In the introduction to this series, I wrote that—in addition to continuing documentation of rising cadential figures—I wanted "to put more emphasis on the expressive and dramatic functions of ascending cadence gestures in texted works. My method is quite simple: for each song or number I will ask the question, Why does an ascending melodic figure dominate the cadence(s) and not the clichéd falling version inherited from 18th century practice?"
As will be obvious if you have read earlier posts, I didn't follow through on that plan. After n2—the trio for Rosalinde, Eisenstein, and Blind—I largely gave up. I did manage these observations there: [link to the post]
In this case, (1) the focus on the upper edge of the register in the main phrase (bars 1-5 above); (2) the repetitions of the pick-up chromatic ascending figure (bars 9-12), which invite continuation in the same direction (bars 12-13); (3) the more and more peremptory "hinaus" (get out!) (bars 12-13); (4) the exaggerated melodramatic humor in the subverted tonic at the end, as Rosalinde hits and holds her high note.
The Vivace [ending] is a typical operatic ensemble close, whose simple harmonic progressions and repetitious figures are similar to "one more time" passages in Classical-period instrumental codas. After waltzes and polkas, these ensemble endings are the most frequent source of rising cadence gestures in 19th century music.Perhaps Die Fledermaus wasn't the best subject for an inquiry like this, if the goal is to make fine distinctions (why rising in this aria, falling in that?). Almost all of its songs and ensemble pieces are dance-based, with particular emphasis on the waltz and polka. By 1850 at the latest, the endings of songs, but especially ensemble pieces and finales, generally favored rousing high-register gestures. Thus, the answer to my question is simple: genre expectations assumed the possibility of significant ascending motives and cadences.
I would like to be able to claim the following, as well, but I will do no more than hint for now. A study now underway of songs by Cécile Chaminade and Hugo Wolf will, I hope, offer some insights.
Such genre expectations also made it easier to experiment with ascending figures and cadences in relation to mood or affect: instead of the typical falling line for slow-tempo melancholy, a rising conclusion could signal an existentially charged sighing regret, nostalgia, or utopian feeling. In a faster tempo, a falling cadential line could more easily signal assertion, firmness, or resolve when understood as balanced against the option of the lighter, brighter quality of an ascending line.
