Two pieces from the 1730s

"La bouillonnante" is a gigue, a lively harpsichord piece by Jean-François Dandrieu, from his Pièces de clavecin, Book 1, Suite no. 3 (1734). Here are the beginning and the end, with the overlappings in the latter marked as they lead toward the final cadence. The example is from Steve Wiberg's edition. (If I were obliged to choose a focal tone, I would take the B4 in bar 3, but that would take quite a bit of time and detail to argue.)

The other example is the sarabande from Telemann, Ouverture à 5 in F major, TWV 44:10. I am using the modern notation by Gabriel Bachmanov, though I've condensed it and--I do apologize--deleted the horn parts.

If you want to think of focal tones and a background, this is obviously not a rising line, but ^8 with some neighboring figures.

An upper-voice wedge in a contredanse gigue (1781)

One of the clearest examples of a wedge figure in a three-voice texture can be seen below. The handwritten title is "Les Caprices de Galatée," which may or may not refer to a Parisian dance-pantomime of that title. This is the 17th page in volume 3 of the collection The celebrated Dances performed by Messrs. Vestris &c. at the King's Theatre in the Hay Market, 1781, composed by G. B. Noferi. Link. Giovanni Battista Noferi was an Italian violinist (he also played guitar) who apparently came to England early and stayed, working mostly in London. He died in 1782, the year after this collection was published. The Vestris were a large French family of professional dancers.

Very plainly a contredanse gigue, this piece is cast in the very common design of three strains (ABC) and five sections en rondeau (ABACA). All three strains are simple period themes. Indeed, the design is so familiar that amateur dancers would have no trouble dancing to it, either in the four-couple quadrille formation or as a long dance.

The principal strain has a stationary voice on E5, which the surrounding voices approach in a wedge, the "alto" voice reaching the tonic note, the upper voice making it part-way to G#5 (^3) but losing even that in the consequent. As readers of this blog will know, this strong implication of a pitch not actually sounded in the cadence is a common device, especially in violin music, and one can readily imagine it as an inducement to particular figures in ornamented repetitions (see below the score for one obvious such figure here).  For more on complex upper voices, see this essay of mine: link.

A likely (actually, almost inevitable) cadence figure improvised in performance:

From 204 Country Dances (~1775), part 2 continued

The first post in this series dealt with simple ascending lines in a strain; today's is the second post about numbers with more complex lines.

By a pleasant coincidence, the first number up today is "Valantines Day in the Morning." This jig is set in a small binary form with "balanced cadences" (that is, the same figure for both), uses entirely different shapes to lead to those cadences. In the first strain, a profusion of tonic triad notes makes definition difficult, but the accented F#4s (^3) suggest a line upward at the end, F#4-G4-A4-B4-C#5-D5, with a balancing secondary line from above, G5-F#5-E5-D5-C#5. In the second strain the directions are reversed, as the new attention on A5 suggests a line A5-G5-F#5-E5-(D5-C#5)-D5, with an internal A4-B4-C#5-D5.

The 9/8 meter, by the way, is considered a variant of the standard 6/8 jig -- what it might have been called in London in the eighteenth century I don't know; now it is called a "slip jig" or a "hop jig," both of which refer to a particular style of dancing.

"Ralph's Ramble to London" is still another piece in a small ternary form, and with a complete reprise. A full triad frame at the beginning -- see at (a). The accent patterns and the lower line that follows in the cadence (circled) suggest that the extremities of the frame, A4 & A5, have priority -- in the first strain at least. In the "contrasting middle," attention turns to F#5 -- see stemmed notes starting at (b) --  but that dissolves into the initial frame again with the reprise. At the end, I have staked out a possible path -- see (c1) -- that implies a short line down from A5 to F#5, but finally I think it really is the frame itself that retains priority to the end -- at (c2), subordinating everything else, including the internal rising line in the cadence.

"Warkworth Castle"is a jig with the dotted rhythms that had become a bit old-fashioned by the 1760s, when the French-style gigue with flowing eighths predominated in the contredanse. The impression is heightened by the period forms in both strains (the period had become almost a universal requirement in the contredanse by this time).

Chambonnieres, Pieces de Clavecin (1670), lines to ^9

Continuing by topic through examples of rising figures in the two books of Chambonnieres's Pieces de Clavecin, we look now at lines that "overshoot" ^8 in the first strain to end on ^9 as fifth of the dominant harmony. (The two previous posts concerned PACs that end a strain.)

A gigue from book 1, suite 3. One might perhaps expand the figure back to E4 to hear a unidirectional figure through the octave.

The sarabande from book 2, suite 3 is very similar in its cadence to the first strain but the line is longer and direct (by step throughout from F#4 to E5).

Chambonnieres, Pieces de Clavecin (1670), long lines (3)

The last examples for long lines (ascending figures in the cadence that span more than a fourth) come from book 1, suite 3, a sarabande and a gigue.

The opening of the sarabande slowly moves a line up from ^1 to ^3, giving more emphasis to the earlier notes rather than the ^3 that ends the line. Similarly to Book 2, suite 4, second courante, the long ending line here meanders a bit from an uncertain starting point (G4 in bar 18? F4 in bar 19? Perhaps even the eighth note D4 in bar 18, to make the line an octave?). The play of ^7 and ^#7 is also found in D minor/Dorian mode courantes by Elizabeth Jacquet de la Guerre.

By contrast, the sixth line ending the gigue is much simpler and more direct.

Chambonnieres, Pieces de Clavecin (1670), long lines (2)

Two pieces from book 2, suite 6: a gigue and the third of three courantes.

The gigue gives more attention to melody in the left hand than is typical of many dance-movements, including the courantes. This textural play is common in keyboard gigues throughout the seventeenth century. At (a) a clear focal note ^5 and accented notes in line down to ^3, after which at (b) the bass carries the melodic interest, as it does again at (c) and (d). The bass continues through the end of the section while the right hand at (e) brings an uncluttered octave line to the cadence. At (f) is the cadenza perfetta that we might expect where both right and left hands carry melody.

The courante is simpler: ^5 at the outset, repeated (circled notes), clean descent to ^2 by bar 4 (not marked), then a line of the sixth up to the cadence. I haven't remarked on it, but the root position D: I tucked in between the two dominants in bar 7 has occurred several times already, and we will see it again. This one is rhythmically more prominent than most, the result of the courante's characteristic hemiola (switch to 3/2 time) for the penultimate bar.

Chambonnieres, Pieces de Clavecin (1670), simple lines (1)

The fifth suite of the first book has two sarabandes; this is the opening of the second one. An emphasis on arpeggio rather than line in the first three bars turns into a pair of linear progressions that would not be out of place a century later: a linear descent from ^5 to ^2, at which point another line ascends through a PAC to V. The one bit not so likely in 1770 is the cadenza perfetta shape at the end: interval sequence 6-8: E3/C#5 to D3/D5.

A courante in suite 1 closes its first strain with a simple rising line over III (circled), but this is clearly subordinate to a stretched-out descending line from E5 (a: ^5 at the beginning, then C: ^3 in bar 5 to ^2 to begin bar 6 and ^1 in bar 7).

This canaris (alt: canarie, a close relative of the gigue) closes the fifth suite. The melodic shapes are similar to the courante above, in that a simple rising line to the cadence is an internal voice, and both ^3 and ^2 are stretched out across the previous measures. The close is now in the tonic key.

Book 1, suite 2: A curious sarabande whose notation is atypical—a mixture of 3/4 and 6/4 (the consistent 3/4 meter of the first example above is much more common until late century)—but whose design is less odd than it looks at first: a small binary form with written out, slightly varied repeats. Section B in its first statement ends with the PAC in bars 21-22. Boxes identify a parallel place in the first statement and the varied repeat. Angled lines show the rising line repeated several times over the course of the section. In every case it is probably another inner line like the ones above, but the presumed focal tone, E5, although certainly clear enough in its registral position, is not at all well-supported harmonically. At x, it must contend with a marked dissonance in the bass; at y, the triad is not in root position. However, if one must have a focal note, I don't see a better alternative.

Minor key series, part 3 continued

Gaspard Le Roux (1660-1707) was a professional keyboardist working in Paris. His Pieces de Clavessin, published in 1705, is a remarkable volume -- not only is the music in each of the seven suites skilled and aesthetically satisfying but each piece (excepting the preludes) is given in an alternate trio version for treble melodic instrument and continuo (where the treble of the keyboard part is realized). By way of an appendix, he adds a gigue in G major for two harpsichords and a contre partie (second part) that renders four pieces from the earlier suites into duos.

The gigue and the duo version of the courante in the seventh suite in G minor are of interest here. We'll start with the latter; here it is in the sequence of the suite. The solo version is at the top, the trio version at the bottom of the page. Note that a firmly descending melodic line in the cadence in the solo version (at "x") is counterpointed by a more complex and partly ascending line in the trio version (at "y").

Here is the page with the contre partie, which adopts the counterpointing line for its own closing cadence.

And here are two analyses of the ending (the notation is from an edition by Alfred Fuller). The original line (above) and its counterpoint (below) create a striking wedge figure (we will see this again in the gigue, below).

Asterisks show the complexity of treatments of scale degree ^6 (a reminder that the key signature is G minor/once-transposed Dorian). From this, the most plausible Urlinie for the contre partie rises from ^5 using the raised ^6 (E5), but this by no means erases the problem of Eb/E natural. A detailed analysis of the several structural levels would be quite an exercise. 

The Gigue for two harpsichords is much simpler by comparison. Here is the opening. Note the wedge shape approaching the cadence in the second phrase.

Le Roux uses the same figure in the interior cadence to the opposite mode and also in the ending, shown here again as an analysis using the notation of Fuller's edition. Although the rising line is shown as the upper voice, performance options—which are so rich in Le Roux's volume—might place the descending line above if the second harpsichordist takes advantage of the direction "en haut si lon veut" (an octave higher ad lib) [see Pierre's Gouin's edition on IMSLP: link]

For a detailed table of contents to Le Roux's Pieces de Clavessin, go to the bottom of the IMSLP page: link.