Showing posts with label simple rising line. Show all posts
Showing posts with label simple rising line. Show all posts

Monday, February 10, 2020

Sousa, two marches

Contrary to what one might expect, linear rising cadential figures are relatively rare in late 19th century marches and the closely related repertoires of the one-step and rag. Here are two examples from John Phillip Sousa.

In The Manhattan Beach March (1893), we are obliged to settle for an internal cadence (dominant ending for the first strain).


In Our Flirtation March (1880), an equally stark ascending line from ^5 to ^8 closes the second strain. I am quoting here from an early 20th century theater orchestra set of parts. In such circumstances, the violinist was considered the leader. In the second strain, the flute part duplicates the upper notes of the violin's octave, the first cornet and first clarinet the lower notes.


Combined with the melody, the circled notes would create what I call a "wedge," two voices approaching the final tonic from opposite directions. Historically, the more common version has a descending line above and a rising line below, but here Sousa does the opposite. We are obliged to imagine the final tonic note in the descending line ^5-^4-^3-^2- (^1). I have examined the full band score for this march and no part makes a ^2-^1 descent.

Tuesday, August 13, 2019

Castillon, Valses humoristiques (1871)

Alexis de Castillon followed one of the familiar trajectories for a 19th century musician. From an aristocratic family, he was intended for law or the military but resisted and went into music instead. He studied at the Paris Conservatoire under Massé and Franck; among his friends was Saint-Saëns. Generally in poor health, he died young.

In de Castillon's 6 Valses humoristiques (1871) the first number is of interest. Its principal strain offers the rising line from ^5 in stark simplicity, including V9:


(Note that the second strain drills in the upper tetrachord, now with a descending scale figure--boxed.)

The design is ABCDAE, where E is a coda whose final phrase is recalls the opening with the melody in the left hand:

Saturday, June 8, 2019

A choral fugue by Handel

Given the strong conventions enforced by Italian style in the eighteenth century, it always feels like a surprise to find an obvious ascending gesture in a structural cadence in music from this period. But here is one: from Handel’s oratorio Solomon (1748), no. 6 “Throughout the land Jehovah’s praise.” This number holds to conventional formulas for a choral fugue but at the same time manages an especially striking ending. In the examples below, I have shown the opening of the chorus with the first three entries of the subject, then the ending, soprano part only with Dr. John Clarke’s keyboard reduction. Note the cadenza perfetta (6-8), the grand pause (boxed), and the final cadence with rising line in the soprano (also boxed).

Beginning:



Ending (soprano and keyboard reduction only):


Wednesday, January 9, 2019

Grieg, Lyric Pieces, Op. 68, part 2

The somewhat strange Valse mélancholique is no. 6, the last number, in Grieg's Op. 68. Sounding like a merger of Chopin's well-known melancholy waltz in A minor and the most repetitious of Tchaikovsky's ballet waltzes, the Valse mélancholique is also insistently dissonant, breaks up its harmonic progression oddly on more than one occasion, and includes a decidedly un-melancholic explosion in its structural cadence.

A rising line is a central figure in the opening. A four-introduction is followed by a thirty-two bar period that forms the waltz's first strain. The 16-bar antecedent phase, bars 5-20, brings a line very gradually up from D5 (doubled with D4) but it is broken after the F5 in bar 19 by a surprise harmonic break to a Neapolitan (G minor: an Ab6 chord) in bar 20, after which the consequent phase begins and plods along, becoming more and more insistent and finally pounding out the concluding notes of the rising line.



I hear the more active "alto" as thoroughly meshed with the octaves just discussed above, but it is entirely legitimate to hear the internal voice more or less independently. I have traced it in red below, an extra strand emerging after bar 28 being in green. Regardless of how it begins, however, the dramatic rising trajectory of the octaves takes over in the final bars.



The coda follows directly on the repetition of the fortissimo cadences in the reprise and takes a classic coda form with "reminiscences" over a tonic pedal point. Note that the octaves, having fulfilled their role, are gone, and we hear the alto's tune, still in the middle of the texture.


Brahms, Liebeslieder-Walzer, op. 52, n3

The third number in Brahms's opus 52 is brief, a duo for tenor and bass, for whom the slightly obnoxious text offers that a fellow would have become a monk if it were not for the charms of women.

Here is the piece in a piano reduction (not by Brahms but obviously based very closely on his piano four-hands version). All in all, a simple rising line from ^5 in the first strain, repeated to end the second.

Here is the texted version with solo piano accompaniment. The tenor might be said to trace a line from ^3 downward, so long as one is willing to understand ^7 in the penultimate bar as a substitution for ^2--not unreasonable. It is, however, telling that Brahms—far from emphasizing the voice parts in his own piano versions of the piece—dropped them.



Hummel, German Dance, op. 45n4

Hummel's Opus 45 (1812) is a set of dances meant for performance in the Apollo Saal, one of the largest of such entertainment centers in Vienna, with multiple rooms in which one could dance, talk, eat, or gamble (link to German Wikipedia). As a published collection in piano arrangement, Op. 45 consists of a march introduction, six menuets with trios, six German dances with trios, and a lengthy coda.

The fourth German dance is easily heard with a simple rising line in the first strain and an extended ^8 with double neighbors in the second strain. Performance practice would dictate the likelihood that the first strain would be repeated after the second. An interesting point about the first strain is that the first phrase gives us half-note length Urlinie notes on the strong beat—D5 in bar 2, E5 in bar 4—where the second phrase does the reverse, giving us F#5 immediately in bar 5 and G5 in bar 7. The symmetry makes for an elegant theme.


Alternatively, one might decide to take the initial ^8—which I have called a cover tone above—and regard that as the focal tone, a reading that makes sense given the figures of the second strain, as described above. If so, the result is an ^8-^7-^8 Urlinie with a middleground ascent connecting to ^7 in the second phrase (see ^5 and ^6 in parentheses in the first phrase).

Still another alternative would be to wait till the middle of the second strain to reach ^3, as B5. An initial ascent is easy enough to hear, as is a descent in the cadence. Whether such an expressive toppling of the formal design is justified, whether it makes much musical or artistic sense, is a matter of opinion. Such late placements of the initial focal tone are not uncommon in traditional Schenkerian analysis but are rarely very convincing. Here, of course, if we take performance practice for dance music into account, this reading could only be sustained in the case of AB or ABAB, not if the first strain is repeated to end, ABA or ABABA.


Thursday, January 3, 2019

E. F. Richter, "Frühlingsglaube"

Ernst Friedrich Richter is known mainly as a very successful theory and composition textbook author. In the mid-nineteenth century, he taught at the newly founded Leipzig Conservatory.  He was also a composer. "Frühlingsglaube," the first of two choral pieces for soprano voices on poems by Ludwig Uhland, is striking in its treatment of an ascending cadence gesture, a parallelism with a descending cadence formula, and the artistically sensitive expression of text achieved through the cadence parallelism.

The poem is in two verses of nearly equal length (7 lines in the first, 8 in the second), its parallelisms made clear by repetition of the final line, "Nun muss sich alles, alles wenden" ("Now everything, everything must change"). In the usual mode of Romantic irony, the poem lauds the pleasures and new life of spring—but as an escape from pain and suffering. (It's easy to make light of that now, but in an era when death was likely by the age of 50, and not uncommon by 40, and where the worst urban diseases, small pox, tuberculosis, and syphilis, were still largely not understood, such oppositions were serious and had considerable immediacy.)

The music for the two verses is very similar, the first half (with a cadence to the dominant) being essentially identical, the second half altered in the second verse as it approaches the cadence. The first phrase of this second half emphasizes ^4 over a progression that extends the dominant, and then resolves to ^3, but over C# minor harmony. After that, repeatedly rising figures considerably expand the setting of "Nun muss sich alles, alles wenden" but a cadence does finally arrive in the lower register, not the upper.


The parallel place in the second verse expands the setting even further, reaching E5 a third time (circled in the second system below).


The original cadence phrase then starts up but its rise to ^5 is continued onward to ^8 this time. Note the common substitution of ^2 (or ^9) through a voice exchange with the alto.

The expansions of the two verse endings develop the material nicely as a way to express "everything must change" but their insistence also throws off the symmetry of the verse halves and the pairing of pleasant spring imagery against what amounts to a half-despairing cry, not "Everything is changing" but "Everything must change."

Thursday, November 15, 2018

Chaminade, Mazurka, Op. 1n2

Cécile Chaminade, Mazurka, Op. 1n2 (1869). In the multi-strain with reprise design typical of 19th century dances, here as ABACDCAEA, where C, D, and E are in the subdominant. The A strain is shown below. Using Schenker terms and following one of my 1987 articles, I would call this a three-part Ursatz, with soprano descant (^3-^4-^4-^3) and alto Urlinie ^5-^6-^7-^8. Bars 5-8 repeat 1-4.


Reference: Neumeyer, David. "The Three-Part Ursatz." In Theory Only 10/1-2: 3-29.

Thursday, August 23, 2018

Chaminade, Passacaille, op. 130

Chaminade's Passacaille, op. 130, was published in 1909, shortly after her successful tour to the United States, where the highlight was a performance of her own Concertstück with the Philadelphia Orchestra. The Passacaille belongs to a genre of Baroque keyboard nostalgia, to which composers in several countries contributed but which was especially favored in France. Chaminade's Menuet Galant, op. 129, was published at the same time.

By the title, the composer refers loosely to French Baroque keyboard styles, not to the ground-bass variation form. Her op. 130 is in triple meter, as was traditional for the passacaille, and in rondeau form with theme and couplets, though she treats this design loosely, the overall effect being of a ternary form. The first 48 bars are repeated in toto to close the piece.

The opening 16 bars give strong priority to a proto-background ^3/^5, as the unfolded intervals show. Note especially the line from within reaching up to B5 in bars 15-16.


Bars 17-32 are a contrasting B-section, 33-40 a retransition that points toward ^3, which duly arrives in bar 41. The abbreviated reprise then traces a simple rising line twice and does it emphatically into the cadence.


Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Offenbach, Pomme d'api (1873), no. 7 Romance

If I had been working through La Pomme d'api in topical rather than chronological fashion, I would have started with no. 7, Gustave's strophic romance "Consultez votre coeur," the only number in the operetta that positions a simple rising line in the structural cadence (without the complications of coda expressions). (For a number list and synopsis of the operetta, see the introduction: link.)

There are two strophes, where a partial line descends in the first, and a simple rising line with ^7 emphasized dramatically (with fermata) closes the second.

At (a), the proto-background frame ^8/^5, as F5-C5 (written). At (b), the frame expands outward with G5 as neighbor; at (c) a firm descent in the cadence, but a wedge is also formed with movement from below A4-A#4-B-nat4-C5. At (d), a reprise of (a) for the consequent, and at (e), the frame is flipped to permit a cadence to F4.


In the consequent phrase of the reprise, note the progress toward the cadence. Overall, the effect is that of the "mirror Urlinie," with descent from ^8 and subsequent return.


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, June 8, 2017

JMT series, part 4a-2 (simple rising lines)

In note 28 I wrote "Other pieces that use the simplest form of the rising Urlinie include the following (qualifying comments in parentheses)."

Among the pieces named was Haydn, Symphony no. 104, III. It's not quite as simple as I claimed, however—there is a drop from ^6 down to ^7, which also happens in the menuet of Symphony no. 86 (as discussed in my essay Ascending Cadence Gestures: A Historical Survey from the 16th to the Early 19th Century, published on Texas Scholar Works: link). About Symphony 86 I wrote:
This time [in the reprise] B5 drops to C#5-D5 for the cadence. The end result is a "circle" of sorts, from D5 back to itself, but by means of an octave's worth of a scale. This device of undercutting the rise from ^6 to ^7 is discussed in my JMT article and seems to be particularly characteristic of the later 18th century. To speculate: the conventions associated with the dominant Italian style (which we know better nowadays through research on the partimenti, evidence of methods of instruction) were so strong that Haydn felt an obligation to observe them in some situations, rather than take full advantage of the rising cadence gesture. In any case, the leap downward from a subdominant to the leading tone is very expressive in and of itself.
The key is the same in Symphony no. 104, ^5 is as firmly settled as the tonic pedal note underneath it, and a string of parallel sixths lead the melodic line down to the cadence. Only the sforzando on the last beat of bar 6 suggests anything different: B5 sticks out above, then leaps down to the dominant's C#5 (see the box).

What that sforzando hints at it is the possibility of a rising line from A5, but, as happened in Symphony no. 86, directionality is undermined by curling back to the lower octave instead of rising toward C#6 and D6.


As is well known, Haydn can't seem to leave things alone in a reprise, and the effects can easily be seen even in design features like linear patterns. In the A section, the eight-bar theme is repeated (in different instrumentation). In the reprise, the theme statement makes it through six bars before changes start, the overall result being an extension of the continuation phrase from four bars to eleven, including two bars of grand pause (!), and a clearly profiled stepwise ascent from B4 through C#5 to D5 (see the second system below). The codetta adds a little flourish that gives us C#5-D6 at last.

This condensed version shows just the ^5-^8 progress over the course of the reprise.


Wednesday, June 7, 2017

JMT series, part 4a-1 (simple rising lines)

Note number 28 is the first in my article "The Ascending Urlinie" (Journal of Music Theory 1987) to contain a list of additional examples. In the article I wrote that motivic foregrounding and layering did not necessarily generate rising background lines. Here is my text for the first example:

n28: The Menuet of Haydn’s Symphony no. 100 is a case in point. In the first period (measures 1-8, which stand for the whole), the initial motion is strongly downward, but the final cadence produces a clear ascent from ^5 to ^8 in the upper-most part.

Thinking of this in Schenkerian terms—as I was in 1987—the rising line is not workable in the theme's first presentation because it doesn't mesh well with the bass, especially in bars 5-6, where one would have to imagine a doubling of bass and soprano, never a good idea. It's much easier to build a line in this way: D5 initiates a fifth-line; to C in bar 4, recapture C in bar 6, B on the last beat of that bar, then A in bar 7, and an implied G in bar 8. The ascending scale in the cadence is boundary play. See this version here:


In the reprise, on the other hand, the chromatic passing tone D# in the bass (from m. 6) is gone, and a string of diatonic figures, all rising, take over the lower parts, directly linking the chromatic scale fragment to the diatonic scale fragment (see the arrows in the figure below). As a result, the rising line from ^5 to ^8 has a clear path and pitch design can be read as well-matched to the important aspects of expression.


The text above comes from my essay Ascending Cadence Gestures: A Historical Survey from the 16th to the Early 19th Century, published on Texas Scholar Works: link.

Subsequent posts will offer more discussion of pieces named in note 28.

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Gallery of Simple Examples, volume 2

I have posted a sequel to the gallery of simple examples (link to volume 1). The title is A Gallery of Simple Examples of Extended Rising Melodic Shapes, Volume 2: link to volume 2.

Here is the abstract:
This second installment of direct, cleanly formed rising lines offers examples from a variety of sources, ranging from a short early seventeenth century choral piece to Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony, and from Scottish fiddle tunes to Victor Herbert operettas.
Here is a combined table of contents for the two volumes, arranged chronologically and with the volume number indicated:
Praetorius, three-voice motet "Preis sei Gott in der Höhe"       -- vol. 2
Johann Heinrich Schmelzer, Partita ex Vienna, Courante      -- vol. 2
Böhm, Suite in F minor, Courante       -- vol. 1
Anon., Chelsea Stage    -- vol. 2
Anon., The Duchess of Gordon     -- vol. 2
Anon., The Kerry Jig       -- vol. 2
Anon., The Nabob        -- vol. 2
Anon., The Runaway Bride   -- vol. 2
Anon., Shepherds Jigg   -- vol. 2
Anon., Yankey Doodle      -- vol. 2
Mozart, 12 Menuets, K176n1       -- vol. 1
Haydn, String Quartet in D Major, Op76n2, III       -- vol. 1
Haydn, Symphony no. 86, III      -- vol. 1
Beethoven, 12 German Dances, WoO8n1       -- vol. 1
Hummel, from 6 German Dances & 12 Trios, op. 16      -- vol. 2
Schubert, Wiener-Damen-Ländler, D734n15       -- vol. 1
Schubert, Valses sentimentales, D779n13       -- vol. 1
Schubert, Ländler, D814n4       -- vol. 1
Schubert, Deutscher Tanz, D769n1       -- vol. 1
Schubert, Grazer Walzer, D924n9       -- vol. 1
Johann Strauss, sr., “Champagner Galop,” Op. 8      -- vol. 2
Johann Strauss, sr., Das Leben ein Tanz, oder Der Tanz ein Leben!, Op.49       -- vol. 1
Johann Strauss, sr., Exotische Pflanzen, Op.109       -- vol. 1
Johann Strauss, jr., Künstlerleben, op. 316       -- vol. 1
Brahms, “Über die See”       -- vol. 1
Tchaikovsky, The Nutcracker, March       -- vol. 1
Herbert,  Sweethearts, n7: "Jeannette and Her Little Wooden Shoes"      -- vol. 2
Herbert, Naughty Marietta, n17: "The Sweet Bye and Bye"      -- vol. 2
Herbert, Babette, n23: Finale III      -- vol. 2
Prokofiev, Classical Symphony, Gavotte      -- vol. 2
Gershwin, Shall We Dance, "Slap That Bass"      -- vol. 2
Waxman, Rebecca, "Hotel Lobby Waltz”      -- vol. 2 

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Music in 17th century Vienna, part 5

Today another dance from Johann Heinrich Schmelzer's second ballet for a production of Cesti's Il pomo d'oro in 1667. The numbers in this ballet are Gran ballo, Aria, Branle di Morsetti, Sarabanda per la terra, Balletto per il mare, Trezza, Aria Viennense, and Gigue. In an earlier post I looked at "Trezza," today the Branle di Morsetti.

In what has become a recurrent theme in this series, the Branle opens with a clearly defined tonal space of ^5-^8, from which a line proceeds, but in this case extending from ^5 rather than ^8. Note that the first strain even works out an interruption form (^5 down to ^2 in the antecedent, ^5 finishing on ^1 in the consequent), a design that seems anachronistic for what was already then considered an old-fashioned dance.

In the second strain a largely simple ascent from ^5 to ^8 is preceded by a neighbor note figure.


Saturday, April 15, 2017

Music in 17th century Vienna, part 2

Continuing the series of posts on music by Johann Heinrich Schmelzer, here is another courante from from DTÖ volume 56. The suite is titled Partita ex Vienna, and its five numbers are Branle de village, Courente, Sarabande, Brader Tantz zu Wien, and Alio modo. I have no further information on the piece, as the introduction to volume 56 was published separately (that is, not included in the music volume).

In terms of melodic design, this is the simplest of the pieces in this series of posts: strong emphasis on ^5 throughout and an uncomplicated treatment of the upper register resulting in a simple ascending Urlinie.


Sunday, April 9, 2017

Celtic series, part 4

This is the final entry in the Celtic series, which offers a preview of a documentation essay I am preparing now and hope to publish by the end of April.    [17 May 2017: see this entry--link--for an abstract and a link to the published essay.]

Of the four categories, the third is represented here with one more tune: "long" cadences where the lower and upper registers are connected by a stepwise sequence. The others are in category 4: modal tunes, or tunes showing a modal heritage.

"The Ruins of Killmallock" differs from the tunes discussed yesterday in that its B-section is concerned throughout with scaling the octave, down and up, rather than keeping the upper and lower registers separate until the run to the cadence. The result is a clear unfolding of the 6-8 clausula vera figure (see the final two bars).



Modal tunes are difficult to assess on a number of counts, not least being reliability of the transcriptions. If the tunes are as old as their modal turns suggest, then there is also the likelihood of multiple regional or individual variants, only one of which would have been captured in the particular published version. In the two dozen sources I am using for the documentary essay, only a small number of modal tunes appear, almost all of them in two volumes of Irish melodies.

The "Kerry Jig"--in two versions from different sources--is the easiest to read. Beginning in A minor, it closes in C major with a simple rising line, C: ^5-^6-^7-^8.



"The Oyster Wives Rant" is a reel, a Dorian melody (on A) assuming the i-VII-i harmony one associates with Celtic music nowadays. The boxes block out the fifths frame: A4-E5, G4-D5, E5-A4. I haven't marked the possible lines involved, but A4-G4-(A4)-B4-A4 is possible in the lower voices, and a modal primitive line E5-(D5)-E5-G5-(A5) in the upper.


"Thou fair pulse of my heart" is a slow ballad, not a dance tune. Although it is a song, it makes interesting use of lower and upper registers in a manner similar to the fiddle tunes. At the beginning G4-D5 is unfolded, then D5 is extended with a neighbor note Eb5. In the continuation phrase a scale (boxed) moves directly up to F4 and the close is on ^8. In section B, the registral order is reversed—as we've seen several times already in the fiddle tunes—with the upper one first (see directional arrows beginning in bar 9). The slow-moving cadence in the lowest register (boxed at the end) is a surprise.


Monday, April 3, 2017

Celtic series, part 1

I am preparing a new essay to be published on the Texas Scholar Works platform (link to my page there). The title is English, Scotch, and Irish Dance and Song: On Cadence Gestures and Figures, and it will be primarily a documentation of some 270 ascending-cadence examples from eighteenth and nineteenth century sources. With luck, I will have graphics and commentary finished before the end of April.     [17 May 2017: see this entry--link--for an abstract and a link to the published essay.]

Two large caveats are in order (both are discussed at length in the introduction to the essay): (1) my usual warning about music for social uses (the published version is not "the piece," which would certainly involve multiple iterations, but also variations, improvisation, interludes (or "trios"), and sequences ("sets" or "medleys"); (2) a warning that the sources are of all sorts, from published commercial products to ethnographic transcriptions. The sequence, here as in the essay, must be topical; a chronological sequence by publication date would be nonsensical (to give a taste of the problem: in the large collections of Joyce and O'Neill, one repeatedly finds notes to the effect "I remember this from childhood" or "from the singing of _____ in County _____"). Related to (2): the bass-clef accompaniments are additions to commercial publications. This is historically a repertoire of song, fiddle, and flute; the most likely more complex accompaniment (before the piano in a mid-nineteenth upper-middle class household) would be a harp.

The four categories are: (1) simple examples of rising lines, with appropriate focal tones; (2) play of registers common in—and congenial to—the violin; (3) "long" cadences where the lower and upper registers are connected by a stepwise sequence; (4) modal tunes, or tunes showing a modal heritage.

To begin, then: "The Duchess of Gordon," my one example of a simple rising line. The strathspey is a slow, often highly ornamented fiddle tune making frequent use of dotted notes, including the "Scotch snap" (see beat three in bar 1). This version, where the two phrases are identical, is most likely a fragment.



The next example is "David Grady's Reel," from P. W. Joyce, Ancient Irish Music: comprising one hundred airs hitherto unpublished, many of the old popular songs, and several new songs (1873). The reel is a lively dance in common time. I can't speak to the dances, but the music for the reel and the jig are often "cousins," the one in duple, the other in triple time.

As this already demonstrates, categories (1) & (2) overlap more often than not. By far the most common registral distinctions map onto the violin's fifths layout as lower fifth and upper fourth of the octave, or G4-D5 and D5-G5, indicated with directional arrows in the first system below. In this instance, the lower register dips down still further to the open D string. The upper register easily accommodates a stepwise ascending cadence gesture, repeated in every phrase here (boxed). Two points of interest: (1) phrases 2-4 open with a gesture to a successively higher note (circled and connected); (2) the high note B5, sforzando, articulates the division between repetitions of the tune (arrow in the final bar).



Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Four from the movies (2): Le Tourbillon

Four from the movies (2): "Le Tourbillon" from Jules et Jim (Truffaut, 1962). Link to YouTube clip with the scene from the film: link.

Here is my transcription of the tune. A two-part design with closely similar endings—rising figures in bars 7-8 and 17-18. Part B has a double ending, a "standard" position for the cadence in 15-16 and the ending in 17-18 that we hear as nearly the same as bars 7-8. The figure in bars 10 and 14 is particularly expressive as it carries the text "tourbillon."


Two graphs: the first divides the tune in half, with a three-part Ursatz in 1-8 and a different one in 9-18. In the latter, the background ^2 is assumed at bar 12, which I grant is not entirely satisfactory as it forces the ^1 to appear at the beginning of the repeated figure (13-14) that held ^3 the first time around (9-10). An alternative would be to imply ^2 in bar 15 and ^1 in bar 16, with the latter only sounded in retrospect in bar 18. Again, not entirely satisfactory.


The second graph draws on the common "one-too-far" figure that is often used in, for example, country dances, at the beginning of the B-section, as here. The association of "one-too-far" with the text at that moment (in one of the verses, at least) "tourbillon" seems apt. The result of isolating ^3 in this way is a reading that seems more in tune, so to speak, with the shapes of the melody.


Saturday, February 25, 2017

Tin Pan Alley and Broadway, 1910s and 1920s (3)

Today's entry is by Wallie Herzer, still another Tin Pan Alley composer active around the time (before and after) World War I. "Everybody Two Step" is his best known piece. Wikipedia entry for Herzer: link. Link to the song on the Levy Collection site: link.

The chorus is a straightforward double period where the melody is controlled by obvious stepwise figures: Bars 1, 3, and 5 below will illustrate. The ending, with the ascent from ^5, is at the bottom of the page.