The number of blogs I maintain has recently grown to four. Hearing Schubert D779n13 was the first of them: it was (and still is) meant to create rich contexts for that curious A-major waltz that is so out of place in the Valses sentimentales, D. 779 (publ. 1825). As material accumulated on ascending cadence figures (which D. 779n13 offers in the most direct and both structurally and expressively consequential way) and on formal designs in early waltzes and related dances (there also D. 779n13 is an anomaly), two additional blogs emerged as spin-offs, the goal in both being primarily to document occurrences and patterns, primarily in 19th-century music but also in earlier music where relevant. These blogs are the present one and Dance and Dance Music, 1650-1850.
Continuing the derivations, On the Dominant Ninth is a spin-off mainly from this blog, given (1) that it was treatments of scale degree ^6 in the major key that enabled the ascending cadence lines that one finds already in Schubert and then more and more often in others as the 19th century moved on; and (2) that in the majority of cases the chord of the dominant ninth was involved. In the new blog, however, the work is not restricted to cadences or to rising figures. Instead, it "is intended to document [the variety of treatments of scale degree ^6 as the ninth of a dominant ninth chord], especially in the essential 19th century European repertoires of the musical stage and music for dance" (quote from the first post to the blog, 21 June 2018).
The new blog has already inspired two publications on the Texas ScholarWorks platform: most recently Dominant Ninth Harmonies in American Songs around 1900; before that Dominant Ninth Harmonies in the 19th Century. A new series on the blog—documenting presentations of the dominant ninth in theory textbooks and treatises in the 19th century—began with a post today on Catel's Traité d'harmonie.
Showing posts with label Schubert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Schubert. Show all posts
Saturday, August 3, 2019
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
Post no. 300
It is four years to the day that I started this blog (introductory post), and this post is the 300th in the series. The blog has provided material for over twenty essays published on the Texas ScholarWorks platform (link to my author page).
The focus has been quite narrow throughout: ascending cadence gestures in traditional European tonal music. Though my work on these figures has its roots in Schenkerian analysis—an article I published thirty-one years ago ("The Ascending Urlinie," in Journal of Music Theory)—I use those particular constructions only some of the time, because of problems with the figure of the focal tone (Kopfton), which I see as defined too narrowly to be generally useful. I opt more often (1) for the model of proto-backgrounds (link; see also Neumeyer 2009), (2) for style historical methods in connection with the dominant ninth chord and what I call the “waltz ninth,” (3) for similar methods and speculative modes for improvisatory practices, especially in the later 18th and early 19th centuries, and (4) for historical narratives of music for social dance, of music for the stage through the nineteenth century, and of composition in general in the later decades of that century, both narratives continuing to be relevant in the first half of the 20th century, as well.
The great majority of the traditional tonal music preserved in scores and manuscript makes use of form-defining cadences in which the principal melody line descends the scale to end on the tonic note. A significant minority, however, follow an upward path to end on scale degree eight (^8), a “circling” path around ^8, or a “mirror” path down from ^8 to ^5 and returning. An early surprise in my work was to find a considerably larger than average percentage of rising lines in the country dances preserved in John Playford's Dancing Master (first edition 1651; link to essay), which fact suggested to me that the figures were relatively common in dance-performance practice, including improvisation. It must be remembered that music for social dance was predominantly music for the violin (secondarily, flute) and that the instrument’s fifths mapping made it as easy to rise from the middle of the scale to ^8 as it did to descend to ^1.
I later found considerable corroborating evidence in Scottish and Irish dances and dance-songs, these coming largely from the later 18th century (link; link; link), and in the Germanophone Laendler, one of the waltz ancestors and especially closely associated with the violin, later in the 18th century with an ensemble of two violins and bass.
In the example below, the four open strings are depicted at the left in (a) and (b). From the open A-string, one moves with the greatest ease down the D-major scale, as in (a), or up the D-major scale, as in (b). In counterpoint, supposing for example, one violin improvises a descant to the other, the work is almost as easy, one of the simplest versions shown in (c). Another version with a bit more melodic complexity is shown in (d). Register play, in other words, offered a simple device to "do something different," specifically to do something different for an ending/articulation that didn’t run afoul of the traditional cadenza, where ^2 goes down to ^1 while ^7 goes up to ^8, making intervals of the major sixth and the octave (or minor third and unison). Not coincidentally, the alternative higher-register cadence offered a sound that was "bright" or "brilliant."
In the example below, the four open strings are depicted at the left in (a) and (b). From the open A-string, one moves with the greatest ease down the D-major scale, as in (a), or up the D-major scale, as in (b). In counterpoint, supposing for example, one violin improvises a descant to the other, the work is almost as easy, one of the simplest versions shown in (c). Another version with a bit more melodic complexity is shown in (d). Register play, in other words, offered a simple device to "do something different," specifically to do something different for an ending/articulation that didn’t run afoul of the traditional cadenza, where ^2 goes down to ^1 while ^7 goes up to ^8, making intervals of the major sixth and the octave (or minor third and unison). Not coincidentally, the alternative higher-register cadence offered a sound that was "bright" or "brilliant."
Additional corroboration of early practices came from 17th-century Germany and Austria; these included repertoires across the entire spectrum of genres, excluding only sacred choral music: link to essay.
The history and practice of rising cadence gestures quickly became more complicated in the early 19th century. Broadly, though, cadences can be heard as prominent expressive gestures and a turn toward less common cadences fits nicely with our familiar nostrums about Romantic rebellion against eighteenth-century conventions—and it aligns well with music theorists' recent revelations about a kind of shadow tonality of hexatonic relations that arise from the exploitation of chromatic mediants, early on especially by Schubert, whose Laendler and Deutscher ("German dance," the other ancestor of the waltz) made significant use of rising figures. This is music, incidentally, we know passed back and forth between music for dance and music for performance, not only in Schubert’s case but in the pragmatic circumstances of music publishing and (especially) domestic use.
Strangely, perhaps, I have found so far that straightforward expressive motivations for rising gestures—exhilaration, release, etc.—seem to have been far less prevalent than generic, topical, or formal-design considerations. The few coincidences of text and cadence, predictably, were found in the 19th century, after the clichéd cadence figures derived from earlier Italian practice had been largely abandoned (or, at least, their authority undermined). Examples: Grieg, Morgenstimmung (the analogy of musical ascent and the rising sun; link); Schubert, "Die Nonne" (the religious-utopian; link); Strauss, jr., Die Fledermaus n2 (increasing energy, demand, insistence: "Hinaus!”; link); Wolf, "Trunken müssen wir alle sein!” (as in Strauss; link).
As I have already noted, the rising cadence gesture was part of the toolkit of the waltz, and from there it went directly to the polka by no later than 1840. When an aria or other song used a waltz topic, the gesture went along with it. The floodgates were opened in French comic opera by no later than 1834 (see my essay on Adolphe Adam's Le Châlet: link), and rising cadences remained a factor in the opera bouffe and operettas of Offenbach, Lecocq, and others before finding a niche in the American operetta (Herbert) and the musical (notably those by Richard Rodgers).
The formal figure of the rising gesture in the coda of an aria or instrumental movement became firmly established in the last quarter of the 18th century. In some pieces, though, the boundary line between the "structural cadence" and coda figures became blurry—a process already underway earlier in the ensemble finales of Galuppi, with their many repetitions of cadential phrases, a dramatic device adopted by many composers, notably Mozart and Rossini. The process accelerated in the 19th century, more vigorously and consequentially in music for the stage than in instrumental concert music.
As I have already noted, the rising cadence gesture was part of the toolkit of the waltz, and from there it went directly to the polka by no later than 1840. When an aria or other song used a waltz topic, the gesture went along with it. The floodgates were opened in French comic opera by no later than 1834 (see my essay on Adolphe Adam's Le Châlet: link), and rising cadences remained a factor in the opera bouffe and operettas of Offenbach, Lecocq, and others before finding a niche in the American operetta (Herbert) and the musical (notably those by Richard Rodgers).
The formal figure of the rising gesture in the coda of an aria or instrumental movement became firmly established in the last quarter of the 18th century. In some pieces, though, the boundary line between the "structural cadence" and coda figures became blurry—a process already underway earlier in the ensemble finales of Galuppi, with their many repetitions of cadential phrases, a dramatic device adopted by many composers, notably Mozart and Rossini. The process accelerated in the 19th century, more vigorously and consequentially in music for the stage than in instrumental concert music.
An important outlier in all this is Beethoven, for whom transcendence, as a philosophical-religious category, could mean striving to move not just to the top of the voice leading, but outside or beyond it. For my only comments on this to date, see my post on Op119n7: link. My plan is to do more with this eventually, engaging work by David Lewin, Robert Fink, and, more recently, Malcolm Miller.
Wednesday, August 1, 2018
Schubert, "Ruhe, schönstes Glück der Erde"
Schubert, "Ruhe, schönstes Glück der Erde," D657 (1819) is for four-part men's chorus. It is a part-song of images. At the beginning, the hushed opening apostrophe to Rest is followed by a short phrase that does indeed "rest" with a perfect authentic cadence (boxed).
Then, though it begins higher (A4 in the tenor at [b]), Rest is quietly enjoined to sink below, with a blessing, so that quiet can fill us (repeated notes at (c). An A major triad is reached as V of D minor, but then an evocative phrase entirely in A major expresses "as a grave rests in flowers."
Continuing and turning more chromatic, the music reaches Ab major (at [d]), and then a sudden return to the opening at (e) is filled out to a PAC and drooping melodic figures (first box in the second system). A codetta extension repeats the descents in chromatic form over a sustained tonic bass.
The harsh interruption at (f)—"Let the stormy heart be quieted" (pianissimo for "quieted"/"schweigen")—initiates the second half. At (g), a determined chromatic ascent for "as they grow, as they rise, grows and rises the Soul's pain" ends with stark octaves for the repetition of "Seele Pein" at (h).
Rest is then enjoined again to bring peace to the earth, so that the Soul can be healed and rise from the grave: at (j) and (k) dramatically, then following another quiet "codetta" with bass pedal at (m), dramatically again in repetition at (n). Note that is there is no PAC: the tenor rises by step from ^1 to ^3 (and all the lower voices also rise).
Rising figures that close a composition in such dramatic, expressive mode are very rare, but then the ending here is clearly at one with everything that precedes it.
Then, though it begins higher (A4 in the tenor at [b]), Rest is quietly enjoined to sink below, with a blessing, so that quiet can fill us (repeated notes at (c). An A major triad is reached as V of D minor, but then an evocative phrase entirely in A major expresses "as a grave rests in flowers."
Continuing and turning more chromatic, the music reaches Ab major (at [d]), and then a sudden return to the opening at (e) is filled out to a PAC and drooping melodic figures (first box in the second system). A codetta extension repeats the descents in chromatic form over a sustained tonic bass.
The harsh interruption at (f)—"Let the stormy heart be quieted" (pianissimo for "quieted"/"schweigen")—initiates the second half. At (g), a determined chromatic ascent for "as they grow, as they rise, grows and rises the Soul's pain" ends with stark octaves for the repetition of "Seele Pein" at (h).
Rest is then enjoined again to bring peace to the earth, so that the Soul can be healed and rise from the grave: at (j) and (k) dramatically, then following another quiet "codetta" with bass pedal at (m), dramatically again in repetition at (n). Note that is there is no PAC: the tenor rises by step from ^1 to ^3 (and all the lower voices also rise).
Rising figures that close a composition in such dramatic, expressive mode are very rare, but then the ending here is clearly at one with everything that precedes it.
Saturday, March 3, 2018
Glinka, Mazurka in F major (1833-34)
The second strain of this mazurka is a transposed variant of the first strain. Both are framed by a simple ascending Urlinie from ^5 to ^8. The internal elaboration in the first phrase of each strain is a neighbor note figure that brings considerable expressive emphasis to ^6, presaging its essential role in the cadence. The overall treatment of ^6, then, is very close to Schubert's in D779n13 (link).
Thursday, September 21, 2017
JMT series, part 8 (note 33)
In note 33 for the 1987 JMT article, I mention the incomplete line ^5-^7-^8. A "textbook" example of this "primitive Urlinie" in tandem with a proto-background ^3/^5 may be found in the ninth number of Schubert's Ecossaisen, D781. See the circled notes in bar 1 -- the pairing is obvious through the first strain; I have traced the voices in the score as they trade positions in the second strain.
The “verlorener Bruder” Trio, D610 (a trio without a menuet), neatly frames ^5 in its basic idea and transposed repetition (bars 1-4), then focuses on movement upward to ^8 in the continuation. In the shortened reprise (the final four bars), there is a bit of a "lost soul" sort of posthorn touch, and the voices are firmly set against one another at the last -- see the boxed notes.
In note 33, I mentioned Schubert, Ländler, D. 681, nos. 1 & 2 (perhaps as ^5-(^8)-^7-^8). Unfortunately, I don't have easy access to these at present. It is perhaps worth noting that these pieces would be nos. 5 & 6 in the complete 12 Ländler, D. 681 (from 1815), but the first four have been lost.
The “verlorener Bruder” Trio, D610 (a trio without a menuet), neatly frames ^5 in its basic idea and transposed repetition (bars 1-4), then focuses on movement upward to ^8 in the continuation. In the shortened reprise (the final four bars), there is a bit of a "lost soul" sort of posthorn touch, and the voices are firmly set against one another at the last -- see the boxed notes.
In note 33, I mentioned Schubert, Ländler, D. 681, nos. 1 & 2 (perhaps as ^5-(^8)-^7-^8). Unfortunately, I don't have easy access to these at present. It is perhaps worth noting that these pieces would be nos. 5 & 6 in the complete 12 Ländler, D. 681 (from 1815), but the first four have been lost.
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
JMT series, part 6b-1 (note 31, the waltz ninth)
In the 1987 JMT article, I introduced the term "waltz ninth," which refers to ^6 treated either as a passing tone between ^5 and ^7 over V7 or as an element of a V9 chord that, despite older rules, moves upward to ^7 rather than resolving down to ^5. Here are two additional examples from Schubert: Valses nobles, D969n1, and Valses sentimentales, D779n13 (first strain only; second strain ends the same way).
In note 31, I mention the scherzos for the first two Beethoven symphonies. Until recently I thought the scherzo in Symphony no. 2 was the simpler of the two cases, and therefore decided to talk about it first here. The problem -- which nevertheless provokes some interesting opportunities for interpretation -- arises from orchestration, register, and arrangements.
Symphony no. 2, Scherzo. Comment in the note: "a very clear case." Here it is (below) as I analyzed it in the 1980s. I didn't specify a focal tone (aka first note of the fundamental line), though obviously I was assuming ^5; the shape of the cadence, however, is unmistakable. Note that ^6 rises to ^7 over the dominant.
My source was the piano reduction made by Otto Singer and published by Peters in 1906. Below is another version published a few years earlier by Ernst Pauer (London: Augener). [These are dates given on IMSLP; whether they represent time of the original publication, I don't know.]
The full orchestral version, however, has the following at the critical moment:
Curiously enough, Franz Liszt follows the original in his pianistically enhanced reduction:
And, more tellingly, so does Beethoven himself in the trio arrangement published in 1805 (the orchestral original appeared in 1804).
Two other contemporary sources, however, treat the ending in the same way as Singer and Pauer. Hummel made some of the first published piano solo versions of symphonies by Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. Joel Sachs and Mark Kroll say of them that "[Hummel's] extraordinary ability to respond to the needs of the musical market place without sacrificing high musical standards is illustrated by his numerous arrangements. . . . For England [in the 1820s] he arranged symphonies by Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, seven piano concertos by Mozart and 24 opera overtures. . . . All proved to be successful and profitable for both publisher and composer" (Oxford Music Online). Hummel's trio version is accurately described on the title page as for piano solo with accompaniment of violin and violoncello. Here is the piano's ending of the scherzo aligned with the violin part.
I've also aligned the two parts in an unattributed manuscript arrangement for piano four-hands from 1820.
What do we glean from all this? That any one of three backgrounds is plausible. Version (a) reads from ^3, with the upper octave as expressive doubling. Version (b) goes further, regarding the upper octave as consequential enough to warrant coupling [the Urlinie descends simultaneously in both octaves]. Version (c) shows my original reading, with ^5 as the focal tone and the simple ascent we have already seen above in several arrangements of the score.
Since (a) & (b) are marginally different in notation, I show only the details of (a) below.
Version (c) is below. I admit that I still prefer this one, despite its weaker claim on a firmly established focal tone at the beginning. In the graph below, note the expression of a neighbor note figure A5-B5 -- at (a) and subsequent places marked.
In note 31, I mention the scherzos for the first two Beethoven symphonies. Until recently I thought the scherzo in Symphony no. 2 was the simpler of the two cases, and therefore decided to talk about it first here. The problem -- which nevertheless provokes some interesting opportunities for interpretation -- arises from orchestration, register, and arrangements.
Symphony no. 2, Scherzo. Comment in the note: "a very clear case." Here it is (below) as I analyzed it in the 1980s. I didn't specify a focal tone (aka first note of the fundamental line), though obviously I was assuming ^5; the shape of the cadence, however, is unmistakable. Note that ^6 rises to ^7 over the dominant.
My source was the piano reduction made by Otto Singer and published by Peters in 1906. Below is another version published a few years earlier by Ernst Pauer (London: Augener). [These are dates given on IMSLP; whether they represent time of the original publication, I don't know.]
The full orchestral version, however, has the following at the critical moment:
Curiously enough, Franz Liszt follows the original in his pianistically enhanced reduction:
And, more tellingly, so does Beethoven himself in the trio arrangement published in 1805 (the orchestral original appeared in 1804).
Two other contemporary sources, however, treat the ending in the same way as Singer and Pauer. Hummel made some of the first published piano solo versions of symphonies by Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. Joel Sachs and Mark Kroll say of them that "[Hummel's] extraordinary ability to respond to the needs of the musical market place without sacrificing high musical standards is illustrated by his numerous arrangements. . . . For England [in the 1820s] he arranged symphonies by Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, seven piano concertos by Mozart and 24 opera overtures. . . . All proved to be successful and profitable for both publisher and composer" (Oxford Music Online). Hummel's trio version is accurately described on the title page as for piano solo with accompaniment of violin and violoncello. Here is the piano's ending of the scherzo aligned with the violin part.
I've also aligned the two parts in an unattributed manuscript arrangement for piano four-hands from 1820.
What do we glean from all this? That any one of three backgrounds is plausible. Version (a) reads from ^3, with the upper octave as expressive doubling. Version (b) goes further, regarding the upper octave as consequential enough to warrant coupling [the Urlinie descends simultaneously in both octaves]. Version (c) shows my original reading, with ^5 as the focal tone and the simple ascent we have already seen above in several arrangements of the score.
Since (a) & (b) are marginally different in notation, I show only the details of (a) below.
Version (c) is below. I admit that I still prefer this one, despite its weaker claim on a firmly established focal tone at the beginning. In the graph below, note the expression of a neighbor note figure A5-B5 -- at (a) and subsequent places marked.
The weakness of ^5 at the beginning is that it's much easier to hear it as a one-too-far gesture. I've variously called it "one leap too far," "one note too far,"or just "one too far." Note how A5, as one-note-too-far, helps confirm ^3 (F#5), before the latter is undercut by another one-leap-too-far in the fortissimo D6. It's not hard to write off D6 as the emphatic expression of a cover tone, but it's now "two leaps," not one, which suggests a potentially different role for A5.
In the modulating consequent of this 16-bar period, the role of A5 as just described is confirmed: the figure of bar 2 continues upward in bar 4 and that register is maintained in the final phrase. The possibility of E6 as the interrupting ^2 for a focal tone ^3 is undercut by the fact that E6 is now where the undoubted cover tone was in the antecedent. The observation that things can get turned upside down in scherzos is not much of a defense.
The reprise is one of those -- common enough in Beethoven but found in others of his generation also -- that muddles the ending by introducing figures from the "development" (the B-section here). Unlike the scherzo in the first symphony, there is no possibility of hearing a structural cadence before the very end. Thus, the rising figure of the final bars attains considerable significance: not the falling resolutions in the seventh bars of antecedent and consequent above but the emphatically affirming fortissimo that follows.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
JMT series, part 5b (notes 29 & 30)
The second post on notes 29 & 30:
n30: ^5-^6-(^5)^7-^8: Winterreise, no. 2, “Die Wetterfahne.” No comment in the note. The piano opens a large space of a compound fifth in the introduction ("geschwind, unruhig"), but the voice constrains its opening phrase by sequence, so that a line rises from ^3 to ^5 (beamed).
The sudden turn to the parallel major in the verse cadence is sarcastic, as his former lover "ist eine reiche Braut" ["a rich bride'].
The final cadence of the song amps up the cry of despair with a strong sequence but odd chord progression -- first system below -- then drops back into the "reiche Braut" figure to end. In the 1987 article I enclosed the second ^5 in parentheses, and have repeated that below, but nowadays I am more inclined to accept the "primitive rising line" and so would probably read the ending as ^5 (^#6 ^5) ^#7 ^8.
n30: ^5-^6-(^5)^7-^8: Winterreise, no. 2, “Die Wetterfahne.” No comment in the note. The piano opens a large space of a compound fifth in the introduction ("geschwind, unruhig"), but the voice constrains its opening phrase by sequence, so that a line rises from ^3 to ^5 (beamed).
The sudden turn to the parallel major in the verse cadence is sarcastic, as his former lover "ist eine reiche Braut" ["a rich bride'].
The final cadence of the song amps up the cry of despair with a strong sequence but odd chord progression -- first system below -- then drops back into the "reiche Braut" figure to end. In the 1987 article I enclosed the second ^5 in parentheses, and have repeated that below, but nowadays I am more inclined to accept the "primitive rising line" and so would probably read the ending as ^5 (^#6 ^5) ^#7 ^8.
Monday, July 10, 2017
JMT series, part 5a (notes 29 & 30)
In previous posts for this series I looked at pieces mentioned in my 1987 JMT article, note 28. Here are notes 29 and 30, on Urlinie variants.
n29: ^5-^6-(^8)-^7-^8 model or one of its variants:
Haydn, String Quartet, op. 76, no. 2, II. I have written at length about this piece here: link to post.
Handel, Jephtha, aria “Waft her angels.” Comment in the note: "orchestra in the framing ritornello, not the voice." The voice does participate -- see (d) in the example below -- and rising figures are certainly strong throughout, but in the abstract Schenkerian terms, all these are affect, "text painting," and the like, not structural. Nowadays I'm not so sure "structural" is enough.
The closing cadence in A. The strong ascent at (a) is derived from the opening ritornello, (c), but the closing cadence is a descending formula, at (b).
After the voice finishes, the orchestra doesn't give up on the rising line, managing it twice in just four bars.
Note n30: ^5-^6-(^5)-^7-^8.
Schubert, Drei deutsche Tänze, D973n2. In 1987, I was trying to avoid the primitive Urlinie (^5-^7-^8), but now I think it would work just as well -- mechanically, at least. I prefer the reading that emphasizes ^6 because of the expressive attention given to that note and its supporting harmony.
In tomorrow's post: Winterreise, no. 2, “Die Wetterfahne.”
n29: ^5-^6-(^8)-^7-^8 model or one of its variants:
Haydn, String Quartet, op. 76, no. 2, II. I have written at length about this piece here: link to post.
Handel, Jephtha, aria “Waft her angels.” Comment in the note: "orchestra in the framing ritornello, not the voice." The voice does participate -- see (d) in the example below -- and rising figures are certainly strong throughout, but in the abstract Schenkerian terms, all these are affect, "text painting," and the like, not structural. Nowadays I'm not so sure "structural" is enough.
The closing cadence in A. The strong ascent at (a) is derived from the opening ritornello, (c), but the closing cadence is a descending formula, at (b).
After the voice finishes, the orchestra doesn't give up on the rising line, managing it twice in just four bars.
Note n30: ^5-^6-(^5)-^7-^8.
Schubert, Drei deutsche Tänze, D973n2. In 1987, I was trying to avoid the primitive Urlinie (^5-^7-^8), but now I think it would work just as well -- mechanically, at least. I prefer the reading that emphasizes ^6 because of the expressive attention given to that note and its supporting harmony.
In tomorrow's post: Winterreise, no. 2, “Die Wetterfahne.”
Friday, June 30, 2017
JMT series, part 4d (simple rising lines)
The final post for note 28. The first post is here: link.
Schumann, Album für die Jugend, op. 68, no. 20, “Ländliches Lied.” No comment in the note.
Schumann, Albumblätter, op. 124, no. 3, “Scherzino." Comment in the note: "the first ^5 is somewhat muddled by registral confusion, but a rising motive is strong." Now I think the opening is less muddled than I thought in 1987, though there is consistent covering play. The line, overall, is quite clear and coordinates with the harmony as well as any I have seen.
Schubert, Schwanengesang, no. 7, “Abschied." Comment in the note: "the conclusion is strong, but ^8 could be the initial tone, and the piano overreaches the voice with a descent ^3-^2-^1." I have nothing to add to this comment.
Finally: "Pieces that appear to use a rising line from ^5 but in fact do not include Chopin, Prelude in E Major, op. 28, no. 9 (three-part Ursatz with line from ^3 above ^2 implied in the cadence)." I have already written about this at length: link to the first post; link to the follow-up post. The "short version": Until recently I was comfortable with the comment above, despite the work needed to imagine ^2; Carl Schachter repeated the analysis without giving me credit for precedent; and recently Emily Ahrens Yates revisited the piece and produced a thoroughly convincing analysis that shows the piece does have an ascending Urlinie.
Schumann, Album für die Jugend, op. 68, no. 20, “Ländliches Lied.” No comment in the note.
Schumann, Albumblätter, op. 124, no. 3, “Scherzino." Comment in the note: "the first ^5 is somewhat muddled by registral confusion, but a rising motive is strong." Now I think the opening is less muddled than I thought in 1987, though there is consistent covering play. The line, overall, is quite clear and coordinates with the harmony as well as any I have seen.
Schubert, Schwanengesang, no. 7, “Abschied." Comment in the note: "the conclusion is strong, but ^8 could be the initial tone, and the piano overreaches the voice with a descent ^3-^2-^1." I have nothing to add to this comment.
Finally: "Pieces that appear to use a rising line from ^5 but in fact do not include Chopin, Prelude in E Major, op. 28, no. 9 (three-part Ursatz with line from ^3 above ^2 implied in the cadence)." I have already written about this at length: link to the first post; link to the follow-up post. The "short version": Until recently I was comfortable with the comment above, despite the work needed to imagine ^2; Carl Schachter repeated the analysis without giving me credit for precedent; and recently Emily Ahrens Yates revisited the piece and produced a thoroughly convincing analysis that shows the piece does have an ascending Urlinie.
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
Suzannah Clark on analysis
This is the last entry in the "internet search" series.
Suzannah Clark comments on an analysis by Thomas A. Denny of Schubert's song "Ganymed," D544. He is concerned to locate
The Ab major opening; the turn to Cb major:
The confirming cadence in the E major section:
The turn from E major to F major:
And the ending, with half of the piano's coda. Here, not making any claim about focal notes preceding it, I mark out a relatively simple descent from ^4 to ^1 in the closing cadence.
Clark's attitude seems to be critical of Denny's reading—and of its source (note the phrase "Schenker's final verdict")—but the real focus of her critique is Denny's shift from analysis to hermeneutics ("Instead, Denny slips seamlessly. . ."). Shortly after (109), she says that "This book aims to expose how an analyst's choice of music theory can shift hermeneutic windows. As suggested already, an object of interpretation can indeed 'be made to appear explicitly problematic' by one theory, but not another." Thus, it would appear that the shifting is the problem, but in a note (108n96) she also says that "I do not mean to imply that a musical structure should only ever be explained by means of a single theory. Rather, I wish to note that the impulse to shift theoretical positions is usually accompanied by a desire to draw some hermeneutic conclusion that is not accessible through a single method of analysis." The uncertainty I feel about what to make of this is apparently shared by at least one of the book's reviewers: "I dwell on this example because it illustrates a tendency I found frustrating in Clark’s otherwise admirably readable and engaging book. We gladly follow [Clark’s] lively discussions of published analyses. Yet when Clark locates [a hermeneutic window] she can seem reluctant to open it very far, preferring to make only hasty notations" (Muxfeldt, ¶6).
References:
Suzannah Clark. 2011. Analyzing Schubert. Cambridge University Press.
Thomas A. Denny. 1989. “Directional Tonality in Schubert’s Lieder.” In Franz Schubert—Der Fortschrittliche? Analysen, Perspektiven, Fakten, edited by Erich Wolfgang Partsch, 37–53. Tutzing: Hans Schneider.
Kristina Muxfeldt, Review of Suzannah Clark, Analyzing Schubert (Cambridge University Press, 2011). Music Theory Online 18/3.
Suzannah Clark comments on an analysis by Thomas A. Denny of Schubert's song "Ganymed," D544. He is concerned to locate
the degree to which symmetrical pairs of thirds may be detected in its array of five keys. He spots them between Ab and Cb on the one hand and E and C on the other, [but] this configuration problematically omits the final key from consideration. [He therefore] invokes Schenker. The complex of keys in "Ganymed" unfolds beneath, he says, an Urlinie. But this is no ordinary Urlinie. The thread that joins the keys in "Ganymed" turns out to be an extraordinary turn of Schenkerian events. Denny finds an ascending Urlinie, from Eb to E-nat to F. It is even chromatic. He makes no comment about its unusual behavior (Schenker's final verdict was that an Urlinie should always descend and should always be strictly diatonic). Instead, Denny slips seamlessly to another hermeneutic plane and suggests that the Urlinie that he identifies "mirrors Ganymed's ascent into the clouds." (Clark, 108)I would not rule this "Urlinie" out, of course, but I doubt I'd call it an Urlinie—maybe something more like "abstract top-level melodic shape," but that's not very snappy sounding, alas. And abstract it certainly is, as its connection to specific melodic elements has no stronger a claim than do other triad notes. The best one can say is the voice never goes above the notes indicated as background tones, and the piano is quite restrained, too, only going higher in the E major section and in its short coda. Here are excerpts from the score, taken from the first edition, with relevant pitches marked.
The Ab major opening; the turn to Cb major:
The confirming cadence in the E major section:
The turn from E major to F major:
And the ending, with half of the piano's coda. Here, not making any claim about focal notes preceding it, I mark out a relatively simple descent from ^4 to ^1 in the closing cadence.
Clark's attitude seems to be critical of Denny's reading—and of its source (note the phrase "Schenker's final verdict")—but the real focus of her critique is Denny's shift from analysis to hermeneutics ("Instead, Denny slips seamlessly. . ."). Shortly after (109), she says that "This book aims to expose how an analyst's choice of music theory can shift hermeneutic windows. As suggested already, an object of interpretation can indeed 'be made to appear explicitly problematic' by one theory, but not another." Thus, it would appear that the shifting is the problem, but in a note (108n96) she also says that "I do not mean to imply that a musical structure should only ever be explained by means of a single theory. Rather, I wish to note that the impulse to shift theoretical positions is usually accompanied by a desire to draw some hermeneutic conclusion that is not accessible through a single method of analysis." The uncertainty I feel about what to make of this is apparently shared by at least one of the book's reviewers: "I dwell on this example because it illustrates a tendency I found frustrating in Clark’s otherwise admirably readable and engaging book. We gladly follow [Clark’s] lively discussions of published analyses. Yet when Clark locates [a hermeneutic window] she can seem reluctant to open it very far, preferring to make only hasty notations" (Muxfeldt, ¶6).
References:
Suzannah Clark. 2011. Analyzing Schubert. Cambridge University Press.
Thomas A. Denny. 1989. “Directional Tonality in Schubert’s Lieder.” In Franz Schubert—Der Fortschrittliche? Analysen, Perspektiven, Fakten, edited by Erich Wolfgang Partsch, 37–53. Tutzing: Hans Schneider.
Kristina Muxfeldt, Review of Suzannah Clark, Analyzing Schubert (Cambridge University Press, 2011). Music Theory Online 18/3.
Monday, February 20, 2017
Postscript to the post on 5-6 figures
One of the examples in yesterday's post was from David Damschroder's article: the opening of Schubert's Minona, D.152 (1815). A curiosity in this melodrama's ending is worth a look here. When the protagonist finds her lover, killed by an arrow, she says/intones/sings the following:
Circled notes E5 and F5 are the focal pitches (note they are doubled in the piano in the second system).
She then quickly (plötzlich = suddenly or abruptly) pulls out the arrow and stabs herself ("stösst ihn . . . mit Hast in den Busen") -- boxed notes E5-F#5-Fnat5 -- and sinks down to die (Eb5-D5-C5 and a strongly implied B5). A closing A5 is in the piano coda. It is a bit absurd to be charting focal notes and lines across the ever-changing surface of a melodrama, but on this last page I think it is possible to hear a descent from E5 by step down to A4. a "five-line."
The piano follows the voice -- well, actually, precedes it to F#5 (circled note marked ^#6) -- and then to Fnat5, after which it holds F5, then drops to G#4 -- continued series of circled notes), also closing on A4 in the piano's coda. The simplest voice leading wouldn't follow this sequence in the uppermost notes of the right hand -- at sehr langsam Bb4 would go down to G#4 (the voice does this in the lower half of its register) and F5 would drop the octave to F4, but I think that is misleading here as the F5 is already doubled by F4 on the first beat of the bar (at "Schnee").
Circled notes E5 and F5 are the focal pitches (note they are doubled in the piano in the second system).
She then quickly (plötzlich = suddenly or abruptly) pulls out the arrow and stabs herself ("stösst ihn . . . mit Hast in den Busen") -- boxed notes E5-F#5-Fnat5 -- and sinks down to die (Eb5-D5-C5 and a strongly implied B5). A closing A5 is in the piano coda. It is a bit absurd to be charting focal notes and lines across the ever-changing surface of a melodrama, but on this last page I think it is possible to hear a descent from E5 by step down to A4. a "five-line."
The piano follows the voice -- well, actually, precedes it to F#5 (circled note marked ^#6) -- and then to Fnat5, after which it holds F5, then drops to G#4 -- continued series of circled notes), also closing on A4 in the piano's coda. The simplest voice leading wouldn't follow this sequence in the uppermost notes of the right hand -- at sehr langsam Bb4 would go down to G#4 (the voice does this in the lower half of its register) and F5 would drop the octave to F4, but I think that is misleading here as the F5 is already doubled by F4 on the first beat of the bar (at "Schnee").
Sunday, February 19, 2017
On 5-6 figures and sequences
In 2006, David Damschroder published an article on 5-6 sequences in the music of Schubert. These (though not necessarily in Schubert) would seem to be good candidates for participation in rising cadence gestures, since, in the clichéd progressions of the Italian pedagogical (partimenti) tradition, 5-6 patterns rise -- see (a) below --, whereas the complement, 6-5, falls. Here are links to some examples from partimenti rules and exercises: link; link; link.
Example (a) below is reproduced from the article, where it is example 3d. The author takes this as the prototype for a number of diatonic and—his main topic in the article—chromatic figures, including one in which the second chord is in root position rather than first inversion (see Example b, first item below; his 3e). This "thirds and fourths" pattern (or "thirds and fifths," if you drop the last bass note an octave) is ubiquitous in historical European musics of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and so of course one can locate two other foundational voiceleading figures -- see the second and third examples under (b) below. The majority of Damschroder's examples from Schubert actually use these latter between upper voice and bass, and at least two of those that do maintain 5-6 between upper voice and bass have 6/4 chords (!) in the second position of the figure.
One striking example of the stricter chromatic 5-6 sequence is Damschroder's Example 9, the opening of Schubert's "Minona," D.152 (see below). This early work (1815) is by no means a Lied; it is a melodrama in the manner of those by Benda and others from the 1790s. Its stylistic foundation is the accompanied recitative, and therefore we might well expect to find a somewhat strange progression at the beginning (and elsewhere, for that matter). The introduction is a music of foreboding and strangeness -- what we hear when the singer enters is an image of darkness, storm, and fear. (Eventually, the young woman is drawn out into the night to find her lover dead at the hands of her father; she decides to take the arrow that killed him and die alongside -- more on that below. If all this seems pretty dismal, in the manner of the early Romantics, recall that early death among all urban social classes had become a serious societal problem by the end of the eighteenth century, especially from syphilis and tuberculosis. The revolution of the Romantics was to draw this sort of tragedy into the present, not keep it more emotionally distant by using ancient stories and characters.)
I have added asterisks to show the striking augmented sixth chords that are responsible for continually shifting the direction of the harmony. At ** and the arrow, Schubert breaks the pattern in order to stay on the dominant of the initial key, A minor.
Returning to the diatonic 5-6 sequence, for my purposes here, example (c) below is the one of interest. I have rewritten and extended example (a) to create an ascending cadence beginning from ^5 over I. This is an extraordinarily easy progression to generate, yet, as I have written on numerous occasions previously, the pressure of musical fashion and practice rooted in Italian models seems to have prevented its common usage. In the eighteenth century (as in the seventeenth), ascending cadence gestures -- though rarely with this progression, it must be said -- are found most often in northern dance musics and the French court music derived originally from those musics. Only near the end of the century, probably under the influence of other dance musics--the waltzing dances of Germanophone countries--did the rising line cadence gesture find its way into symphonic music (in the menuets of the late symphonies of Haydn, notably) and eventually into opera (in the 1830s and again through the importation of the by-then universally fashionable waltz and related social dances).
What is missing, most often is the second chord, vi, which of course undermines the entire notion of a repeated 5-6 pattern. Süssmayr's trio to the tenth of his 12 Menuets is typical. (I wrote about pieces in this set here: link.)
In Hummel's Six German Dances with trios, op. 16, vi is present, but any vestige of a 5-6 figure is really impossible to pull from this. I am, indeed, doubtful even about the rising line I've charted. (On the other hand, the descending 8-line in the first strain is as clear as it could possibly be.)
Example (a) below is reproduced from the article, where it is example 3d. The author takes this as the prototype for a number of diatonic and—his main topic in the article—chromatic figures, including one in which the second chord is in root position rather than first inversion (see Example b, first item below; his 3e). This "thirds and fourths" pattern (or "thirds and fifths," if you drop the last bass note an octave) is ubiquitous in historical European musics of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and so of course one can locate two other foundational voiceleading figures -- see the second and third examples under (b) below. The majority of Damschroder's examples from Schubert actually use these latter between upper voice and bass, and at least two of those that do maintain 5-6 between upper voice and bass have 6/4 chords (!) in the second position of the figure.
I have added asterisks to show the striking augmented sixth chords that are responsible for continually shifting the direction of the harmony. At ** and the arrow, Schubert breaks the pattern in order to stay on the dominant of the initial key, A minor.
Returning to the diatonic 5-6 sequence, for my purposes here, example (c) below is the one of interest. I have rewritten and extended example (a) to create an ascending cadence beginning from ^5 over I. This is an extraordinarily easy progression to generate, yet, as I have written on numerous occasions previously, the pressure of musical fashion and practice rooted in Italian models seems to have prevented its common usage. In the eighteenth century (as in the seventeenth), ascending cadence gestures -- though rarely with this progression, it must be said -- are found most often in northern dance musics and the French court music derived originally from those musics. Only near the end of the century, probably under the influence of other dance musics--the waltzing dances of Germanophone countries--did the rising line cadence gesture find its way into symphonic music (in the menuets of the late symphonies of Haydn, notably) and eventually into opera (in the 1830s and again through the importation of the by-then universally fashionable waltz and related social dances).
What is missing, most often is the second chord, vi, which of course undermines the entire notion of a repeated 5-6 pattern. Süssmayr's trio to the tenth of his 12 Menuets is typical. (I wrote about pieces in this set here: link.)
In Hummel's Six German Dances with trios, op. 16, vi is present, but any vestige of a 5-6 figure is really impossible to pull from this. I am, indeed, doubtful even about the rising line I've charted. (On the other hand, the descending 8-line in the first strain is as clear as it could possibly be.)
Reference: David Damschroder, "Schubert, Chromaticism, and the Ascending 5--6 Sequence," Journal of Music Theory 50n2 (2006): 253-275.
Monday, January 16, 2017
Schubert, Piano Sonata in E Major, D 157, III (1815)
Schubert's Piano Sonata in E Major, D 157, is in three movements, with a menuet as finale. Thinking of this in Schenkerian terms, the emphatic ^1 in phrase 1, repeated, is preliminary to the focal tone ^3 in bar 9. That note, D#5, promptly drops to an interrupted ^2 (as C#5) and the typical fifth line -- at (a) -- runs down from it to the cadence (beamed notes). The actual gesture at the cadence, however, is a rising line -- at (b); it repeats C#5, then rises by step as F#: ^5-^6-^7-^8. The two fortissimo chords that follow -- at (c) -- confirm the significance of this rising fourth, to which the falling fifth is now clearly understood as subordinate.
In the reprise (beginning at bar 49), the emphatic opening is repeated but F# in the second phrase is diverted to Fx (F-double-sharp) -- at (b) -- the result being to bring out the (already obvious) interval frame B4-F#4, shown as unfolding at (a). The Fx goes as expected to G# in the 9th bar of the reprise but then promptly relaxes back to F# two bars later -- at (c). An octave leap to F#5 enables the rising line in the cadence, and again we hear the energetic confirmation of the two fortissimo chords to end.

Overall, then, the shapes move from the ^8-^5 frame of the opening to the (expanded) upper fifth ^1-^5 and finally the upper fourth ^5-^8, as shown below.
In the reprise (beginning at bar 49), the emphatic opening is repeated but F# in the second phrase is diverted to Fx (F-double-sharp) -- at (b) -- the result being to bring out the (already obvious) interval frame B4-F#4, shown as unfolding at (a). The Fx goes as expected to G# in the 9th bar of the reprise but then promptly relaxes back to F# two bars later -- at (c). An octave leap to F#5 enables the rising line in the cadence, and again we hear the energetic confirmation of the two fortissimo chords to end.

Overall, then, the shapes move from the ^8-^5 frame of the opening to the (expanded) upper fifth ^1-^5 and finally the upper fourth ^5-^8, as shown below.
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
Essay on Waltzes by Joseph Lanner Published
I have published an essay titled Ascending Cadence Gestures in Waltzes by Joseph Lanner on the Texas Scholar Works platform: link. Here is the abstract:
Rising melodic figures have a long history in cadences in European music of all genres. This essay documents and analyzes examples from an especially influential repertoire of social dance music, the Viennese waltz in the first half of the 19th century. The two most important figures were both violinists, orchestra leaders, and composers: Josef Lanner (d. 1843) and Johann Strauss, sr. (d. 1849). Lanner is the focus of this essay, with waltz sets ranging from prior to 1827 through 1842.In addition to the analyses of waltzes from nine sets by Lanner, the reader may be interested in the second section of the introduction, "The Violin and the Cadence: On the Complexity of the Relations of Melodic Figures and Voice-leading" and in the postscript "on the period, double period, AB designs, and quadruple periods."
Friday, December 16, 2016
Administrative post: updated links to some files
Early next year, Dropbox is changing the public folder to a shared folder. Therefore, I have moved all files that were formerly on Dropbox to Google Drive. Here is an alphabetical list with the new links:
Chopin, Prelude in E Major, op. 28n9: link.
Guide to my blog Hearing Schubert D779n13: link.
Guide to the blog Hearing the Movies: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Ab major, menuet, my graph, page 1: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Ab major, menuet, my graph, page 2: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Ab major, menuet, score: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Eb major, II, my graph, page 1: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Eb major, II, my graph, page 2: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Eb major, II, score, page 1: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Eb major, II, score, page 2: link.
Minor key progressions (table): link.
Neumeyer, handout for 2010 Society of Music Theory presentation: link.
Neumeyer research vita: link.
Schubert dance table: link.
Chopin, Prelude in E Major, op. 28n9: link.
Guide to my blog Hearing Schubert D779n13: link.
Guide to the blog Hearing the Movies: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Ab major, menuet, my graph, page 1: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Ab major, menuet, my graph, page 2: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Ab major, menuet, score: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Eb major, II, my graph, page 1: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Eb major, II, my graph, page 2: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Eb major, II, score, page 1: link.
Haydn, Sonata in Eb major, II, score, page 2: link.
Minor key progressions (table): link.
Neumeyer, handout for 2010 Society of Music Theory presentation: link.
Neumeyer research vita: link.
Schubert dance table: link.
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Minor key series, part 2b (Schubert)
In yesterday's post, I looked at two pieces in which Schubert avoids the problem of a minor-key ascent by shifting to the major mode for the closing cadence. Today I will discuss the opposite case--a change from major to minor--and Schubert's poignantly expressive treatment of the natural-^6 in "Frühlingstraum," n11 in Winterreise.
In the introductory post, I remarked on the problem of the natural-^6 as an Urlinie element. Here is the figure I used:
The opening of "Frühlingstraum" finds the poet, in winter, dreaming of spring flowers and bird calls, these latter imitated in the mordents of the cadence (see the box -- these mordents were already heard in the piano introduction). The melodic frame clearly starts from ^3 (m.1) and a descent can be heard in the piano (B4-A4 in the right hand--not marked in the score), but the voice marks out an interior voice that ascends F#-G#-A.
In the B-section, the assumed, pleasant small birds promptly turn to roosters and crows, and the symbolic play involving minor versus major is in full swing. A closing passage brings a sudden moment of direct address: "You probably laugh at a dreamer who sees flowers in the winter." Much is made of natural-^6 and ^5 -- see the circled notes, ending with a rising line as in figures "x" or "z" above. This ascent is, however, clearly subordinate to the voice's determined descent, as A minor: ^3-^2-^1.
The full expressive effect of the ascent through natural-^6 is achieved with the repetition of the passage, also the ending of the song. See the box in the graphic below, where the excruciating dissonance sets "Liebchen."
In the introductory post, I remarked on the problem of the natural-^6 as an Urlinie element. Here is the figure I used:
The opening of "Frühlingstraum" finds the poet, in winter, dreaming of spring flowers and bird calls, these latter imitated in the mordents of the cadence (see the box -- these mordents were already heard in the piano introduction). The melodic frame clearly starts from ^3 (m.1) and a descent can be heard in the piano (B4-A4 in the right hand--not marked in the score), but the voice marks out an interior voice that ascends F#-G#-A.
In the B-section, the assumed, pleasant small birds promptly turn to roosters and crows, and the symbolic play involving minor versus major is in full swing. A closing passage brings a sudden moment of direct address: "You probably laugh at a dreamer who sees flowers in the winter." Much is made of natural-^6 and ^5 -- see the circled notes, ending with a rising line as in figures "x" or "z" above. This ascent is, however, clearly subordinate to the voice's determined descent, as A minor: ^3-^2-^1.
The full expressive effect of the ascent through natural-^6 is achieved with the repetition of the passage, also the ending of the song. See the box in the graphic below, where the excruciating dissonance sets "Liebchen."
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