All
the unpleasant externals are removed: The interpreter has been disposed of; the audience
has been disposed of; the uncomfortable concert hall has been disposed of, wrote one.
You are alone with the composer and his music. Surely no more ideal circumstances
could be imagined.
Others worried it would kill off amateur musicianship. If we could listen to the greatest
artists with the flick of a switch, why would anyone bother to learn an instrument
themselves? Once the talking machine is in a home, the child wont practice,
complained the bandleader John Philip Sousa. But others wryly pointed out that this
could be a blessingtheyd be spared the agonies of Susies and Janes parlor concerts,
as a journalist joked. In reality, neither critic was right. During the first two decades of
the phonographfrom 1890 to 1910the number of music teachers and performers per
capita in the U.S. rose by 25 percent, as Katz found. The phonograph inspired more and
more people to pick up instruments.
This was particularly true of jazz, an art form that was arguably invented by the
phonograph. Previously, musicians learned a new form by hearing it live. But with jazz,
new artists often reported learning the complex new genre by buying jazz recordsthen
replaying them over and over, studying songs until theyd mastered them. Theyd also do
something uniquely modern: slowing the record down to pick apart a complex riff.
Jazz musicians would sit there going over something again and again and again, says
William Howland Kenney, author of Recorded Music in American Life. The vinyl was their
education.
Records werent terribly profitable for artists at first. Indeed musicians were often
egregiously ripped offparticularly black ones.
In the early days, white artists often sang coon songs in the voice of blacks, lampooning
their lives in a sort of acoustic blackface. Arthur Collins, a white man, produced records
ranging from The Preacher and the Bearsung in the voice of a terrified black man
chased up a tree by a bearto Down in Monkeyville. When black artists eventually
made it into the studio, the labels marketed their songs in a segregated series of race
records (or, as the early label executive Ralph Peer called it, the [n-word] stuff). Even in
jazz, an art form heavily innovated by black musicians, some of the first recorded artists
were white, such as Paul Whiteman and his orchestra.
Financial arrangements were not much better. Black artists were given a flat fee and no
share in sales royaltiesthe label owned the song and the recording outright. The only
exceptions were a small handful of breakout artists like Bessie Smith, who made about
$20,000 off her work, though this was probably only about 25 percent of what the
copyright was worth. One single of hersDownhearted Bluessold 780,000 copies in
1923, producing $156,000 for Columbia Records.
When hillybilly music took off, the poor white Southern musicians who created that
genre fared slightly better, but not much. Indeed, Ralph Peer suspected that they were so
thrilled to be recorded that he probably could pay them zero. He kept artists in the dark
about how much money the labels were bringing in. You dont want to figure out how
much these people might earn and then give it to them because then they would have no
incentive to keep working, he said. When radio came along, it made the financial
situation even worse: By law, radio was allowed to buy a record and play it on the air
without paying the label or artist a penny; the only ones who got royalties were composers
and publishers. It would take decades of fights to establish copyright rules that required
radio to pay up.
Last fall, Spotify listeners logged on to discover all of Taylor Swifts music was gone. Shed
pulled it all out. Why? Because, as she argued in a Wall Street Journal article, streaming
services pay artists too little: less than a penny per play. Music is art, and art is
important and rare, she said. Valuable things should be paid for. Then in the spring,
she hit back at Apple, which launched its own streaming service by offering customers
three free monthsduring which time artists wouldnt be paid at all. In an open letter to
Apple online, Swift lacerated Apple, and the company backed down.
Technology, it seems, is once again rattling and upending the music industry. Not all
artists are as opposed as Swift is to the transformation. Some point out an upside: Maybe
you cant make much by selling digital tracks, but you can quickly amass a global
audiencevery hard to do in the 20th centuryand tour everywhere. Indeed, digital
music is, ironically, bringing back the primacy of live shows: The live-music touring
market in the U.S. grew an average of 4.7 percent per year for the last five years, and it
brings in $25 billion per year in revenue, according to IBISWorld.
Its also changing the way we listen. Nick Hornby may worry that young people arent
committed to their music because it costs them less, but Aram Sinnreich, a professor of
communications at American University, thinks theyve simply become more catholic in
their interests. Because its so easy to sample widely, they no longer identify as a fan of a
single genre.
In the age of the iPod, and the age of Pandora, and the age of Spotify, weve seen the
average college student go from being a hard-core rock fan or a hard-core hip-hop fan to
being a connoisseur of a lot of different genres, and a casual fan of dozens more, he says.
Its very rare to come across someone of college age or younger whos only invested in one
or two styles of music, and theyre less likely to judge people on their musical taste.
One thing is true: While the recording medium may constantly change, one thing wont
our love of listening to it. Its been a constant since Edison first produced his scratchy
recordings on tinfoil. Even he seems to have intuited the power of that invention. Edison
was once asked, of your thousand-fold patents, which is your favorite invention? I like
the phonograph best, he replied.
The Tale of Two Georgs
How
cruel
is
the
history
of
music?
Today
I
was
driving
to
school,
when,
on
my
XM
radio,
I
heard
a
lovely
Baroque
suite
by
one
Georg
Caspar
Schurmann.
I
was,
once
again,
delightfully
surprised
at
encountering
a
fine
composer
about
whom
I
knew
absolutely
nothing.
What
I
heard
was
music
that
certainly
rivaled
that
of
Handel
in
quality
and
style,
so
I
made
sure
to
look
this
fellow
up
when
I
got
home.
As
soon
as
dinner
was
over,
I
pulled
out
my
Bakers
and
found
that
Slonimsky
rates
him
as
eminent,
which
puts
him
one
rung
below
great.
At
CCNY
that
evaluation
would
him
an
A
minus,
memorable
at
the
very
least.
So
then
I
checked
out
iTunes
and
found
one
overture
by
him
available
for
purchase.
My
next
stop
was
YouTube
where
only
one
of
his
compositions
is
available.
It
turned
out
to
be
the
same
piece
I
had
heard
earlier
in
the
day
on
the
radio,
and
its
a
damn
good
piece.
So,
what
does
all
this
tell
me
about
the
ravages
of
time?
Well,
there
must
scores
of
fellows
out
there
in
the
dark
recesses
of
history
who
were
deemed
masters
in
their
day
and
have
failed
to
make
the
big
time
centuries
later.
Hey,
this
guy
lived
and
worked
in
one
of
the
best
courts
in
Europe
almost
his
whole
life,
and
he
lived
to
79,
and
now
he
only
gets
3
inches
in
Bakers?
I
must
conclude
that
the
music
business
is,
indeed,
very
cruel
to
the
highly
talented
because
they
failed
to
be
supremely
talented.
Talk
about
elitism!
I
have
spent
my
fifty
years
as
a
professor
of
music
focused
on
an
infinitesimally
small
percentage
of
music
historys
cast
of
characters.
For
every
Handel
there
must
be
ten
Schurmanns
who
I
may
never
meet
in
this
lifetime,
so
I
must
be
grateful
that
I
got
to
spend
at
least
one
day
with
Caspar
before
I
toss
him
aside
and
get
back
that
other
Georg
who
made
it
into
the
Hall
of
Fame.
The Mass Through History
Verdi
Requiem
Puccini
Messe
Faure
Requiem
Durufle
Requiem
Stravinsky
Mass
Britten
War
Requiem
Penderecki
Polish
Requiem
Ligeti
Requiem
Part
Berliner
Messe
The Ordinary of the Mass Lord God, Lamb of God,
Son of the Father.
Kyrie eleison. Thou that takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
Christe eleison. Thou that takest away the sins of the world, receive our prayer.
Kyrie eleison. Thou that sittest at the right hand of the Father,
have mercy upon us.
Lord, have mercy. For thou only art holy,
Christ, have mercy. thou only art the Lord,
Lord, have mercy. thou only art the most high, Jesus Christ.
Together with the Holy Ghost
in the glory of God the Father.
Amen.
Gloria in excelsis Deo.
Et in terra pax
hominibus bon voluntatis. Credo in unum Deum;
Laudamus te; benedicimus te; Patrem omnipotentem,
adoramus te; glorificamus te. factorem coeli et terrae,
Gratias agimus tibi visibilium omnium et invisibilium.
propter magnam gloriam tuam. Credo in unum Dominum Jesum Christum,
Domine Deus, Rex coelestis, Filium Dei unigenitum,
Deus Pater omnipotens. Et ex Patre natum ante omnia scula.
Domine Fili unigenite Jesu Christe. Deum de Deo, lumen de lumine,
Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Deum verum de Deo vero,
Filius Patris. Genitum non factum,
Qui tollis peccata mundi, consubstantialem Patri:
miserere nobis. per quem omnia facta sunt.
Qui tollis peccata mundi, Qui propter nos homines,
suscipe deprecationem nostram. et propter nostram salutem
Qui sedes ad dextram Patris, descendit de coelis.
O miserere nobis. Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto
Quoniam tu solus Sanctus, ex Maria Virgine: et homo factus est.
tu solus Dominus, Crucifixus etiam pro nobis
tu solus Altissimus, Jesu Christe. sub Pontio Pilato,
Cum Sancto Spiritu passus et sepultus est.
in gloria Dei Patris. Et resurrexit tertia die
Amen. secundum Scripturas.
Et ascendit in coelum:
sedet ad dexteram Patris.
Glory be to God in the highest. Et iterum venturus est cum gloria,
And in earth peace judicare vivos et mortuos:
to men of good will. cujus regni non erit finis.
We praise Thee; we bless Thee; Credo in Spiritum Sanctum,
we worship Thee; we glorify Thee. Dominum, et vivificantem:
We give thanks to Thee qui ex Patre Filioque procedit.
for Thy great glory. Qui cum Patre et Filio simul
O Lord God, Heavenly King, adoratur et conglorificatur:
God the Father Almighty. qui locutus est per Prophetas.
O Lord Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son. Credo in unam sanctam
catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam.
Confiteor unum baptisma,
in remissionem peccatorum. Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Dominus Deus
Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum Sabaoth.
et vitam venturi sculi. Pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua.
Amen. Osanna in excelsis.
Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts.
I believe in one God; Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory.
the Father almighty, Hosanna in the highest.
maker of heaven and earth,
and of all things visible and invisible.
And in one Lord Jesus Christ, Agnus Dei,
the only begotten Son of God, qui tollis peccata mundi,
begotten of the Father before all worlds; miserere nobis.
God of God, light of light, Agnus Dei.
true God of true God, Dona nobis pacem.
begotten not made;
being of one substance with the Father, Lamb of God,
by Whom all things were made. Who takest away the sins of the world,
Who for us men have mercy upon us.
and for our salvation Lamb of God.
descended from heaven; Grant us peace.
and was incarnate by the Holy Ghost,
of the Virgin Mary, and was made man. Benedictus qui venit
He was crucified also for us, in nomine Domini.
suffered under Pontius Pilate, Osanna in excelsis.
and was buried. Blessed is He that cometh
And on the third day He rose again in the name of the Lord.
according to the Scriptures:
Hosanna in the highest.
and ascended into heaven.
He sitteth at the right hand of the Father;
and He shall come again with glory
to judge the living and the dead;
and His kingdom shall have no end.
I believe in the Holy Ghost,
the Lord and giver of life,
Who prodeedeth from the Father and the Son,
Who with the Father and the Son together
is worshipped and glorified;
as it was told by the Prophets.
And I believe in one holy
catholic and apostolic Church.
I acknowledge one baptism
for the remission of sins.
And I await the resurrection of the dead
and the life of the world to come.
Amen.
The Symphony Through History
Mozart
Symphony
40
Shostakovitch
Symphony
5
Prokofiev
Symphony
5
Berio
Sinfonia
Bizet
LArlesienne
Scriabin
Poem
of
Ecstasy
Strauss
Don
Juan
During the 18th century, "the symphony was cultivated with extraordinary
intensity".[6] It played a role in many areas of public life, including church
services,[7] but a particularly strong area of support for symphonic
performances was the aristocracy. In Vienna, perhaps the most important
location in Europe for the composition of symphonies, "literally hundreds of
noble families supported musical establishments, generally dividing their time
between Vienna and their ancestral estate [elsewhere in the Empire]". [8] Since
the normal size of the orchestra at the time was quite small, many of these
courtly establishments were capable of performing symphonies. The young
Joseph Haydn, taking up his first job as a music director in 1757 for the
Morzin family, found that when the Morzin household was in Vienna, his own
orchestra was only part of a lively and competitive musical scene, with multiple
aristocrats sponsoring concerts with their own ensembles.
LaRue, Bonds, Walsh, and Wilson[10] trace the gradual expansion of the
symphonic orchestra through the 18th century. At first, symphonies were
string symphonies, written in just four parts: first violin, second violin, viola,
and bass (the bass line was taken by cello(s), double bass(es) playing the part
an octave below, and perhaps also a bassoon). Occasionally the early
symphonists even dispensed with the viola part, thus creating three-part
symphonies. A basso continuo part including a bassoon together with a
harpsichord or other chording instrument was also possible.[10]
The first additions to this simple ensemble were a pair of horns, occasionally a
pair of oboes, and then both horns and oboes together. Over the century, other
instruments were added to the classical orchestra: flutes (sometimes replacing
the oboes), separate parts for bassoons, clarinets, and trumpets and timpani.
Works varied in their scoring concerning which of these additional instruments
were to appear. The full-scale classical orchestra, deployed at the end of the
century for the largest-scale symphonies, has the standard string ensemble
mentioned above, pairs of winds (flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons), a pair of
horns, and timpani. A keyboard continuo instrument (harpsichord or piano)
remained an option.
The "Italian" style of symphony, often used as overture and entr'acte in opera
houses, became a standard three-movement form: a fast movement, a slow
movement, and another fast movement. Over the course of the 18th century it
became the custom to write four-movement symphonies,[11] along the lines
described in the next paragraph. The three-movement symphony died out
slowly; about half of Haydn's first thirty symphonies are in three movements;[12]
and for the young Mozart, the three-movement symphony was the norm,
perhaps under the influence of his friend Johann Christian Bach.[13] An
outstanding late example of the three-movement Classical symphony is
Mozart's "Prague" Symphony, from 1787.
The four-movement form that emerged from this evolution was as follows:[14][15]
1 an opening sonata or allegro
2 a slow movement, such as adagio
3 a minuet or scherzo with trio
4 an allegro, rondo, or sonata
Variations on this layout, like changing the order of the middle movements or
adding a slow introduction to the first movement, were common. Haydn,
Mozart and their contemporaries restricted their use of the four-movement
form to orchestral or multi-instrument chamber music such as quartets,
though since Beethoven solo sonatas are as often written in four as in three
movements.[16]
The most important symphonists of the latter part of the 18th century are
Haydn, who wrote at least 107 symphonies over the course of 36 years,[18] and
Mozart, with at least 47 symphonies in 24 years. [19]
19th century
At the beginning of the 19th century, Beethoven elevated the symphony from
an everyday genre produced in large quantities to a supreme form in which
composers strove to reach the highest potential of music in just a few works.[20]
Beethoven began with two works directly emulating his models Mozart and
Haydn, then seven more symphonies, starting with the Third Symphony
("Eroica") that expanded the scope and ambition of the genre. His Symphony
No. 5 is perhaps the most famous symphony ever written; its transition from
the emotionally stormy C minor opening movement to a triumphant major-key
finale provided a model adopted by later symphonists such as Brahms[21] and
Mahler.[ His Symphony No. 6 is a programmatic work, featuring instrumental
imitations of bird calls and a storm; and, unconventionally, a fifth movement
(symphonies usually had at most four movements). His Symphony No. 9
includes parts for vocal soloists and choir in the last movement, making it a
choral symphony.[22]
Of the symphonies of Franz Schubert, two are core repertory items and are
frequently performed. Of the Eighth Symphony (1822), Schubert completed
only the first two movements; this highly Romantic work is usually called by its
nickname "The Unfinished." His last completed symphony, the Ninth (1826) is
a massive work in the Classical idiom.[23]
Over the course of the 19th century, composers continued to add to the size of
the symphonic orchestra. Around the beginning of the century, a full-scale
orchestra would consist of the string section plus pairs of flutes, oboes,
clarinets, bassoons, horns, trumpets, and lastly a set of timpani.[25] This is, for
instance, the scoring used in Beethoven's symphonies numbered 1, 2, 4, 7, and
8. Trombones, which had previously been confined to church and theater
music, came to be added to the symphonic orchestra, notably in Beethoven's
5th, 6th, and 9th symphonies. The combination of bass drum, triangle, and
cymbals (sometimes also: piccolo), which 18th century composers employed as
a coloristic effect in so-called "Turkish music", came to be increasingly used
during the second half of the 19th century without any such connotations of
genre.[25] By the time of Mahler (see below), it was possible for a composer to
write a symphony scored for "a veritable compendium of orchestral
instruments".[25] In addition to increasing in variety of instruments, 19th
century symphonies were gradually augmented with more string players and
more wind parts, so that that the orchestra grew substantially in sheer
numbers, as concert halls likewise grew.[25]
The 20th Century
At the beginning of the 20th century, Gustav Mahler wrote long, large-scale
symphonies. His Eighth Symphony, for example, was composed in 1906 and is
nicknamed the "Symphony of a Thousand" because of the large number of
voices required to perform the choral sections. Additionally, his Third
Symphony is one of the longest regularly performed symphonies at around 100
minutes in length for most performances. The 20th century also saw further
diversification in the style and content of works that composers labeled
symphonies (Anon. 2008). Some composers, including Dmitri Shostakovich,
Sergei Rachmaninoff, and Carl Nielsen, continued to write in the traditional
four-movement form, while other composers took different approaches: Jean
Sibelius' Symphony No. 7, his last, is in one movement, whereas Alan
Hovhaness's Symphony No. 9, Saint Vartanoriginally op. 80, changed to op.
180composed in 194950, is in twenty-four.[26]
In the first half of the century, Edward Elgar, Gustav Mahler, Jean Sibelius,
Carl Nielsen, Igor Stravinsky, Bohuslav Martin, Roger Sessions, and Dmitri
Shostakovich composed symphonies "extraordinary in scope, richness,
originality, and urgency of expression" (Steinberg 1995, 404). One measure of
the significance of a symphony is the degree to which it reflects conceptions of
temporal form particular to the age in which it was created. Five composers
from across the span of the 20th century who fulfill this measure are Sibelius,
Stravinsky, Luciano Berio (in his Sinfonia, 196869), Elliott Carter (in his
Symphony of Three Orchestras, 1976), and Pelle Gudmundsen-Holmgreen (in
Symphony/Antiphony, 1980).[29]
Music for the Stage Through History
Puccini
La
Boheme
Rimsky-Korsakov
Scheherazade
Stravinsky
Petrushka
Purpose
o Ceremonial Popular/folk Art
o Professional Amateur
Location
o Indoors Outdoors
o Formal Informal
Artistic Elements
o Scenery: see Art Assessment
o Properties
o Costumes
o Lighting
Music
o See Music Assessment
o Live or Recorded?
o Synchronized with dance?
Number of Dancers
o Solo Duet Trio Quartet Quintet Sextet 7 to 12 More Than 12
Ensemble Gestures
o Same Similar Different
o Simultaneous Consecutive
Movement
o Are the dancers silent, rhythmic or melodic?
o Which body parts are in motion?
Head Arms Torso Hips Legs Feet Hands
o How often are the feet on the ground?
o Are there acrobatic elements?
o Is pantomime involved?
o Are special feats of strength in evidence?
o Is the movement smooth or jerky?
o How high is the energy level?
o Is there body contact? Lifting?
o Types of motion: parallel, similar, contrary, oblique
Structure
o How long is the dance?
o Is it sectional?
o Is it narrative or abstract?
o Is it tragic or comic?
The Concerto Through History
Vivaldi
The
Four
Seasons
Schubert
Erlkonig
Chopin
Preludes
and
Mazurkas
Tchaikovsky
Serenade
for
Strings
Leontyne Price is widely regarded as the first African American to
gain international acclaim as a professional opera singer.
Synopsis
Renowned for her early stage and television work, Price made her opera
stage debut at the San Francisco Opera in 1957, and her debut at New
York City's Metropolitan Opera House in 1961. Widely regarded as the
first African-American singer to earn international acclaim in opera, Price
is known for her roles in Il Trovatore, Antony and Cleopatra, and Aida.
Following her time at Oak Park Vocational High School, where she was a
standout pianist and member of the glee club, Price enrolled at the
College of Education and Industrial Arts in Wilberforce, Ohio. She began
her studies focusing on music education, but was later encouraged by
faculty to switch her concentration to voice. After graduation, Price
headed to New York City to attend The Juilliard School on a full
scholarship.
Professional Career
In April 1952, Leontyne Price made her Broadway debut as St. Cecilia in
the revival of Thompsen's Four Saints in Three Acts. Immediately following
the show's three-week engagement, she was cast in a touring production
of George Gershwin's Porgy and Bess. For the next two years, Price
dazzled audiences with her stunning portrayal of Bess, gaining acclaim
with her flawless vocal interpretations. During her tour with the show,
she married co-star William Warfield, who portrayed Porgy.
Price's debut at the New York City's Metropolitan Opera House in 1961
as Leonora in Il Trovatore was such a success, it marked the beginning of
her residency as one of the opera's principal sopranos. She flourished as
a prima donna at the Met, starring in such roles such as Cio-Cio-San in
Madama Butterfly, Minnie in La Fanciulla del West and, perhaps most
notably, as Cleopatra in Antony and Cleopatra.
Biography.com
Yo-Yo Ma
From his website
Yo-Yo Mas multi-faceted career is testament to his continual search for new
ways to communicate with audiences, and to his personal desire for artistic
growth and renewal. Whether performing new or familiar works from the
cello repertoire, coming together with colleagues for chamber music or
exploring cultures and musical forms outside the Western classical tradition,
Mr. Ma strives to find connections that stimulate the imagination.
Through his work with Silkroad, as throughout his career, Yo-Yo Ma seeks
to expand the cello repertoire, frequently performing lesser known music of
the 20th century and commissions of new concertos and recital pieces. He
has premiered works by a diverse group of composers.
Mr. Ma and his wife have two children. He plays two instruments, a 1733
Montagnana cello from Venice and the 1712 Davidoff Stradivarius.
Pierre
Boulez,
Composer
and
Conductor
Who
Pushed
Modernisms
Boundaries,
Dies
at
90
By
PAUL
GRIFFITHS.
January
6,
2016,
NY
Times
Pierre Boulez, the French composer and conductor who helped blaze a
radical new path for classical music in the 20th century, becoming one of
its dominant figures in the decades after World War II, died on Tuesday
at his home in Baden-Baden, Germany. He was 90.
But his influence was equally large on the podium. In time he began
giving ever more attention to conducting, where his keen ear and
rhythmic incisiveness could produce a startling clarity. (There are
countless stories of him detecting faulty intonation, say, from the third
oboe in a complex piece.
Pierre Boulez (the Z is not silent) was born on March 26, 1925, in
Montbrison, a town near Lyon, the son of an industrialist, Lon Boulez,
and the former Marcelle Calabre. He studied the piano and began to
compose in his teens.
Messiaen also introduced his students to medieval music and the music
of Asia and Africa. Mr. Boulez felt his course was set; but he also knew
he needed to go further into the 12-tone method that Schoenberg had
introduced a generation before.
I had to learn about that music, to find out how it was made, he once
told Opera News. It was a revelation a music for our time, a language
with unlimited possibilities. No other language was possible. It was the
most radical revolution since Monteverdi. Suddenly, all our familiar
notions were abolished. Music moved out of the world of Newton and into
the world of Einstein.
As Mr. Boulez saw it, all these composers had failed to pursue their most
radical impulses, and it fell to a new generation specifically, to him
to pick up the torch.
Though he was outspoken about his historical role, he was much warier
of talking about what his music expressed. There was the odd reference
in his early writings to the poet and playwright Antonin Artaud; there
was also an admitted kinship with the poetry of Ren Char, which he set
to music in Le Marteau Sans Matre and other works. But he was also
capable of ferocious abstraction, as in the first section of his Structures
(1951) for two pianos, a test case in applying serial principles to rhythm,
volume and color.
About his private life, he remained tightly guarded. Jeanne, his older
sister, was important to him; few others were able to break through his
reserve.
Mr. Boulez gave his first concert with a symphony orchestra in June
1956, when he conducted the Orquesta Sinfonica Venezuela on one of
his last tours with the Renaud-Barrault company. During the 1957-58
season, he appeared with the West German Radio Symphony in Cologne
in his own Visage Nuptial and Stockhausens Gruppen.
He then forged a lasting connection with the Southwest German Radio
Symphony Orchestra of Baden-Baden, where he made his home. In 1960,
he conducted the orchestra in the first performance of his Pli Selon Pli,
an hourlong setting of poems by Stphane Mallarm for soprano, with an
orchestra rich in percussion.
The next year, he conducted his first operas, Wozzeck in Frankfurt and
Paris, and Parsifal at Bayreuth in Germany, and he started recording
for Columbia Masterworks. His first releases for the label included
Wozzeck and albums of Debussy and Messiaen.
Both his programming and his handling of an older repertoire met with
some resistance from audiences, critics and, it was said, even some of
his musicians. Harold C. Schonberg of The New York Times called Mr.
Boulez a brainy orchestral technician whose scientific approach
lacked heart. Reviewing a 1972 concert that included Edgard Varses
1927 composition Arcana, Donal Henahan of The Times reported that
perhaps a quarter of the downstairs audience at Philharmonic Hall fled
as if from the Mr. Boulez wanted to make the orchestra a more flexible
institution, and a more modern one. Performances might begin with
short programs of chamber music, played by members of the orchestra.
More of the repertoire would be explored. During his first season as the
music director, there was an emphasis on Liszt. Then concerts consisting
entirely of new and recent works were given at downtown sites. There
were also informal evenings of talk, rehearsal and performance
featuring 20th-century composers. And there were summer seasons of
rug concerts, with a different program every night for a week, played to
audiences seated on the floor of Philharmonic Hall.
The rug concerts lasted only two years, and none of his other innovations
survived his departure. He had given up his post with the BBC
Symphony in 1975, leaving as a parting gift his somber Rituel. His last
concerts with the Philharmonic were in May 1977; on the program was
Berliozs Damnation of Faust. He went back regularly to conduct in
London, but he did not return to the Philharmonic podium until 1986.
His priority after the Philharmonic was Ircam, the Paris research
institute, and he cut back on his conducting commitments; among the
few he kept was the first full performance of Bergs Lulu in 1979, at the
Paris Opera.
The paradox was that the man who had such an extraordinary orchestral
imagination and such extraordinary powers to realize the fruits of that
imagination in performance should have been so convinced of his need
for electronic resources. Rpons is in most respects inferior to
clat/Multiples, a work for a similar percussion-based orchestra that
he had begun and abandoned a decade before. Nor does it begin to rival
the orchestral virtuosity displayed in the arrangements of his early piano
cycle Notations.
Many more projects remained unfinished, while others were never begun,
like the opera on which he was to have collaborated first with Jean Genet
and later with Heiner Mller.
2003
PAG
E
1
Secrtariat Pierre BOULEZ Imprim le 1/14/16
A. Schirmer/K.-P. Altekruse
Boulez Rpons
PAG
E
2
Secrtariat Pierre BOULEZ Imprim le 1/14/16
A. Schirmer/K.-P. Altekruse
PAG
E
3
Secrtariat Pierre BOULEZ Imprim le 1/14/16
A. Schirmer/K.-P. Altekruse
Wagner Parsifal
Schnberg Kammersymphonie 2
Mahler Kindertotenlieder (Anne Sofie von Otter) + REC 20/21
Bartok Musique pour cordes, percussion et clesta
PAG
E
4
Secrtariat Pierre BOULEZ Imprim le 1/14/16
A. Schirmer/K.-P. Altekruse
Webern Lieder op. 14 et op. 13
Boulez Improvisation sur Mallarm I, II (Valdine Anderson)
Boulez Eclat/Multiples
PAG
E
5
NY TIMES
------------------------------------------------------------------------
RUTH ANN McCLAIN, a flutist from Memphis, used to suffer from debilitating onstage
jitters.
"My hands were so cold and wet, I thought I'd drop my flute," Ms. McClain said recently,
remembering a performance at the National Flute Convention in the late 1980's. Her heart
thumped loudly in her chest, she added; her mind would not focus, and her head felt as if
it were on fire. She tried to hide her nervousness, but her quivering lips kept her from
performing with sensitivity and nuance.
However much she tried to relax before a concert, the nerves always stayed with her. But
in 1995, her doctor provided a cure, a prescription medication called propranolol. "After
the first time I tried it," she said, "I never looked back. It's fabulous to feel normal for a
performance."
Ms. McClain, a grandmother who was then teaching flute at Rhodes College in Memphis,
started recommending beta-blocking drugs like propranolol to adult students afflicted
with performance anxiety. And last year she lost her job for doing so.
College officials, who declined to comment for this article, said at the time that
recommending drugs fell outside the student-instructor relationship and charged that Ms.
McClain asked a doctor for medication for her students. Ms. McClain, who taught at
Rhodes for 11 years, says she merely recommended that they consult a physician about
obtaining a prescription.
Ms. McClain is hardly the only musician to rely on beta blockers, which, taken in small
dosages, can quell anxiety without apparent side effects. The little secret in the classical
music world - dirty or not - is that the drugs have become nearly ubiquitous. So
ubiquitous, in fact, that their use is starting to become a source of worry. Are the drugs a
godsend or a crutch? Is there something artificial about the music they help produce?
Isn't anxiety a natural part of performance? And could classical music someday join the
Olympics and other athletic organizations in scandals involving performance-enhancing
drugs?
Beta blockers - which are cardiac medications, not tranquilizers or sedatives - were first
marketed in 1967 in the United States for disorders like angina and abnormal heart
rhythms. One of the commonest is propranolol, made here by Wyeth Pharmaceuticals and
sold under the brand name Inderal. By blocking the action of adrenaline and other
substances, these drugs mute the sympathetic nervous system, which produces fear in
response to any perceived danger, be it a sabre-toothed tiger or a Lincoln Center
audience.
Even the most skillful and experienced musicians can experience this fear. Legendary
artists like the pianists Vladimir Horowitz and Glenn Gould curtailed their careers
because of anxiety, and the cellist Pablo Casals endured a thumping heart, shortness of
breath and shakiness even as he performed into his 90's. Before the advent of beta
blockers, artists found other, often more eccentric means of calming themselves. In 1942,
a New York pianist charged his peers 75 cents to attend the Society for Timid Souls, a
salon in which participants distracted one another during mock performances. Others
resorted to superstitious ritual, drink or tranquilizers. The pianist Samuel Sanders told
an interviewer in 1980 that taking Valium before a performance would bring him down
from wild panic to mild hysteria.
Musicians quietly began to embrace beta blockers after their application to stage fright
was first recognized in The Lancet, a British medical journal, in 1976. By 1987, a survey
conducted by the International Conference of Symphony Orchestra Musicians, which
represents the 51 largest orchestras in the United States, revealed that 27 percent of its
musicians had used the drugs. Psychiatrists estimate that the number is now much
higher.
"Before propranolol, I saw a lot of musicians using alcohol or Valium," said Mitchell Kahn,
director of the Miller Health Care Institute for the Performing Arts, describing 25 years of
work with the Metropolitan Opera orchestra and other groups. "I believe beta blockers are
far more beneficial than deleterious and have no qualms about prescribing them."
But use of drugs is still largely secretive. "Inderal is like Viagra," a woodwind player at a
major orchestra said. "No one admits to using it because of the implication of weakness."
Robin McKee, the acting principal flutist of the San Francisco Symphony, agrees, saying,
"It's too bad we're reluctant to talk about using such a great tool."
Indeed, the effect of the drugs does seem magical. Beta blockers don't merely calm
musicians; they actually seem to improve their performances on a technical level. In the
late 1970's, Charles Brantigan, a vascular surgeon in Denver, began researching classical
musicians' use of Inderal. By replicating performance conditions in studies at the
Juilliard School and the Eastman School in Rochester, he showed that the drug not only
lowered heart rates and blood pressure but also led to performances that musical judges
deemed superior to those fueled with a placebo. In 1980, Dr. Brantigan, who plays tuba
with the Denver Brass, sent his findings to Kenneth Mirkin, a frustrated Juilliard student
who had written to him for help.
"I was the kid who had always sat last-chair viola," said Mr. Mirkin, whose bow bounced
from audition nerves. Two years later, he won a spot in the New York Philharmonic, where
he has played for 22 years. "I never would have had a career in music without Inderal,"
said Mr. Mirkin, who, an hour before his tryout, took 10 milligrams.
For the last two decades, such use of beta blockers has generally met with approval from
the medical establishment. "Stage fright is a very specific and time-limited type of
problem," said Michael Craig Miller, the editor of The Harvard Medical Letter. Dr. Miller,
who is also an amateur pianist, noted that beta blockers are inexpensive and relatively
safe, and that they affect only physical, not cognitive, anxiety. "There's very little downside
except whatever number you do on yourself about taking the drugs."
BUT now that the drugs have established themselves as a seemingly permanent part of
the classical music world, some musicians and physicians are beginning to question the
acceptability, safety, efficacy and ethics of using them. One concern is that many
musicians use beta blockers without proper medical supervision. The 1987 survey of
orchestra musicians revealed that 70 percent of musicians taking beta blockers got them
from friends, not physicians. Mr. Mirkin, the Philharmonic violist, first obtained Inderal
from his father, who took it for angina. Others buy it while touring countries where they
are sold over the counter.
Stephen J. Gottlieb, a professor of medicine who published a study on the effects of beta
blockers in The New England Journal of Medicine in 1998, says beta blockers should be
obtained only after a medical examination, since people with asthma or heart disease
could develop problems like shortness of breath or a slowing of the heart rate. "One-time
use of low doses of beta blockers should be safe in healthy people," Dr. Gottlieb said,
adding that the fatigue, hallucinations, tingling and vivid dreams listed as side effects in
Physicians' Desk Reference would be unusual in those using Inderal only occasionally.
The risks are far more serious for those who use beta blockers consistently and take up to
700 milligrams of Inderal a day. Musicians typically take 5 to 20 milligrams in isolated
doses.
But some performers object to beta blockers on musical rather than medical grounds. "If
you have to take a drug to do your job, then go get another job," said Sara Sant'Ambrogio,
who plays cello in the Eroica Trio. Chemically assisted performances can be soulless and
inauthentic, say detractors like Barry Green, the author of "The Inner Game of Music,"
and Don Greene, a former Olympic diving coach who teaches Juilliard students to
overcome their stage fight naturally. The sound may be technically correct, but it's
somewhat deadened, both men say. Angella Ahn, a violinist and a member of the Ahn
Trio, remembers that fellow students at Juilliard who took beta blockers "lost a little bit of
the intensity," she said. Ms. Ahn doesn't use the drugs, she said: "I want to be there 100
percent."
Indeed, the high stakes involved in live performance are part of what makes it so thrilling,
for both performers and audiences. A little onstage anxiety may be a good thing: one
function of adrenaline is to provide extra energy in a threatening or challenging situation,
and that energy can be harnessed to produce a particularly exciting musical performance.
Performance anxiety tends to push musicians to rehearse more and to confront their
anxieties about their work; beta blockers mask these musical and emotional obstacles.
Some musicians are also grappling with the ethics of better performing through
chemistry. In auditions, which are even more nerve-racking than regular performances,
do those who avail themselves of the drug have a better chance of success than those who
do not? Should drug testing apply to performers, as it does to some athletes and to job
applicants at some companies?
"If you look at the logic of why we ban drugs in sport, the same should apply to music
auditions," said Charles Yesalis, a professor at Pennsylvania State University who studies
performance-enhancing drugs. But the issue receives little attention because, unlike
athletes, classical musicians are seldom called on to represent big business ventures. "If
Nike offered musicians ad contracts," Dr. Yesalis said, "more people would pay attention."
Speaking from the Athens Olympics in August, Steven Ungerleider, a sports psychologist
and the author of "Faust's Gold," said that beta-blocking medications are prohibited for
some events, like riflery, in which competitors use the drug to slow the pulse so that they
can fire between heartbeats to avoid a jolt. The drugs are banned in a number of other
sports, including motorcycling, bobsledding and freestyle snowboarding.
But Dr. Miller, the Harvard physician, points out that beta blockers differ significantly
from steroids, which use testosterone to increase muscle mass, strength and speed.
Inderal enables rather than enhances, by removing debilitating physical symptoms; it
cannot improve tone, technique or musicianship, or compensate for inadequate
preparation.
"If I'm looking out for the welfare of my students, I cannot in good conscience not tell
them about beta blockers," said Ms. McClain, adding that she would be more careful
about how she represented the information in the future.
Some teachers believe that coping with performance anxiety is an essential part of a
classical music education and that early use of beta blockers deprives students of the
chance to confront their stage fright. Robert Barris, a bassoonist and a co-chairman of
the music performance studies faculty at Northwestern University, encourages students
to address the roots of their anxieties while avoiding psychological dependence on
chemicals. Unlike previous generations of musicians, these students can draw on a rich
array of nonchemical treatment options. The new field of performing-arts medicine
includes some 20 centers across the country, many of which treat stage fright with
therapies that range from Inderal to more holistic approaches like hypnosis, yoga and
aerobic exercise.
But several musicians interviewed for this article expressed impatience with these
treatments, which can seem slow and uncertain compared with the instant gratification
and convenience offered by the beta blockers. "Holistic solutions take work and time to be
effective, whereas Inderal is a quick fix," Mr. Barris confirmed. As it happens, he takes
Inderal by prescription for a heart ailment, and he said that he works to combat any
soporific effects the drug might have on his musicianship by putting extra energy into his
concerts. "No one wants to listen to a secure, accurate but disconnected performance," he
added.
Jim Walker, a former principal flutist of the Los Angeles Philharmonic who has recorded
more than 400 movie soundtracks, says that preparation is the best medicine. Still, he
describes himself as an Inderal advocate, with the caveat that the drug be approved by a
physician. Some of his best students at the University of Southern California, he said, are
too nervous to deliver a representation of how well they really play and might stand to
benefit from beta blockers.
Blair Tindall, a professional oboist, is writing "Mozart in the Jungle" for Grove/Atlantic
Press. Elaine Aradillas contributed reporting for this article.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
FOURTEEN years ago, Chad A. Alexander took his bassoon and headed east
from a small California town, assumed a coveted place at the Juilliard School
and began training for a job in one of the country's great orchestras.
He needed a day job. But a Juilliard degree had not prepared him for much
besides playing. "When you go to a conservatory, something as specialized as
that, you're basically from a different planet," he said. He cast a wide net, but
the only outfit that offered him a job was an insurance company in Long
Beach, N.Y., on Long Island. He played a few jobs in the evenings. But he was
earning his living as a customer service representative.
Last May, Mr. Alexander finished out of the running in yet another audition, for
the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, and saw his finances on a precipice. So in
what he called a heartbreaking moment, he sold his bassoon for $5,300 to pay
credit card bills. "It was time," he said. "It got to the point where you're just
tired of being poor." Now he lives in Phoenix and works as an assistant
underwriter.
Both Mr. Alexander and Mr. Crambes graduated from Juilliard 10 years ago.
Their stories suggest just two of the many varied paths that superlatively
trained musicians can travel after leaving one of the world's premier
conservatories, which next year celebrates its 100th anniversary. To give a
more comprehensive picture of those paths, Arts & Leisure took a close look at
the Class of 1994, whose members are now solidly in their 30's and mostly
embarked on careers and family life.
Sometimes the struggle is just too much, and many drop out, perhaps
disillusioned with a once-sacred endeavor that has come to seem a cold,
unforgiving trade. Others, like Mr. Alexander, are simply sick of the financial
grind: the low pay, the lack of benefits, the scramble for work. But many others
make it, and what also came clear from the analysis of this class were the high
levels of dedication many of the graduates maintain and the satisfactions and
excitement of expressing oneself through one of the purest forms of
communication: the making of music.
The class of 1994 includes Justine Flynn, a French-horn player who has
battled alcoholism and, after bouncing from job to job in and out of music, now
plans to become a tax preparer; Mark Inouye, a baseball-loving, happy-go-
lucky trumpeter with the Houston Symphony; Gwen Appel, a clarinetist who
gave up the grind of public-school teaching for a diamond grader's job at
Tiffany's; and Ittai Shapira, an Israeli dynamo with a flourishing solo violin
career.
All of those now outside music have struggled to come to terms with their new
identities. Surrender can be a wrenching adjustment for people who have lived
their whole lives in the intimate embrace of an instrument and whose talent
brought them glory at a young age.
LIKE many Juilliard graduates, Ms. Appel, the clarinetist, was burdened with
debt after graduation: $28,000 in student loans. Then still using her maiden
name, Santiago, she taught music in New York public schools to support
herself and pay off her loans. (Juilliard's tuition now runs $22,850 a year.) But
the grind kept her from practicing. "I found it very depressing," she said. "It
really had nothing to do with what I was doing before."
She quit her job, went back to practicing for auditions and married. But
something had changed. "I didn't have that drive anymore to practice four or
five hours a day," she said. Deep down, she knew that the chances of landing a
good orchestra job were small. "I wasn't in denial about it. Some people are. I
see people struggling, close to 30. I just didn't want to live that way."
The violin is an easier instrument than the clarinet to ride to stardom, and
three of Ms. Appel's violinist classmates have managed to do just that: Mr.
Crambes; Nicholas Eanet, who is one of two concertmasters in the Metropolitan
Opera Orchestra; and Mr. Shapira. What many of the Juilliard class have
learned over the last decade is that when it comes to making a career, talent is
rarely the most important quality. It takes discipline, focus and energy - and
connections, often formed at Juilliard.
"At Juilliard I met a lot of people that I still work with," Mr. Crambes said. "It's
a very important part of our job, to have relations with people." Relationships
emerge not so much from class membership as from studying with the same
teacher or playing in the same groups. Few of the members of the class of 1994
have kept in close touch, although a number were aware of what others were
doing. Several reconnected recently after the suicide of a contemporary at
Juilliard.
As a student, Mr. Shapira said, he did not pay much attention to teachers who
talked about a changing music world. "I practiced and did what I was told," he
added.
But he has learned.
"Just because you play really well," he said, "that's not enough. You need
vision, you need persistence, you need passion for what you do, and you need
to provide something unique.
"I've formed relationships with conductors and producers. We found out what
we like to do with each other in a changing market. Rather than be the missing
part of a puzzle, you can create a puzzle around you."
Mr. Shapira, who still lives four blocks from Juilliard, credits the conservatory
with giving him a solid musical foundation and a base of operations. For a few
weeks every year, he plays with the group Concertante, which consists of
Juilliard grads. "The key to enjoying what I do is the focus that I thank
Juilliard for," he said, "but also variety, versatility."
FOR many students, Juilliard was a rude awakening. They often arrived as
minicelebrities in their musical communities, perhaps the winner of a local
competition or the best player in town. And they joined a group of people just
as accomplished, just as driven and often just as unprepared for the tough job
market they would someday face.
"When you're 12," said Matthew Herren, an accomplished cellist who moved
last year to Lawrence, Kan., where his partner got a job, "no one says, 'You're
going to have to carry that thing on the B train to Queens to do some cash job
for 75 bucks.' "
It was a hard fall for Ms. Flynn, the horn player, an engaging woman with an
explosive laugh.
Ms. Flynn said she grew up with a young mother in a single-parent household
and felt the burden of providing her with emotional support. "For me, music
was my religion," she said. "It was my reason for being. The rest of my life, I
wasn't so crazy about."
"When I got accepted and was 18, it was sort of like a dream coming true," she
said of Juilliard. "I'm going to go there, and it's going to be beautiful and
wonderful."
But she hated Juilliard from the start. "It was cold," she said. "It was
professional. That's what it's supposed to be. I was not ready for that." Before,
music had provided a sense of belonging to something greater than herself. "I
got there," she said, "and the message I received was, 'It's a business, kid.' "
The drugs and drinking came in the first two years there. Ms. Flynn took a year
off and came back, more focused on the horn. After graduation, she went back
to her original home in Portland, Ore., with hopes of working on a pilot arts
program for public schools, knowing deep down that a real go at a career would
have meant staying in New York. But she was searching for something else.
She described her questions at the time: "How can I be useful as a musician?
What's my purpose? What's my point? I was very conflicted about being a
classical musician."
Ms. Flynn, who said she became sober two and a half years ago, recently took a
tax preparation class. "I got an A," she said, laughing. "It shows I can do
something else other than play the French horn." Over Thanksgiving she
moved back to Portland, where she said she had been warmly welcomed by old
friends and was applying for jobs preparing returns.
"I feel my life is better than it's ever been," she said. "I have hope, hope in the
sense I don't have to be real specific what my life has to look like. I have an
opportunity to live it."
The sorts of questions Ms. Flynn asked about the relevance of music applied to
many of her classmates, who sometimes wondered what point there was in
playing the same war horses over and over, to what seemed to be inexorably
aging audiences.
Some sought a way to make music more immediately and directly relevant to
the world around them, like Rivka Gottlieb, a British harpist who was buffeted
by a bitter custody battle and family illness before discovering music therapy
as a career. She has just finished post-graduate training in using music in
psychological counseling and teaching the disabled from the Guildhall School
of Music and Drama in London. "To be able use to music as a tool to help
people - it's something I had always dreamed of," Ms. Gottlieb said.
ALANNA HONOR describes herself as one of those people who needed stability
and a sure way to pay the rent after graduation. She taught viola students
through her time at Juilliard, earned a public school teaching credential and
now teaches 200 third, fourth and fifth graders in the Ossining, N.Y., school
system. It is a job she clearly loves. Ms. Honor, known as Alanna Wheatley at
Juilliard before she married, still practices and plays community recitals.
"The way for me not to get bitter or depressed is to keep playing," she said. "I
had to create my own reality and performance venues. You get rejected and
can't take it personally. You have to create your own success and play for
yourself primarily. Then it doesn't matter if it's not to someone's liking."
Juilliard's uniquely high-pressure atmosphere, its fame and the brilliance of its
teachers provoke contradictory feelings about the place from its offspring.
Some alumni complain that it failed to prepare them for orchestra playing or
teaching, bread-and-butter work for musicians, or for the practical aspects of
running a career; or that it squelched creativity and individuality. Still, many
said that their Juilliard years were among the happiest of their lives, a time of
intense musical development with beloved teachers and a source of lifelong
musical collaborations.
Juilliard's president, Joseph Polisi, said he was not surprised by the number of
undergraduates who do not have performance careers. "They came in as 17- or
18-year-olds," he said in an interview. "They're very talented, they're very
focused, but at the same time they are becoming young adults and finding
themselves in ways that may not have anything to do with music." Yet he
acknowledged the prime goal was to create excellent performers.
Over the last decade, the school has developed courses in how to shape careers
or teach, but they are often electives. It requires at least one class a term in the
humanities, which most students barely tolerate. At the same time, Juilliard
has an obligation to create a "sense of excellence" by having a critical mass of
students approaching professional level, Mr. Polisi said.
"We're providing the curriculum, the tools and the experience to have a shot at
this incredibly competitive profession," he said. "But there is no guarantee."
When asked how he expected a typical class to turn out, Mr. Polisi said, "I want
them to be at peace with themselves and with whatever they are doing with
their art."
Mr. Inouye, the trumpeter, seems to have arrived at that point. Mr. Polisi
recalled him as the young man who used to joke about turning Juilliard's open
spaces into a beach volleyball court. Mr. Inouye has a wry take on the laments
of classical musicians. He tells this joke: "How do you get a musician to
complain? Give him a job. How do you keep him complaining? Give him a
better job."
Some of those interviewed who travel from gig to gig like modern troubadors
welcomed the variety but yearned for the stability of an orchestra. Orchestra
players said they liked the stability but felt stifled.
Mr. Inouye defies his own joke. "When I get tired of music, it'll be the end," he
said, "I love it. All I need is one person to inspire me or push me or find
motivation from," he said of orchestra playing.
Mr. Inouye arrived at Juilliard with valuable perspective. He had spent two
years as a civil-engineering major at the University of California, Davis. "It
exposed me to other people, other things, other backgrounds, other ways of
thinking," he said.
Blair Tindall and Tom Torok contributed additional reporting for this article.
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Francesco Geminiani
Giuseppi Tartini
Giuseppi Torelli
Antonio Vivaldi
Joseph Haydn
Wolfgang Mozart
Franz Berwald
Nicolo Paganini
Pablo de Sarasate
Louis
Spohr
Johann
Strauss
I
Johann
Strauss
II
Henryk
Wieniawski
George
Enescu
Get to Know a Critic: Alex Ross
The Record (NPR), 2012
That's Alex Ross, the classical music critic for The New Yorker magazine,
in an essay taken from his new book Listen to This, a collection of essays
first published in the magazine.
Ross began writing for The New Yorker in 1996, and in 2007 published
his first book, the excellent The Rest is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth
Century, which looks at how modern musical styles developed in the
context of world events (you can hear him read from the book here).
Noise was named one of the best books of the year by dozens of
publications and won the National Book Critics Circle Award for
Criticism.
As a critic, Ross has already written at length about how he came into
his own taste. But we wanted to know, in his own words, what his job
entails in terms of a personal philosophy as well as day-to-day routine.
So we sent him a list of questions.
When I was writing about John Cage, I lined up all of his music
chronologically all that I had on record, at least and listened
through several times. I did the same with Mozart a few years back. That
took a while, since the man wrote seven days of music. I use Bose noise-
canceling headphones when I travel. My doctor advised me to stop using
in-ear headphones while jogging, to preserve my hearing.
Do you have a routine for listening to music that you write about?
How many times do you need to listen to an album?
What are the perks of your job? Can you accept free concert
tickets/gifts/box sets/swag/lunch? What do you do with CDs you
get sent in the mail that you don't want?
I rely on press tickets to cover the classical scene; otherwise I'd have to
shell out thousands of dollars a year. Although I buy a fair number of
CDs and downloads, I depend on promotional copies to keep up with new
recordings. I give away unwanted CDs at the office. I'm not aware that
classical music has any swag! The corporate machine doesn't care about
our world it's small potatoes.
How many pieces do you write each week? How many words per
piece?
Each year I write 14 or 15 columns (around 1500 words each) and two or
three longer pieces, which may be up to 8000 or even 10,000 words long
and require months of work. I also write quite a bit on my blog,
No, with extremely rare exceptions. And I'm not complaining The New
Yorker gives me a good salary and is a very pleasant place of confinement.
7. Do you remember the first piece of music you wrote about?
Robert Simpson's Sixth and Seventh Symphonies, for my college radio
station program guide.
Have you ever changed your mind about a piece of music you
wrote about?
Are there days when you just don't want to listen to music? What
do you do when that happens?
There are stretches during the classical season October and November,
February and March, sometimes July and early August when I'm
attending a concert almost every night. It gets to be a bit much, and I
enjoy the fallow months when I go out much less often. Yes, there are
times when I don't feel like listening to music, but I never know when I'll
make an unexpected discovery, so I often push myself to venture out
even when I'd rather stay home and watch True Blood.
Which parts of your job feel like work? Which parts are fun?
All different types of music can be good, but is there a quality that
good music shares? I guess this is a way of asking if you have an
operating philosophy for determining what you like?
Your new book is called Listen to This. Are you a critic because you
feel a desire to evangelize about music? How much influence do
you feel like you have?
I don't have as much influence as the critics of The New York Times, but
when I train my little spotlight on younger, lesser-known artists I can
certainly help to win them attention. Yes, there's an element of
evangelism in my work, although I try not to thump the Bible too loudly.
Isn't every critic an evangelist at heart?
The Huffington Post
Hunter Stuart (3/11/2013)
Vienna is a city both obsessed with and spooked by the past. Its most
prestigious cultural export, the Vienna Philharmonic, has generally
presented the years between the German annexation of Austria in 1938
and the end of World War II as a tragic anomaly in an otherwise gilded
history that the orchestra is sworn to preserve. But a startlingly frank
new report posted on the orchestras website (in German only, for now)
makes it clear that when the Germans swept into Vienna, they found an
orchestra that was a ready, even eager tool of Nazi propaganda.
The report, prepared by independent historians and issued a week after
the Philharmonics three-night stint at Carnegie Hall (and a year before
its scheduled return), also suggests that Hitlers henchmen helped shape
the orchestra we know today. Those glamorous New Year's broadcasts,
the lilting Strauss waltzes with just the right intake of breath before the
upbeat, the gold-plated tours abroad, the rote invocations of Vienna as a
city of music all these apparently timeless aspects of an ancient
institution were facets of Nazi-era ambitions.
The Nazis valued the Strausses' music because it rooted the partys
ambitions in the glories of the past. Conductor Clemens Krauss had no
trouble selling the Reich Ministry of Propaganda on the idea of an all-
Strauss New Years concert for radio broadcast, inaugurating in 1939 a
tradition that has survived, still glittering, into the digital age. The
supreme irony is that the composers had Jewish forebears, and when
Goebbels found out about that, he ordered the information suppressed.
He couldnt afford to ban a Strauss. I have no desire gradually to
undermine the entire German cultural patrimony, he wrote in his
journal.
In many ways, the orchestra has hardly evolved since then. It still tries to
hire musicians born and educated in the city, who feel its unmistakably
light and unctuous timbre in their bones. The repertoire has also budged
little. It now includes Viennese composers whom the Nazis banned,
including Mahler, Berg, and Schoenberg, but it remains a fantastically
narrow list overwhelmingly local, almost entirely posthumous, and 99
percent male. The orchestra began granting full membership to women
only in 1997, and since then their numbers have soared to a grand total
of 7, out of 126 players. The Vienna Philharmonic makes the Vatican
look hip.
Seventy years ago, it was the crown jewel of a barbaric regime that saw
music as the key to cultural legitimacy. Today, its a global ambassador
of a nation that has only fitfully acknowledged its past enthusiasm for
Hitler. Next year, the orchestra returns to Carnegie Hall as the pillar of a
festival called Vienna: City of Dreams, covering a history that cuts out
circa 1925. Meanwhile, lets hope the wakeful historians keep updating
at the truth.
Voyager
Record
Contents
(1977)
Bach, Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 in F. First Movement, Munich Bach Orchestra, Karl Richter,
conductor. 4:40
Java, court gamelan, "Kinds of Flowers," recorded by Robert Brown. 4:43
Senegal, percussion, recorded by Charles Duvelle. 2:08
Zaire, Pygmy girls' initiation song, recorded by Colin Turnbull. 0:56
Australia, Aborigine songs, "Morning Star" and "Devil Bird," recorded by Sandra LeBrun Holmes.
1:26
Mexico, "El Cascabel," performed by Lorenzo Barcelata and the Mariachi Mxico. 3:14
"Johnny B. Goode," written and performed by Chuck Berry. 2:38
New Guinea, men's house song, recorded by Robert MacLennan. 1:20
Japan, shakuhachi, "Tsuru No Sugomori" ("Crane's Nest,") performed by Goro Yamaguchi. 4:51
Bach, "Gavotte en rondeaux" from the Partita No. 3 in E major for Violin, performed by Arthur
Grumiaux. 2:55
Mozart, The Magic Flute, Queen of the Night aria, no. 14. Edda Moser, soprano. Bavarian State
Opera, Munich, Wolfgang Sawallisch, conductor. 2:55
Georgian S.S.R., chorus, "Tchakrulo," collected by Radio Moscow. 2:18
Peru, panpipes and drum, collected by Casa de la Cultura, Lima. 0:52
"Melancholy Blues," performed by Louis Armstrong and his Hot Seven. 3:05
Azerbaijan S.S.R., bagpipes, recorded by Radio Moscow. 2:30
Stravinsky, Rite of Spring, Sacrificial Dance, Columbia Symphony Orchestra, Igor Stravinsky,
conductor. 4:35
Bach, The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 2, Prelude and Fugue in C, No.1. Glenn Gould, piano.
4:48
Beethoven, Fifth Symphony, First Movement, the Philharmonia Orchestra, Otto Klemperer,
conductor. 7:20
Bulgaria, "Izlel je Delyo Hagdutin," sung by Valya Balkanska. 4:59
Navajo Indians, Night Chant, recorded by Willard Rhodes. 0:57
Holborne, Paueans, Galliards, Almains and Other Short Aeirs, "The Fairie Round," performed by
David Munrow and the Early Music Consort of London. 1:17
Solomon Islands, panpipes, collected by the Solomon Islands Broadcasting Service. 1:12
Peru, wedding song, recorded by John Cohen. 0:38
China, ch'in, "Flowing Streams," performed by Kuan P'ing-hu. 7:37
India, raga, "Jaat Kahan Ho," sung by Surshri Kesar Bai Kerkar. 3:30
"Dark Was the Night," written and performed by Blind Willie Johnson. 3:15
Beethoven, String Quartet No. 13 in B flat, Opus 130, Cavatina, performed by Budapest String
Quartet. 6:37
Adjusting
Medication
May
Prolong
Levines
Tenure
at
the
Met
By
MICHAEL
COOPER
FEB.
1,
2016
NY
Times
The stage was being set to announce the retirement of James Levine,
the music director of the Metropolitan Opera since 1976, after his
longstanding health woes seemed to worsen this season to the point
that singers and musicians were having difficulty following his
conducting.
But then Mr. Levine and Peter Gelb, the Mets general manager, paid
a visit last week to his neurologist for an update on his condition
and the doctor gave Mr. Levine an 11th-hour reprieve, saying that Mr.
Levines most serious problems could probably be solved by adjusting
the dosage of a medication that he has been taking for Parkinsons
disease.
The news cheered Mr. Levine, who had been saddened by the thought
that his illness might force him to step down. I hope hes right,
because I love the Met company more than I can describe, the
conductor said on Monday evening in an interview at the office of his
neurologist, Dr. Stanley Fahn.
You are probably aware of the concept of Six Degrees of
Separationthe premise that all human beings on the planet are
related. Well, here is another case in point. This article from
todays NY Times may seem remote to you but there is a
connection. In 1958 I was a student at the Aspen Music Festival
in Colorado and Jimmy Levine stayed in the same motel, Eds
Beds, in the room next to mine for the eight weeks of the summer.
Mr. van Zwedens tasks at the Philharmonic will include more than
music-making. He will be the orchestras public face as it works to
raise $360 million to renovate David Geffen Hall and to bolster its
endowment; act as the leading artistic voice as the hall is redesigned;
and be charged with making sure that the orchestra manages to retain
its audience when construction, which is slated to start in 2019, leaves
it homeless for at least two seasons.
Its a challenging time, but it is also a time where I would say that
there are an incredible amount of possibilities, Mr. van Zweden said
in an interview at his Midtown Manhattan hotel.
While his vision for the Philharmonic is not yet clear, Mr. van Zweden
is less associated with contemporary composers than Mr. Gilbert is,
suggesting a possible shift of emphasis. Mr. Gilbert, who has led the
orchestra since 2009, was praised for championing new pieces and
making them central to his tenure, but drew criticism in some
quarters for his work in Mozart, Beethoven and Brahms the so-
called standard repertory, of which Mr. van Zweden is known for
delivering crackling performances.
But Mr. van Zweden said that he looked forward to playing more
contemporary music at the Philharmonic, noting that in his days
leading the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, he conducted
world premieres every week or two. It was a fantastic time, to work
with composers who are still alive, he said, adding that he enjoyed
the ability to ask for their input on how pieces should be played. Its
a luxury I think we should treasure as conductors, because, you know,
you cannot go back to Mahler or to Beethoven or Mozart.
A Composers Complaint
Stephen Jablonsky
Like the composer, the young girl may meet her progeny sometime in the future only to
discover that the child was not raised in a fashion she would have chosen. Often, when
the composer finally gets to hear the work in question the performance either does not
conform to a preconceived interpretation or it is badly played (composition abuse?).
Usually, even the best of performances does not measure up to the state of perfection in
which the piece was originally conceived in the composers imagination.
That was in the old days when, with pen or pencil in hand, the composer spent weeks or
months bent over the composition table trying to imagine the tonal possibilities for an
imaginary ensemble.
Today things are different. We have MIDI (Musical Instrument Digital Interface) which
means that, with a synthesizer and a computer, we composers need no longer dream of
hypothetical ensembles-- they are at our fingertips. In the past ten years, the pencil has
been replaced by the mouse. Now, however, we are no longer like that pregnant
teenager, we are more like Pinocchios Papa Geppetto. We can create a living being, but
it is mechanical, almost wooden. No matter how hard we try, it is not real. MIDI does
allow us to immediately test our compositional theories but still we dream that someday a
group of great musicians will bring our wooden puppet to life before a thunderously
applauding Carnegie Hall audience. The review in The New York Times the next
morning proclaims our genius to the world (O.K., time to stop dreaming).
It is fortunate that we compose classical music to satisfy some inner need, for, if we
depended upon our craft to earn us a decent living, it might be eons before we could put
enough bread on the table to feed a family of four. Meanwhile, we carry on, creating
beauty for beautys sake, realizing that, even for the most successful of us, the rewards of
recognition and appreciation are meager at best when compared with the adulation
awarded to stars of popular music. Did you know, for example, that while a gold album
in popular music represents the sale of a million disks, in the classical genre is represents
only 50,000? Think hard! How many classical musicians do you remember seeing at the
Grammys? Maybe its time to change the term Classical Music to Unpopular Music.
Some suggest that this unpopularity is deserved because our musical language has
become too difficult to understand on first hearing, which is generally the only chance a
classical composer gets. Viewed in perspective, it is hard to imagine that the musical
monuments of the past were ever easy to appreciate in their own time.
Maybe Unpopular Music really isnt for everyone. After all, the Big Mac and the ham
and cheese sandwich are much more popular than Sole Meuniere, Peking Duck and Beef
Wellington. And it may be more than just a matter of taste or budget. If everyone had
the cash, would they spend it on haute cuisine on a daily basis? Maybe yes, probably no.
It does seem that our recent obsession with Lite cuisine has carried over to our listening
preferences.
Should, then, the music of Bach, Mozart and Wagner, like rich food, be enjoyed only
rarely, on special occasions? While each of us must decide what our daily diet of culture
will be, most would agree that Unpopular Music should play at least some small part.
But if that is so, why must that small part consist, mostly, of the contributions of
deceased Unpopular composers? Are we living composers doomed to receive our just
desserts only in heaven?
When we look at the array of Unpopular music being played in concert halls and the
media, we realize that only a handful of talent is represented. What about the forgotten
ones, those untold thousands of composers whose music is virtually lost to us on dusty
library shelves, in lonesome archives, and even refuse dumps? Are they like minor
league ball players hoping to be discovered? Must they always dream of next season?
Maybe even the minor leagues are a dream--for most of them are like Sunday afternoon
softballers. Often, they are not even footnotes to hardball history. Does the fact that
WNCN (FM) and WQXR (AM) dumped their classical formats indicate that, even for the
few well-known Unpopular composers, the playing field is getting smaller all the time?
Ultimately, we must ask ourselves if there is there a place, or even a need, for the output
of the myriad forgotten composers, those who have no difficulty quantifying their
obscurity. It is possible that their contribution is purely statistical-- that, in order to
produce its Beethovens, a society must have a significantly large number of composers
toiling away so that, from among this vast number, a few may rise to the top and
represent the efforts of their generation. If it sounds like ants or bees, maybe there is a
parallel. It may seem strange to think of composers, those lofty artists, as cultural drones,
but the description may be very appropriate.
Of course, this complaint should not be limited to the creation of music. It pertains to all
the arts and, by extension, to every human endeavor. This means that most everyone,
even many of the stars, suffers the same malady. What, then, is the cure we all seek?
Is it love, recognition, appreciation, pride? How about all four, and more? Thats what
makes us human. Wait a minute...
Case
in
point:
earlier
this
week
I
came
upon
the
entry
for
Leon
Dudley,
otherwise
known
as
Kaikhosru
Sorabji.
His
entry
began
with
the
word
remarkable
so
I
continued
reading
with
great
interest.
Upon
finishing
I
got
up
and
went
to
my
computer
to
YouTube
this
fellow
to
see
just
how
remarkable
his
music
might
be.
Well,
the
music
that
I
heard
was
definitely
arresting
and
challenging.
I
am
not
sure
whether
this
fellow
was
a
genius
or
a
lunatic,
which
begs
the
question,
Is
there
a
difference?
Regardless
of
the
final
judgment,
it
is
obvious
that
this
fellows
music
is
worth
a
listen.
I
checked
for
his
name
in
my
sixth
edition
of
Grout/Palisca
and
he
is
absent.
He
did
not
make
the
cut.
Not
surprisingly,
he
is
not
alone.
I
have
read
about,
and
then
researched,
dozens
of
Baker
denizens
and
they
have
all
seem
to
have
disappeared
into
the
fog
of
history.
Thinking
about
this
situation
prompted
me
to
envision
my
understanding
of
music
as
analogous
to
the
Connect
the
Dots
drawings
of
my
youth.
If
I
remember
correctly,
you
open
to
a
particular
page
and
you
see
nothing
but
dots
and
perhaps
a
few
line
drawing
hints
to
help
you
get
started.
If
you
stare
long
enough
you
realize
that
if
you
connect
the
dots
correctly
you
can
create
something
that
looks
like
a
horse
or
a
schoolhouse.
Well,
that
is
how
I
now
picture
my
understanding
of
musicas
a
widely
spaced
collection
of
intellectual
dots
that
I
connect
only
in
my
imagination.
The
intellectual
magnetism
that
connects
these
dots
gives
me
the
appearance
of
solidity
much
like
the
particles
in
the
subatomic
world
but,
like
those
particles,
they
are
not
really
solid
and
seem
to
jump
around
a
lot
when
I
look
at
them
closely.
In
attempting
to
quantify
my
knowledge
I
realize
that
most
of
my
education,
both
formal
and
personal,
has
been
devoted
to
a
relatively
small
number
of
greatly
talented
composers
and
performers,
mostly
American
and
European,
who
are
truly
only
the
tip
of
the
iceberg.
Much
of
what
I
know
of
music
has
been
determined
by
the
path
I
have
traveled.
After
graduating
from
CCNY
I
went
to
Harvard
where
I
met
Pierre
Boulez
and
Leon
Kirchner
and
got
to
know
them
and
their
music
quite
well.
One
of
my
classmates
went
on
to
study
at
Princeton
where
he
worked
with
Earl
Kim.
I
mention
Kim
in
particular
because
I
did
not
know
his
music
until
recently.
He
was
a
Korean-
American
of
prodigious
abilities
and
wrote
some
really
lovely
music
that
escaped
my
purview
until
recently.
My
second
wife
is
Korean-born
and
the
son
of
her
best
friend
is
a
conductor
who
performed
some
of
Kims
songs
at
a
concert
last
year
and,
by
doing
so,
shone
a
light
in
that
little
corner
of
the
musical
universe
for
me.
Thank
you,
Yoon
Jae.
One
of
the
saving
graces
of
having
lived
almost
seven
decades
is
the
comforting
awareness
that
I
know
almost
nothing.
I
seem
to
know
just
enough
about
myself
that
I
am
no
stranger
to
my
foibles
and
shortcomings,
and
I
know
just
enough
about
people
and
life
to
enjoy
the
daily
gifts
that
fate
bestows
upon
me,
and
I
know
just
enough
about
music
theory
and
composition
to
be
able
to
write
some
charming
pieces
that
pose
no
great
threat
to
the
masters,
but
I
know
almost
nothing
about
musicbarely
enough
to
call
myself
professor.
In
truth,
I
continue
to
be
more
of
student
than
a
professor,
and
I
am
grateful
that
my
career
as
educator
has
allowed
me
to
be
both
to
the
fullest
possible
measure.
In
my
youth,
my
arrogance
allowed
me
to
believe
that
I
could
know
music
just
as
some
astronomers
believe
they
can
wrap
their
minds
around
the
universe
or
some
theologians
believe
than
can
comprehend
God,
but
I
am
in
a
more
realistic
place
now
that
allows
me
to
enjoy
my
role
as
explorer,
not
conqueror.
Music as Narrative
Stephen Jablonsky
Let us remember that music is both magical and mysterious, and, because
of that, untold amounts of energy and intelligence have been spent trying to
explain it with varying degrees of success. Sometimes I wonder if musical
analysis is a fools errand best kept to ones self. Music, because it occurs
over time, is narrative in the sense that it presents a sequence of musical
events that may or may not be related to each other. It is narrative in a
language that is perceived and understood in different ways by each listener.
Our brain processes the incoming aural data relative to what it already
knows about other music. It also operates on various levels of cognition
based on prior musical training and experience. It is even possible that we
listen to the alternative realities of music simultaneously, but focus or blur
our attention depending on our purpose of listening.
I have always contended that a musical masterpiece is greater than the sum
all the theories that try to explain it. I sometimes find myself reading the
most erudite of scholarly reporting only to realize that all those diagrams,
charts, and verbal descriptions are like analyzing the muscle and tissue of a
cadaver. The magic and mystery of music is analogous to the spark of life
that animates the body, and like doctors, music theorists marvel at its
indescribable beauty. Great music bristles with the spark of genius and its
effect stays with us long after we experience it. Music of lesser quality
merely survives during its performances and is soon forgot.
Great films (and great music) are great from the first scene to the last and
never flag. We are swept up and carried through time without any
awareness of its duration. It holds our attention the way a hypnotist
controls our awareness. Good luck to all those who attempt to explain the
power of the trance. Each masterpiece is the product of great skill and craft,
but at no time are we aware of the technical genius that undergirds the
work. What sweeps us away is the emotional ride we are taken on as we
explore the heights and depths of the human experience. A great watch
keeps perfect time without our understanding how the inner works operate.
The genius that went into creating the watch mechanism is best appreciated
only by other watchmakers.
I close by sharing with you a visual experience very much like listening to
musicwatching clouds float by on a warm summer afternoon. The
exquisite aesthetic of that experience defies description and has, to my
knowledge, not yet prompted the formation of a Society of Cumulus
Theorists.
Popular and Unpopular Music
Yesterday I was meeting with a new member of our faculty, Ran Dank, who
will be teaching a section of Music 15400 and he mentioned that he was going
to give a concert in Poland soon that included the music of a Jew who had died
in a Nazi concentration camp. He didn't mention the composers name because
he may have figured that I wouldn't know about him, but, as luck would have
it, a previous professor in our department, Fred Hauptman, had turned me on
to the music of Erwin Schulhoff maybe twenty years ago when little of his
music was available in print or recording. Because it is Friday night, and I have
finished my shabbas meal, I went to YouTube and checked out what is available
by Schulhoff and was delighted to see how much of his stuff is there. The last
piece I listened to was his Fifth Symphony which has no title so I am calling it
"Man of Steel Symphony (Stalin). This is one of the most muscle bound
pieces I have ever heard and if you are a brass lover you will go nuts, especially
if you like the trombone.
I share this piece with you because I enjoyed it (I was a trumpet player back in
the day) and was the 285th person on the planet to hear this version on
YouTube. 285 out of maybe 1 billion people with access to a computer! You
see, there is popular music and then there is unpopular music, and 285 hits
would put Schulhoff well down on the list of the unpopular. In case you need
the contemporary standard, one of Lady Gaga's Edge of Glory website has had
24 million hits so far. Now that's popular! But, fear not, there are dead white
guys from Vienna who do make the charts big time. Beethoven's Fur Elise by
Ivo Pogorelich has had 15 million visits--so there. Take that! I am guessing
that, if you put all the Fur Elise websites together, Ludwig might even do better
than some of Britneys best stuff.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XMr7BRQ2Ycg
Stephen
Jablonsky
Inspired
Improbabilities
Stephen
Jablonsky
What
is
the
difference
between
competent
music
and
great
music?
For
me,
it
is
what
I
call
inspired
improbabilitiesthose
musical
events
that
simultaneously
surprise
and
delight
us.
They
always
come
at
just
the
right
moment
when
the
piece
needs
that
special
something
to
keep
the
listener
fully
engaged
and
continuously
amazed.
I
suspect
they
come
from
that
inner
voice
that
resides
within
all
creative
people
that
says,
Do
this
now.
The
rational
mind
responds,
Are
you
kidding?
Thats
crazy
stuff!
The
great
artists
have
always
listened
to
that
inner
voice
because
it
is
processing
and
juggling
data
in
ways
the
rational
mind
cannot
begin
to
fathom.
Our
inner
voice
is
nurtured
by
all
that
it
ingests
while
we
listen
and
practice.
It
seems
to
have
a
genius
all
its
own,
and
tends
to
exert
discretion
and
playfulness
in
equal
measure.
I
have
always
enjoyed
the
interaction
between
the
composer
and
the
composition
I
am
writing
at
the
moment.
The
farther
I
get
into
the
compositional
process
the
more
the
piece
seems
to
take
on
a
life
of
its
own.
There
are
special
moments
when
the
piece
informs
me
of
what
it
needs
to
do
next.
I
always
attend
to
this
command
even
though
it
seems
to
go
against
everything
I
was
taught
or
thought
to
be
correct
practice.
I
have
to
respect
the
needs
of
the
piece
when
it
wants
to
go
in
directions
I
had
not
originally
planned
for
the
musical
journey.
I
trust
that
the
listener
will
experience
heightened
neural
activity
when
they
hear
these
special
moments
because
the
act
of
adding
them
to
the
creative
mix
gives
me
a
tingle.
Every
composer
learns
his
craft
from
studying
with
other
composers
and
gleaning
important
lessons
from
countless
hours
of
listening
and
study
of
scores.
What
he
does
with
that
craft
will
be
profoundly
affected
by
his
ability
to
go
beyond
what
he
has
been
given.
By
thinking
outside
the
box
he
creates
a
new
box
where
he
may
reside
for
a
period
of
time
before
moving
on.
If
properly
constructed,
those
boxes
will
contain
the
inspired
improbabilities
that
will
elevate
the
piece
from
safe
and
comfortable
to
daring
and
exhilarating--from
craft
to
art.
There
is
a
difference
between
a
piece
that
travels
well
along
the
ground
and
one
that
takes
off
and
flies.
The
magic
that
creates
the
fliers
cannot
be
fully
comprehended,
reduced
to
formula,
or
repackaged
for
future
use.
There
are
no
algorithms
for
taste.
Taste
is
the
innate
ability
to
discern
the
difference
between
good,
adequate,
and
unacceptable.
If
properly
employed
it
prompts
us
to
never
settle
for
less
than
the
best.
It
seems
that
the
impeccable
taste
of
the
great
masters
was
always
operating
at
the
maximum
while
many
famous
composers
I
can
think
of
had
good
days
and
bad.
The
joy
of
listening
to
great
music
derives
from
an
indefinable
awareness
that
what
we
hear
is
the
product
of
a
supreme
talent
creating
something
new
at
the
highest
level
of
output.
The
magic
of
the
experience
results
from
the
genius
of
a
compositional
practice
that
is
exquisite
and
an
editing
process
to
match.
There
is
a
truth
in
the
beauty
of
the
thing
that
cannot
be
denied
nor
defined.
At
the
end
of
a
great
performance
of
a
great
piece
there
is
an
intellectual
and
emotional
exhalation
that
says,
Yes,
that
is
how
it
must
be!
Whenever
I
hear
a
piece
of
music
I
always
feel
like
I
am
being
told
a
story
in
sound.
As
a
theorist
I
have
never
been
able
to
discover
why
certain
pieces
seem
to
be
telling
an
important
story
while
others
seem
to
be
well-constructed
musical
palaver.
It
may
have
something
to
do
with
the
power
of
an
idea,
but
I
am
never
quite
certain
how
to
quantify
that
musical
power
or
express
it
in
words.
I
think,
like
most
people,
I
can
sense
when
I
am
in
the
presence
of
greatness.
Hearing
the
first
phrase
of
a
great
composition
is
like
the
opening
scene
of
a
great
drama,
or
the
first
page
of
a
great
book,
because
it
is
immediately
intriguing
and
gives
the
audience
a
strong
sense
of
the
artistic
trajectory
that
will
propel
the
action
to
the
last
scene
or
page.
We
then
follow
the
travails
with
rapt
attention
and
seem
to
disappear
into
the
story
along
with
the
characters.
When
properly
done,
we
should
lose
all
sense
of
time,
and
maybe
even
place.
When
the
curtain
finally
falls
we
are
aware
that
we
have
been
on
an
extraordinary
journey.
The
course
of
events
took
us
where
we
needed
to
go
and
cadenced
successfully
at
just
the
right
time
and
place.
If
the
experience
was
truly
great,
all
we
can
say
is,
Wow!
Epilogue:
Several
years
ago
I
went
to
a
concert
that
was
so
boring
I
kept
checking
my
watch
during
the
first
half.
During
the
second
half
I
kept
checking
my
calendar.
The
Goldberg
Variations
Stephen
Jablonsky
Towards the end of the semester, when there was some extra cash in the
departmental till, I asked my faculty if there were some DVDs they would
like to order for use next semester. Among the suggestions was a film by
Bruno Monsaingeon entitled Hereafter, a biography of Glenn Gould. I
ordered the film, and when it arrived I watched it intrigued by the
strangeness and brilliance of the Canadians life. Much of the film was spent
on his first recording, the Goldberg Variations of Bach.
The power of the film stayed with me into the next day, so I decided to put
the CD of the Variations in the player in my car so I could refresh my
memory of this keyboard monument of the Baroque. I played it as I travelled
down the Merritt Parkway and onto the Hutch. All was well and good until
Glenn got to the 25th variation. It was then that my life was knocked slightly
out of the orbit it had been travelling. My ears were telling me that some
heavy harmonic stuff was going down and I struggled to grasp what was
unfolding. The dark narrative of this piece takes twists and turns that
challenge the listener to stay with the tonality. As the variation neared the
end I had the impression that this little piece of magic seemed to be just one
step away from Tristan and two short steps away from early Schoenberg.
The problem is that Bach was writing in 1742, Tristan was 1859, and
Verklaerte Nacht was 1899. How could one step be 117 years, and two steps
be 157 years? The only explanation I can come up with is that Bach was
composing this variation somewhat out of the time/space continuum, in
some timeless place where all geniuses occasionally find themselves in
pursuit of universal truth and beauty.
I am reporting all this to you so that you will understand how the tranquility
of my first week of summer vacation has been unsettled by the myriad
compositional problems that have been thrust upon me as a guy who
cannot resist the temptation to analyze a piece that beckons me. How could
any obsessive theorist rest easily when there are questions to be answered,
and so many knots to be unraveled? Bach must have known that, from time
to time, even 268 years later, a musician coming upon this cultural artifact
would be challenged to unlock its mysteries. I can report that I have already
spent two hours this morning doing some preliminary analysis and I can see
that this piece is like a musical Venus flytrap. Its savory flavors entice me to
enter but I know there will be no exit. I am sorely tempted to get to the
bottom of this matter, but having gone down two layers already I am not
sure there is a bottom, or, if there is a bottom I am not worthy of diving that
deep.
From what little I understand of these variations, it seems Bach did the pre-
jazz thing of dumping the melody and keeping the bass line as the
foundation for the thirty variations. In number 25 he adds chromatic
passing tones to the otherwise diatonic line and then adds a sequence-
based melody that gets really scary almost immediately. In the second
measure the tonal center shifts from G minor to F minor! If one of my
students had written a sequence that moves immediately to VIIm in the
second measure I would mark it wrong, or at least highly questionable.
When I found that Bach put the bass line in the tenor starting in measure 9
thats when I knew it was going to be rough going from hereon in, and that
is why I am taking a little break from looking at all those divinely-inspired
notes and am coming up for air. Returning to a piece that, like Tristan, has
a harmonic narrative that is continually obscured by a profusion of non-
harmonic tones that come too soon and often resolve way late might be just
the thing for some cold winter afternoon, but, hey, it is June, and this piece
is December.
Soon it will be lunchtime and I will have to leave my study and disconnect
from Mr. Gould and his Goldberg madness. The question is: when will I
return to continue this excavation? After lunch I could do any number of
fun things in a warm summer afternoon, or I could return to my desk and
continue digging with the eventual possibility of writing an article in which I
share my amazing discoveries with a few friends and colleagues. There is a
remote possibility it might even be published years from now and be read
from start to finish by as many as five theorists spread across the globe. I
know one thing: the more time I spend with this piece the more I will realize
how wide is the gulf between Johann Sebastian Bach and all the rest of us
poor wretches.
What should I do? I am open to suggestion.
Mahler
Apotheosis
Stephen
Jablonsky
The
fourth
and
final
movement
of
Mahlers
Ninth
Symphony
is,
without
doubt,
one
of
the
great
finales
in
the
history
of
symphonic
music.
Its
slow,
majestic
demeanor
describes
a
farewell
to
life
that
is
profound
at
the
beginning
and
becomes
ethereal
as
the
movement
draws
its
last
breath.
Recently,
listening
to
this
piece
brought
to
mind
two
questions
for
which
I
am
not
sure
there
are
hard
and
fast
answers.
It
is
even
possible
that
there
are
no
answers,
a
prospect
that
may
reinforce
their
importance.
Every
measure
of
this
masterpiece
is
filled
with
almost
magical
musical
materials
that
force
me
as
theorist
to
ponder
why
it
is
that
some
music
seems
to
be
saying
something
important
while
other
well-crafted
pieces
I
have
encountered
seem
to
utter
very
eloquent
but
vapid
musical
narratives,
what
Shakespeare
called
much
ado
about
nothing.
The
second
question
concerns
the
ability
of
the
music
to
transcend
this
level
of
importance
and
rise
to
some
exalted
place
that
seems
to
be
the
very
apotheosis
of
the
entire
score.
There
are
four
such
measures
that
appear
on
p.
170
of
the
orchestral
score
(mm.5-8)
that
haunt
me
every
time
I
hear
them.
They
seem
to
be
the
distilled
essence
of
the
entire
symphony
and
utter
some
special
truth
about
the
human
spirit
for
which
I
have
no
words.
Marked
dolcissimo,
this
passages
poignant
affect
has
never
faltered
since
I
first
heard
it
as
an
undergraduate
a
half
century
ago.
There
is
another
such
musical
moment
that
I
know
of
that
does
the
same
magic
trick
as
the
Mahler.
It
is
a
two-measure
fragment,
measures
81
and
82,
in
the
fabulous
love
duet,
Bess,
You
Is
My
Woman
Now
from
George
Gershwins
opera,
Porgy
and
Bess.
Each
measure
contains
the
same
four-note
descending
scale
harmonized
with
different
chords.
This
is
the
moment
where
the
two
lovers
commit
to
each
other
and
the
effect
is
devastating.
There
is
a
poignancy
that
is
indescribably
powerful
and
never
fails
to
bring
tears
to
my
eyes.
These
two
bars
transcend
human
understanding
as
only
music
can
do.
I
have
spent
my
entire
professional
career
investigating
the
structure
of
musical
masterpieces
and
attempting
to
transmit
my
findings
to
my
students
and
colleagues,
but
I
have
never
attempted
to
answer
philosophical
questions
such
as
these.
I
have
studied
the
linear
and
harmonic
elements
of
this
musical
fragment
that
lasts
just
thirty
seconds
until
I
was
blue
in
the
face
and
I
am
still
no
closer
to
an
answer
than
I
was
when
I
started.
All
of
which
begs
the
question,
When
you
are
confronted
by
magic
is
it
in
your
best
interest
to
know
how
the
trick
is
done?
I
am
almost
ready
to
conclude
that
the
answer
to
that
question
is
no,
for
child-like
wonder
may
be
a
precious
gift
to
be
cherished
and
preserved,
especially
by
theorists
in
their
golden
years.
Modern
Music:
A
Personal
Viewpoint
Stephen
Jablonsky
Many
years
ago
I
went
to
a
modern
music
festival
that
Pierre
Boulez
conducted
with
the
London
Philharmonic.
Over
the
course
of
three
evenings
he
played
many
of
the
orchestral
masterpieces
of
the
first
half
of
the
20th
century.
Each
piece
was
beautifully
performed
and
intriguing
to
hear,
but
something
amazing
happened
when
he
played
the
final
pieceStravinskys
Petrushka.
During
the
performance
I
realized
how
dark
and
angry
all
the
other
pieces
were
in
comparison
to
the
brightness
and
glitter
of
Petrushka's
bristling
sonorities.
A
great
deal
of
the
neurosis
and
madness
of
the
20th
century
found
its
way
into
its
music,
and
the
expressionists
were,
probably,
the
worst
of
the
bunch.
If
you
look
at
Schoenbergs
paintings
you
will
have
a
better
idea
why
much
of
his
music
sounds
the
way
it
does.
He
needed
more
time
on
Freuds
couch.
I
love
Debussys
music
because
his
structures
are
as
exquisitely
complicated
as
the
other
moderns
but
his
stuff
is
beautiful
from
beginning
to
end.
Ravel
deliberately
put
a
modicum
of
dissonance
into
his
music
but
even
that
spice
is
sweet.
Some
modern
music,
especially
pieces
written
in
the
second
half
of
the
20th
century,
went
off
track
when
it
got
so
obtuse
that
the
audience
could
not
remember
three
notes
when
they
left
the
theater.
Many
of
the
moderns
forgot
that
music
is
about
drama,
not
serial
calculations
and
note
sequencing.
To
be
modern
is
not,
in
and
of
itself,
a
virtue.
Modern
does
not
have
to
be
difficult,
or
even
offensive.
Melody
is
not
a
bad
thing
every
once
and
a
while.
There
is
something
very
pleasurable
about
singing
along
with
every
note
in
Prokofievs
music.
People
do
like
to
sing
along
whether
at
camp
or
at
Carnegie.
OK,
maybe
they
do
not
have
to
sing
the
whole
thing,
but
they
have
to
hum
something
on
the
way
home
from
the
concert.
Modern
jazz
has
suffered
the
same
fate
as
classical
music.
When
it
abandoned
the
idea
of
being
danceable
or
tuneful
it
lost
its
audience
and
its
revenue.
Picture
a
ballroom
filled
with
hundreds
of
people
jiving
to
the
Count
Basie
band.
Then,
picture
a
small
jazz
club
on
52nd
Street
or
in
the
Village
where
a
handful
of
avid
listeners
are
wondering
when,
and
if,
the
tune
will
ever
come
back.
The
musicians
are
digging
the
improvisations
but
the
audience
has
been
disconnected
from
the
primal
essence
of
music.
They
are
dazzled
by
the
intellect
and
the
technique
but
are
befuddled
and
lost
much
of
the
time.
Some
music
provides
intellectual
joy
while
other
music
attends
to
important
emotional
needs.
Great
music
does
both.
Sometimes
the
theory
of
modern
compositional
practice
got
in
the
way
of
the
music.
Think
about
the
intriguing,
influential
philosophies
of
Cage
in
comparison
to
his
often
insipid
music.
In
much
of
his
music
he
gave
up
control
of
the
compositional
process,
and
this
is
problematic
because
it
is
the
sonic
evidence
of
a
brilliant
mind
at
work
that
delights
and
fascinates
us.
Webern's
late
stuff
is
as
devoid
of
emotion
as
the
late
experiments
of
Mondrian--fascinating
but
cold,
made
for
the
head,
not
the
heart.
The
application
of
abstraction
in
art
and
music
is
a
process
where
the
details
are
distilled
away
and
only
the
essence
is
left.
In
Webern
what
you
are
left
with
is
a
few
well-chosen
tones
in
a
relatively
thin
texture.
The
audience
is
expected
to
savor
each
pitch
but
may
arrive
at
the
end
of
the
experience
still
feeling
hungry.
Antons
later
music
often
reminds
me
of
a
meal
of
hors
doeuvres.
On
the
way
home
I
feel
like
stopping
for
a
Whopper.
So,
what
is
at
the
heart
of
the
problem?
If
the
audience
cannot
follow
the
musical
narrative
that
is
being
told
then
it
is
all
just
a
lot
of
smoke
and
mirrors,
or
worse--musical
blah-blah.
Music
must
first
be
engaging
and
entertaining,
and
then
it
can
be
art.
It
needs
to
be
magical.
It
is
already
mysterious.
Most
of
all,
there
must
be
a
significant
and
palpable
connection
between
the
humanity
of
the
composer
and
the
hearts
and
minds
of
the
audience.
Good Math, Bad Music
Stephen Jablonsky
A possible reason that much contemporary music has never been well
received may be that too many composers got lost in the number games of
20th century compositional practice. While it is true that all composers play
mind games with themselves in the process of creating music, many
luminaries in the generation that included the likes of Pierre Boulez (b.
1925) and Milton Babbitt (b. 1916) lost sight of the fact that people are
mostly emotional beings, not numerical calculators (Sacred Hearts, not
Sacred Brains). Too many of the works from that period are brilliantly
calculated but are devoid of the color, mood, and passion that can move an
audience to tears or rapture.
It is too often the case that good math does not make good music.
1
Chronicle of the NonPop Revolution, Kalvos.org/johness4.html
Stravinsky: A Short Take
Stephen Jablonsky
Stephen Jablonsky
Quite a number of years ago I made a visit to the opening of the new
Tower Records store at Lincoln Center and was delightfully surprised at
how large the classical music CD section was. I figured this was the place
to add special recordings of contemporary works to my already sizable
collection. I walked around to the places devoted to some of my favorites.
Much to my dismay I discovered that the space devoted to Stockhausen
had only three CDs in it and it caused me to think that times had
certainly changed.
Back in the fifties and sixties Karlheinz was one of the giants of the avant
garde. Every time he gave a concert in NYC it was a major event attended
by all 200 lovers of contemporary music, mostly university types like
myself (200 out of a total population of 7 million!). Well, here it was
twenty years later and this giant had been relegated to a footnote of
history by the paucity of commercial square footage. I was always in awe
of his prodigious output and the fertility of his unique mind. How could it
be possible that there were only 3 CDs representing his total output? It
caused me to think about what success in the classical composition field
really means.
In the course of doing interviews for thirty years now, I have been portable. That is to say, I
have usually gone to my guests at their hotels or apartments, backstage at their performing
venues, or even to their homes when I have been traveling. A few conversations were done
at the radio station and the occasional other odd location, such as a quiet restaurant, an alcove
in a hotel mezzanine, and even an unused conference room at OHare airport! Then there
were a few which were done at my own studio. Having guests in my home is always a
distinct pleasure, and when I could persuade a composer or performer to set aside a bit of
time while en route elsewhere, I had a nice place to chat and enjoy a cup of coffee. Later I
was often able to take them out for a genuine Chicago Pizza...
When I first contacted composer Leslie Bassett, he indicated that he came to Chicago on
occasion, and we agreed to meet during his next trip. In June of 1987, he and his wife
arrived at my home and we settled in for a nice conversation. What follows is that
encounter . . . . .
Bruce Duffie: First, let me ask you about winning the Pulitzer Prize. Has that had any great
lasting effect on you or your composing?
Leslie Bassett: It brought me a better salary at the University of Michigan, which is nice, but
it didnt bring as many performances of the Variations itself as you would have
thought. You would have assumed that the orchestra piece that wins the Pulitzer Prize then
would be used. In fact, my publisher did send the score around to a lot of orchestras
somewhat later, because it wasnt published right then. But it hasnt had as many
performances as you would have expected, and I found that disappointing. I talked with
Michael Colgrass not too long ago, and he was complaining also that his Pulitzer Prize
orchestra piece had not been played a second time, or at least not more than once, until it was
done by Louisiana State University when he was there as guest composer two or three years
ago. And he found this strangea piece that presumably is considered good isnt
immediately grabbed by orchestras. I think theres a certain amount of promotional things
that have to be done, and if you have agents and publishers who are very aggressive in this
regard and feel they can invest throwing away most of the scores, then I think maybe theres
some chance of it. But its a very touchy business. But it has made a lot of difference, in fact,
because when you go to a town and youre discussed, or comments are made by local
newspapers, they all know its the Pulitzer Prize, so they give it coverage.
BD: How difficult is it to get second performances of anything, Pulitzer Prize or no?
LB: It depends, I suppose, on an awful lot of things. Young composers have an awful lot
of trouble getting second performances if they dont have a national name and if their piece
was performed well by, lets say, a good community orchestra or one of the minor major
orchestras. Its very hard to get a second performance. There are a lot of composers in the
United States.
LB: No, not too many, but there are an awful lot of them, and they all have orchestra
pieces! Theres a lot of competition for comparatively few slots on an orchestras
season. Some orchestras are doing better than others, as you know, but a lot of orchestras
play very little new music, even yet. I think things are improving, but its not ideal.
LB: Theres a competition every year; they dont award it every year.
BD: I was just wondering if maybe some of the big orchestras should, say, six months after
the Pulitzer Prize is normally awarded, play that work, and if theres no Pulitzer Prize that
year, then a previous one?
LB : That would be a lovely idea. I understand that the Albany Symphony intends to do
some of the past Pulitzer Prize pieces over the next few years. Somebody was telling me
this. Its a good idea.
BD: Are all of the pieces that win the Pulitzer Prize really worthy of winning?
LB: This is a very subjective question, and a very subjective answer would be yes, I
suppose. But theres an awful lot of variety in pieces that have won it over the years. I think
on the whole, they have all been really quite good. I dont know of any real lemons, for
instance. I know some that I like better than others. There are always complaints by various
people that the prize should have gone to something else, other than what did receive
it. Sometimes a very small piece of chamber music is pooh-poohed by people who wrote
orchestral pieces; they think the orchestral piece should have picked it off. The one this past
year is a fairly modest score George Perles Wind Quintet which is unusual. Of course,
we know Elliott Carters two String Quartets have won it over the years, so theres a lot of
variety. But it tends to go to the blockbuster piece; it tends to go to the piece that has made a
big splash, which usually means orchestral playing. [Names which are links refer to my
interviews elsewhere on this website.]
BD: How do you feel the afternoon of a big premiere, before the evening of a major work?
BD: Does it get any easier if its the third, or fifth, or eighth production of the work?
LB: Oh yes. After that, after the premiere or maybe two or three performances, the piece
has to go on its own. Youve cut it loose, and thats that.
LB: I dont say never, but usually not. There are times when I change the metronome
marks and Ive added a couple of measures or a fermata or something to the score. Maybe I
will put in a ritard or something like this, which seemed to improve the piece.
BD: When youre actually working on the piece in your workshop, how do you know when
youve finished it? How do you know when its ready to be performed?
LB: I dont know how Id answer that. Its a matter of intuition, musical intuition. First of
all, you know how long the piece needs to be, more or less. If you get a commission for a
fifteen minute piece, you dont write one that lasts an hour. So you have to have some
control of the amount of time that youre dealing with.
BD: Well, how much leeway is there? Eighteen minutes would be okay?
LB: Yes, sure; three or four minutes, I think, on either side at the most. But your initial
conception of the piece is the shape of the piece. You cant start out just writing and then
just hope that you discover everything as you go along. I suppose its possible, but I think
its not a good plan. You need to know whether youre going to end with guns flashing, or
whether you fade off into the sunset. You need to sense where the climaxes are especially
the final climax and whether youve built up toward it long enough or whether its a
surprise. If its a surprise, then can you recover from the surprise in order to reassure
everybody that indeed the piece is fulfilled? In general, our first versions of pieces tend to be
too short, the endings tend to be too short. They tend to get there a little sooner than we
thought they would. So usually revisions that happened, with me at least, tend to be
extensions of the ending in one way or another.
BD: Are you ever surprised where the piece has taken you?
LB: Composing is just full of surprises at least for me it is. Thats one of the funs about
it. You never quite know whats going to happen! You will find spots where suddenly you
discover a beautiful sound which just sort of dropped in on you that you then, of course,
appreciate. Youre also trying to tie in this sound with earlier sound, so that theres a
syntactical relationship, a continuity of language, in your piece. But then there are surprises,
things that you didnt quite expect. The last orchestra piece I wrote, which is called From A
Source Evolving, does indeed that. It evolves from the initial sounds, but its a fourteen
minute piece all in one movement. I had not done a fourteen minute piece in one movement
for orchestra maybe forever. Well actually, the Variations are longer than that, but the
Variations somehow have segments in them. And this is quite unusual because I usually
write movements. I like movements. I think movements allow you to absorb the music that
you just heard and to pack it away before the next installment comes along. Then you feel
that people maybe have remembered a little better, instead of twenty minutes without break
of endless music, which is very hard to absorb.
Whether to enliven a commute, relax in the evening or drown out the buzz of a
neighbors recreational drone, Americans listen to music nearly four hours a day.
In international surveys, people consistently rank music as one of lifes supreme
sources of pleasure and emotional power. We marry to music, graduate to music,
and mourn to music. Every culture ever studied has been found to make music,
and among the oldest artistic objects known are slender flutes carved from
mammoth bone some 43,000 years ago 24,000 years before the cave paintings
of Lascaux.
Given the antiquity, universality and deep popularity of music, many researchers
had long assumed that the human brain must be equipped with some sort of
music room, a distinctive piece of cortical architecture dedicated to detecting and
interpreting the dulcet signals of song. Yet for years, scientists failed to find any
clear evidence of a music-specific domain through conventional brain-scanning
technology, and the quest to understand the neural basis of a quintessential
human passion foundered.
Importantly, the M.I.T. team demonstrated that the speech and music circuits are
in different parts of the brains sprawling auditory cortex, where all sound signals
are interpreted, and that each is largely deaf to the others sonic cues, although
there is some overlap when it comes to responding to songs with lyrics.
The new paper takes a very innovative approach and is of great importance,
said Josef Rauschecker, director of the Laboratory of Integrative Neuroscience
and Cognition at Georgetown University. The idea that the brain gives
specialized treatment to music recognition, that it regards music as fundamental
a category as speech, is very exciting to me.
In fact, Dr. Rauschecker said, music sensitivity may be more fundamental to the
human brain than is speech perception. There are theories that music is older
than speech or language, he said. Some even argue that speech evolved from
music.
And though the survival value that music held for our ancestors may not be as
immediately obvious as the power to recognize words, Dr. Rauschecker added,
music works as a group cohesive. Music-making with other people in your tribe
is a very ancient, human thing to do.
Elizabeth Hellmuth Margulis, the director of the Music Cognition Lab at the
University of Arkansas, said that when previous neuroscientists failed to find any
anatomically distinct music center in the brain, they came up with any number of
rationales to explain the results.
The story was, oh, whats special about music perception is how it recruits areas
from all over the brain, how it draws on the motor system, speech circuitry, social
understanding, and brings it all together, she said. Some researchers dismissed
music as auditory cheesecake, a pastime that co-opted other essential
communicative urges. This paper says, no, when you peer below the cruder level
seen with some methodologies, you find very specific circuitry that responds to
music over speech.
Dr. Kanwishers lab is widely recognized for its pioneering work on human vision,
and the discovery that key portions of the visual cortex are primed to instantly
recognize a few highly meaningful objects in the environment, like faces and
human body parts. The researchers wondered if the auditory system might be
similarly organized to make sense of the soundscape through a categorical screen.
If so, what would the salient categories be? What are the aural equivalents of a
human face or a human leg sounds or sound elements so essential the brain
assigns a bit of gray matter to the task of detecting them?
To address the question, Dr. McDermott, a former club and radio disc jockey, and
Dr. Norman-Haignere, an accomplished classical guitarist, began gathering a
library of everyday sounds music, speech, laughter, weeping, whispering, tires
squealing, flags flapping, dishes clattering, flames crackling, wind chimes tinkling.
Wherever they went, they asked for suggestions. Had they missed anything?
They put the lengthy list up for a vote on the Amazon Mechanical Turk
crowdsourcing service to determine which of their candidate sounds were most
easily recognized and frequently heard. That mass survey yielded a set of 165
distinctive and readily identifiable sound clips of two seconds each (listen to a
selection of them here). The researchers then scanned the brains of 10 volunteers
(none of them musicians) as they listened to multiple rounds of the 165 sound
clips.
The strength of our method is that its hypothesis-neutral, Dr. McDermott said.
We just present a bunch of sounds and let the data do the talking.
The computations generated six basic response patterns, six ways the brain
categorized incoming noise. But what did the categories correspond to? Matching
sound clips to activation patterns, the researchers determined that four of the
patterns were linked to general physical properties of sound, like pitch and
frequency. The fifth traced the brains perception of speech, and for the sixth the
data turned operatic, disclosing a neuronal hot spot in the major crevice, or
sulcus, of the auditory cortex that attended to every music clip the researchers
had played.
The sound of a solo drummer, whistling, pop songs, rap, almost everything that
has a musical quality to it, melodic or rhythmic, would activate it, Dr. Norman-
Haignere said. Thats one reason the result surprised us. The signals of speech
are so much more homogeneous.
The researchers have yet to determine exactly which acoustic features of music
stimulate its dedicated pathway: The relative constancy of a musical notes pitch
or its harmonic overlays? Even saying what music is can be tricky.
Justice Potter Stewart of the Supreme Court likewise said of pornography that he
knew it when he saw it. Maybe music is a kind of cheesecake after all.
Glossary of Musical Terms
Accidentals: The flats (@), sharps (#), or naturals (&) used to change pitch.
Alto: The lowest female voice or an instrument that plays in that range; or a type of C clef.
Articulation: The way two consecutive tones are connected (legato) or detached (staccato).
Bass: The lowest male voice; or the F clef that is used to notate the tones below middle C.
Beat: The regular pulse underlying all metrical music; often confused with rhythm.
Binary: A musical form that is in two parts often separated by a full cadence.
Chord: Any three or more notes used as a harmonic unit; may contain 3 to 12 notes.
Chromatic: Music that frequently uses most or all twelve semitones within an octave.
Clef: A sign used to indicate the placement of notes on the staff. The ones in common
practice are the G clef (treble), the F clef (bass), and the C clef (alto or tenor).
Conjunct: Music that moves mainly by step and is usually easier to perform than
disjunct music. Conjunct music often feels smooth and controlled.
Counterpoint: The art or craft of writing polyphony; or a line that accompanies the
melody. It is short for point-counter-point (note against note).
Density: The quantity of different notes or parts played simultaneously. It may range
from a solo to an immense orchestra and/or chorus.
Disjunct: Music that moves mainly by skip. The bigger the skips the more difficult it is to
perform or to follow as a listener. It may occasionally feel wild and crazy.
Dominant: The fifth note of a major or minor scale, or the chord built on that note.
Duet: Music for two individual performers who are, hopefully, playing in tune with each
other.
Duple: Refers to meter that has two beats per measure. Example: 2/4 time.
Duration: The length of a piece of music. It may range from seconds to hours.
Dynamics: The range of loudness as indicated by terms such as piano and forte.
Ensemble: A group of musicians performing the same piece at the same time.
Folk music: Music performed by ordinary people who are often vary talented but may be
musically illiterate or lack conservatory training. In America much of it is played on
stringed instruments such as the fiddle, guitar, or banjo by people with bad teeth.
Fool: Someone who struggles to begin learning music past the age of 21.
Harmony: The practice of combining different notes simultaneously; the use of chords.
Heterophonic: a musical texture in which everyone plays the same melody with slight
variations or differing embellishments.
Key signature: The flats or sharps at the beginning of a piece that indicate the key.
Key: Music that employs the notes of a major or minor scale is said to be in a key.
Keyboards: Instruments that have an array of black and white keys such as the piano,
organ, harpsichord, or celesta. The piano has 88; usually more than you need.
Major: Scales that use the following sequence of whole and half steps: W W H W W W H.
Perceived as happier than minor. Should be practiced every day.
Measure: The distance between the strongest regularly accented beats. In music notation
it is separated by two bar-lines.
Medium: The type of instrument or voice that is producing the music, either acoustic or
electronic. The medium is often a significant part of the message.
Meter: The grouping of beats into regular patterns of accented and unaccented. It may be
duple, triple, compound, or mixed. Clapping the beats helps you find the meter.
Metronome: An instrument used to measure beats per second. Does not do rubato!
Minor: Scales that employ a lowered third degree. Perceived as sadder than major.
Music theory: An attempt to explain why music sounds the way it does. A masterpiece is
greater than the sum of the theories that try to explain it.
Natural: A note that is neither flat (@) nor sharp (#). Example: E&
Opus: Latin for work. A publishers numbering system. The plural is opera.
Pentatonic: A scale having five notes, two less than the seven of major and minor.
Performer: Often a highly skilled musician who thinks they know better than the
composer how a particular piece should be played. They are usually overpaid (popular) or
underpaid (classical and jazz), and often have egos that outstrip their talent.
Phrase: The musical equivalent of a sentence. It ends with a cadence and a breath.
Pitch: The sound of a note as measured in vibrations per second. A& is 440Hz (cps).
Polyphonic: Music that contains two or more lines. It is often hard to write properly.
Popular music: Music designed to reach the widest possible audience. It is often
associated with huge sums of money, illicit drugs, and hysterical teenagers.
Range: The distance between the lowest and highest notes that are sung or played.
Register: The range in which a collection of pitches are found. It may be high, middle, or
low; also the place where paltry profits are stored in jazz clubs and the like.
Rhythm: The relative duration of notes and the silence between them.
Scale: A succession of step-wise tones that span an octave. It often goes up and down.
Staff or Stave: The five lines that are used in music notation. It contains four spaces.
Subdominant: The fourth step of the major or minor scale, or the chord built on that note.
Tenor: The highest male voice, or a type of C clef. In opera he is usually the hero.
Texture: The fabric of the music; the relationship of the parts. The way musical lines are
woven together. It may be monophonic, homophonic, polyphonic, or heterophonic.
Tone: A sound of measurable pitch as opposed to a noise; or the quality of the sound.
Tonic: The first step of a scale; also a refreshing drink or hair product.
Treble: The G clef that is used to notate the tones above middle C.
Trio: Music that contains three individual parts, or three people who perform together.
Triple: Music that has three beats per measure. Example: time.
Unpopular music: Music designed for a small discriminating audience. This includes
most classical music and contemporary jazz. Tickets are either free or very expensive.
Volume: The loudness of the music as measured in decibels. 125dB really hurts!
Whole step: An interval that contains two semitones. Example: A B (bypasses B@).
CAPRICORN 30 Quantz, Loeffler
31 Glass, Schubert
30 Kabalevsky 9 Berg
31 Revueltas 10 Kolb
5 Medtner 16 Wilder
8 Lees PISCES
9 Keiser, Paine
19 Blacher 28 Carpenter
29 Rossini
4 Davidovsky
22 Gade 7 Ravel
19 Reger 2 A. Scarlatti
6 Perle
8 Gottschalk, Monteverdi ?,
5 Roussel, Spohr
22 Wagner
8 Tartini
27 Halevy, Keats
10 d'Albert, Mompou
28 Ligeti
11 Ginastera
29 Albeniz, Korngold, Xenakis
17 Carissimi ?, Nabokov, Naumann
30 Oliveros
18 Suppe, Rozsa
Jun l Paer, Glinka
20 Miaskovsky
2 Elgar
16 Pierne, Marschner
18 Salieri
21 Haba 19 Enesco
22 MehuI 20 Peri
24 Partch, Riley
28 Rodgers VIRGO
29 Herrmann
2 Gluck 23 Krenek,Pachelbel ?
4 Foster 27 Giordano
6 Davies
10 Jommelli, Mercadente ?
23 Berwald 11 Part
10 Couperin
LIBRA 12 Borodin
13 Chadwick
6 Szymanowski
22 Liszt 29 Donizetti
Dec 2 Mayr
5 Jablonsky
31 Vitri 17 Cimarosa
5 Sachs, Zador