SMT Sample Proposals

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Presenting at a Conference

Committee on Professional Development


Society for Music Theory 2007

How to Write a Proposal

Joseph N. Straus
Graduate Center, CUNY

I. Before you start writing


A. Choose a topic
1. Seminar papers
2. Dissertation
3. Conference papers and articles by other people
B. Work collaboratively
1. Advisor and professors at your school
2. Colleagues
3. Outsiders within your emerging network
C. Use resources provided by SMT
1. Mentoring programs through CPD and CSW
2. CPD website
D. Do a substantial amount of the actual work
E. Study the Call for Papers and follow the instructions

II. Writing the proposal: Six generic conventions


(with thanks to Frank Samarotto, Sigrun Heinzelmann, Daphne Leong,
Andrew Pau, Michael Klein, Ed Gollin, and Michael Buchler)

1. State the problem (and say why it’s important and interesting).
None of the four movements that fulfill the function of the traditional Scherzo and Trio in
Brahms’s symphonies seem quite to fit that role. Indeed, each among the four seems to
be in various ways both superficial and subtle to be unique unto itself. The third
movement of the First Symphony resembles on its surface neither a scherzo nor a
minuet; as a duple-meter lyric pastoral in an apparent ternary form, it might be more
appropriately characterized as an intermezzo. (Samarotto)
Motivic analysis of music that does not strictly belong in either category [tonal or post-
tonal], such as music of the early 20th Century, poses difficulties not sufficiently
addressed by a single tradition. (Heinzelmann)
The attention paid by the music-theoretic community to Milton Babbitt’s oeuvre has
focused largely on structural attributes, and to a lesser degree on listening experience
and critical reaction, neglecting in large part performing experience (particularly that of
performers who are not also theorists). (Leong)

2. Connect with the literature (what you draw on; how you differ).
The “scordatura fantasy” in Lewin 1998 explored the question: given two specific set
classes, what are the possible voice leadings between them? Our inquiry into Berg’s op.
5, no. 1 suggests a variation of the same question: given a specific trichordal set class
and a specific voice leading, what are the possible set-class destinations? (Pau)
Initial entrée into this aspect of the piece might be provided by an intriguing but
enigmatic analysis of the opening in Schenker’s Free Composition. (Samarotto)
Building on the Matthew Santa’s concept of Modular Transformation, I define eight types
of motivic transformations, illustrate them with examples from Bach to Bartók, and
introduce a new graphic representation of motivic transformation able to show changes
of pitch as well as rhythm. (Heinzelmann)
In his recent article on narrative archetypes, Bryon Almén borrows James Liszka’s
semiotic theory of myth and applies it to the study of musical narrative (Almén 2003;
Liszka 1989). Although Almén’s article holds much promise, it focuses primarily on
Liszka’s method of structuring myth while largely ignoring a greater concern to show how
myths are involved with cultural values. The proposed paper, therefore, seeks to expand
Almén’s theory to demonstrate how musical narratives confront both musical and cultural
values. (Klein)

3. Identify your solution to the problem. Thesis statement (“I will show…”).
What’s new here?
In this paper, I submit that in certain atonal pieces, a coherent musical structure is
created through the use of consistency in voice leading, rather than through consistency
in harmony. In exploring my thesis, I will focus on a specific class of voice leading, the
chromatic wedge. (Pau)
In the following analysis, I will argue that Brahms has infused a traditionally segmented
form with a fluidity and developmental impetus more associated with sonata movements.
Brahms has so greatly remade the symphonic scherzo that the entire movement seems
almost to fall within a single breath. An even greater achievement is that this remaking
seems to occur not from without, by smoothing over formal divisions, for instance, but
from within, through the most fluent realization of the metaphor of organic growth.
(Samarotto)
The paper considers an unusual serial design and its relation to Bartók’s manuscript
revisions in “Divided Arpeggios” from Mikrokosmos vol. 6. In particular, we explore how
Bartók’s transposition of a seven-measure passage in his working copy of the final
draft—turning what was, in the earlier drafts, a harmonically closed B section into a
harmonically open section—interacts with the work’s cyclical/serial design, engendering
transformational isomorphisms with certain local and large-scale contrapuntal and
harmonic structures in the work. (Gollin)
“My Time of Day” is Sky Masterson’s confession: it is where he sheds his cool exterior
and comes to terms with the fact that he has fallen in love with a missionary, a woman
he only courted in order to win a bet. Each tonal region corresponds to a different phase
in Sky’s dramatic personal transformation. The various modulations and tonicizations all
accompany motivic or thematic changes, thereby projecting a series of relatively
disjointed narrative events. Because this song is short, episodic, and fairly terse, in my
talk I will spin out a fairly detailed analytical narrative, discussing tonal regions,
counterpoint, and their textual correspondences. (Buchler)
My paper demonstrates how the concept of step class enables a “parallel universe” of
step-class operations suited to describe motivic transformations in modal, tonal, and
post-tonal music. The enormous flexibility of the step-class approach stems from the fact
that step classes can be mapped onto a variety of referential collections (e.g., the
diatonic or octatonic). (Heinzelmann)
Our co-authored paper examines Babbitt’s None but the Lonely Flute for
unaccompanied flute (1991) from the points of view of flutist and theorist. We focus on
the virtuosity—compositional and performative, apparent and hidden—that permeates
the work. (Leong)
4. Describe your methodology.
Example 1 illustrates the Icc relation between the two statements. However, whereas
inversion-about-C underscores a formal relationship in the large, it says little about the
content and function of the inverted passages it relates. More fundamental to the work’s
structure, I argue, is its organization around what I have called maximally-distributed
multi-aggregate (MDMA) cycles. (Gollin)
The sketch appended to this proposal reflects one facet of my analytical methodology,
and I will briefly explain some of the non-standard notation and their narrative
implications. (Buchler)
I will introduce eight types of step-class operations grouped into four categories (see
example 1b). The first category includes motivic transformations within a single modular
space… The second category discusses motivic transformation across different modular
spaces (referential collections of different cardinality)…. The third category concerns
inversions within and across modular spaces…. Finally, I briefly discuss internal motivic
transformations; that is, transformations not brought about by a change in the referential
pitch-class environment. (Heinzelmann)

5. Demonstrate specific results.


We can see that there are clear similarities in the voice leading between trichords p and
q in Example 4 and the voice leading between trichords x and z in Example 2. However,
while the voices lead off from the same pitch-class set in both examples (x and p), they
lead to destination trichords (z and q) that exhibit different pitch-class content and set-
class membership. In other words, the trichordal pairs in these two examples from
Berg’s op. 5, no. 1 exhibit consistency in voice leading, but not in harmonic motion.
(Pau)
A related fluidity pervades the form. The opening theme of the intermezzo recurs as an
ever expanding antecedent but is not tonally closed until the end of the movement.
Example 5, an overview of the whole movement’s voice-leading structure, shows that
the bass motion of the first five bars, Ab–F–C–Eb, is expanded throughout the A section.
(Samarotto)
Example 4a illustrates how pcs of the (3,5,3,3)-cycle are distributed pair-wise, with either
10 or 14 steps between like pairs (with an ordered pair-wise pc grouping, an 11/13
distribution is not possible). The exposition unfolds the complete even form (unfolding
clockwise on Ex. 3), while the reprise unfolds the complete odd form (unfolding
counterclockwise on Ex. 3). The presentation of both forms of the (3,5,3,3)-cycle in the
exposition and reprise both distinguishes and binds the two sections. (Gollin)
^
However, the resurgence of 3 at m. 19 signifies a transformation of the initial melodic
tone, now re-cast in the new key (G major). It more clearly represents a continuation of
that initial A than either the salient A in m. 12 or the Ab in m. 16. These measures (12,
16, and 19) each function as points of dramatic and musical transformation as Sky
Masterson gradually becomes the person that the missionary Sarah Brown wants him to
be. (Buchler)
Chopin’s Second Ballade opens with the pastoral theme shown in Example 1,
representing a desirable order that closes positively in the putative home key, F major.
The second theme, also shown in Example 1, crashes upon the idyllic scene, beginning
in A minor and announcing a storm or battle topic. Our sympathies lie with the opening
theme, suggesting that a desirable close to this narrative will find the storm subsided and
the pastoral theme reasserted in the home key. But, as Example 2 shows, when the
pastoral theme reappears, it has difficulty maintaining that musical topic, this time
concluding with a passage that prolongs an anxious and striving diminished-7th, leading
to a blaring announcement in G minor before a move to the dominant of D minor. (Klein)
The notated meter plays an ambiguous role, fluctuating dramatically in its distance from
both time-point structure and musical surface. Although this distance prompts some
critics to question the perceptual relevance of precise time points, duration, and even
tempi, it is not an isomorphism of surface, meter, and time-point array that demonstrates
both Babbitt’s and the performer’s virtuosity, but rather interplay among all three levels—
now distant, now coinciding. Babbitt’s skillful manipulation of these distances can be
seen in mm. 98-108, the “climax” of Lonely Flute. (See Example 4 and corresponding
array aggregates in Example 5.) (Leong)

6. Conclusion (“I will show…”)


In each instance, the composer appears to have been focused primarily on voice-leading
gestures. As a result, the harmonic activity in the music is determined in large part by
the voice leading, not the other way round. (Pau)
This paper will show that this movement is composed as a series of ever-expanding
phrases that grow organically out of the opening five bars, subsume parenthetical
diversions (including a whole trio) in their wake, and completely overwhelm any sense of
the traditional formal divisions. (Samarotto)
The talk will explore the analytical consequences of other MS revisions, including
Bartók’s altered transition to the reprise and his alterations to the lead-ins of each
section—changes that have implications for the work’s motivic coherence and large-
scale tonal design. Bartók’s revisions offer a rare and fascinating view into his
compositional processes, a chance to compare the paths not taken with those he chose.
(Gollin)
Culturally, the ballade as ironic narrative replays a theme common to Chopin’s music,
which often questions an idealized pastoral. If, however, we hear the pastoral theme as
a singular voice, then the reversal of fortune in the ballade is tragic—the defeat belongs
not with tonality or pastoral as ideal types but with this particular use of tonality and this
particular token of pastoral. (Klein)
In Babbitt’s Lonely Flute, then, the virtuosity of both composer and performer plays hide
and seek. At times flamboyantly displayed, at others deeply hidden, virtuosity is at all
times a sine qua non of the work. (Leong)

III. Some concluding thoughts


A. Matters of presentation
1. Avoid footnotes (but include short bibliography)
2. Use nice graphics
3. Avoid errors of spelling, grammar, or fact
B. Matters of style and tone
1. Think about your audience
2. Establish authority in your area, but be generous to the non-
specialists
C. Work collaboratively
R iffing on Buxtehude: Hierarchical Memory and the
Analysis and Pedagogy of Keyboard Improvisation
Proposal

For all the ink dedicated to rhetoric in Baroque music, not enough of it has

acknowledged the importance of memoria, the skill that equipped the composer-

improviser-keyboardists of the Baroque to extemporize the pieces that we know today.

Figure 1 presents a three-tiered hierarchical model that places memoria as the linchpin

between improvisational learning (i.e., memorial input) and improvised performance (i.e.,

memorial output). Improvisers learn patterns on three interrelated levels---long-range

trajectories (dispositio), local generating principles and skeletal frameworks (elaboratio),

and diminution strategies to apply to these frameworks (decoratio)---and they rely upon

these three phases during extemporaneous playing.

By applying this model analytically to pieces such as the Buxtehude Variation

Suites, BuxWV 226, 228, 230, and 231, we can view each written-out improvisation as one

of countless possible interactions among dispositio, elaboratio, and decoratio. The first

reprises of the four Allemandes all reach the same series of basic waypoints (dispositio, Fig.

2), but each does so via its own set of generating formulas (elaboratio) and motivic

diminutions (decoratio). Figure 3 contrasts the elaboratio frameworks of these reprises. I

explore the precise nature of the similarities and differences among these four movements,

which lie sometimes on the surface and sometimes beneath it, and I utilize the model in

Fig. 1 in order to comment upon the improvisational meanings of variation for pieces such

as these.

This model is pedagogical as well as analytic; I report on a curriculum for teaching

the improvisation of Binary-form suite movements. Through repertoire study, students


deduce a generic dispositio for a Minuet (Fig. 4), which determines a basic layout of

phrases, cadences, modulations, and sequences. They also practice, transpose, and

memorize characteristic elaboratio frameworks (Fig. 5) and diminution strategies, all of

which are adapted from contemporaneous treatises by Wiedeburg, Niedt, and others.

Prior to improvising, students elaborate this dispositio with a piece-specific arrangement of

particular keys, modulatory paths, and sequence types (Fig. 6). Within this template, they

extemporize a series of learned elaboratio formulas that realize the chosen path, and

render these as a musical surface by applying melodic and rhythmic diminution (i.e.,

decoratio) to them; a sample improvised Minuet (Fig. 7) realizes the dispositio of Fig. 6.

And indeed, analysis and pedagogy fruitfully collide when we riff on Buxtehude,

rendering the elaboratio skeleton of BuxWV 231 with different surface motives (Fig. 8), or

preserving the surface motives of BuxWV 228 while employing different voice-leading

progressions to realize the underlying dispositio (Fig. 9). Such an improvisational dialogue

is simultaneously analytical and creative, and its flexibility derives from regarding

improvisational memory as hierarchical generation, rather than serial regurgitation. To

conceive of improvisational learning in this way is to view written-out improvisations such as

Buxtehude’s, quite rewardingly, as realizations of an infinitely variable set of generative

options, and also to offer an effective and creatively structured method for the present-day

teaching and learning of stylistic improvisation. In this way, the improvisation of Baroque

keyboard music resides in a place where analysis and musica pratica happily intersect.
R iffing on Buxtehude: Hierarchical Memory and the
Analysis and Pedagogy of Keyboard Improvisation
Required Equipment

Piano
LCD projector with Mac laptop connection
1/8-inch audio input (from laptop)
S elected Bibliography

[pseudo-Cicero]. 1954. Ad C. Herennium; de ratione dicendi (Rhetorica ad Herennium).


trans. Harry Caplan. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Dreyfus, Laurence. 1996. Bach and the Patterns of Invention. Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press.

Larson, Steve. 2005. “Composition versus Improvisation?” Journal of Music Theory


49/2 (Fall 2005), 241-273.

Niedt, Friedrich Erhardt. 1700, 1721, 1717. Die musikalische Handleitung. Hamburg:
Schiller.

Pressing, Jeff. 2000 (1988). “Improvisation: Methods and Models.” In Generative


Processes in Music, ed. John Sloboda, 129-178. New York: Oxford University Press.

---------------. 1998. “Psychological Constraints on Improvisational Expertise and


Communication.” In In the Course of Performance, ed. Bruno Nettl, 47-67. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.

Schulenberg, David. 1995. “Composition and Improvisation in the School of J. S. Bach.”


Bach Perspectives 1, ed. Russell Stinson. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press.

Spiridione a Monte Carmelo (Johann Nenning). 1670-1675. Nova Instructio pro


pulsandis organis. Bamberg.

Sudnow, David. 2001 (1993, 1978). Ways of the Hand: A Rewritten Account.
Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Wiedeburg, Michael. 1765, 1767, 1775. Der sich selbst informirende Clavierspieler.
R iffing on Buxtehude: Hierarchical Memory and the Figure 3. Elaboratio Reductions of Four First Reprises
Analysis and Pedagogy of Keyboard Improvisation
BuxWV 226:
Figure 1. Rhetorical Model of Baroque Keyboard Improvisation.

BuxWV 228:

BuxWV 230:

BuxWV 231:

Figure 2. Dispositio of Buxtehude, Allemandes (BuxWV 226,


228, 230, and 231), first reprises

(A) Initial Prolongation of Tonic


(B) Tonicization of IV and Intermediate Cadence in Tonic
(C) Modulation Strategy to V
(D) Cadential Confirmation of V
F igure 4. Generic Dispositio for an Improvised Minuet C. Modulations (key-seeking):

D. Sequences:

Figure 5. Elaboratio Patterns (to transpose and memorize)

A. Tonic expansions (key-defining):

Figure 6. Detailed Dispositio for an Improvised Minuet in D.

B. Cadences (key-confirming):
F igure 7. Sample Improvised Minuet Based upon the Dispositio Figure 8. Sample Improvisation Applying Different Decoratio
in Fig. 6 Patterns to the Elaboratio Framework of BuxWV 231

Figure 9. Sample Improvisation Realizing Buxtehude’s Dispositio


by Means of a New Elaboratio, but Rendered via the Lower-Neighbor
and Turn Figures of BuxWV 228
The “Continuous Exposition” and the
Concept of Subordinate Theme

Proposal
The remarkable flourishing of research into the theory of musical form witnessed in the

last several decades has resulted in the propagation of many new ideas and their

attendant terminology. This paper examines one key concept of Hepokoski and Darcy’s

recent “Sonata Theory”—their fundamental distinction between sonata expositions that

are either two-part or continuous. Considering this distinction is useful not only to probe

its general efficacy for formal analysis, but also because it permits us to evaluate a

number of other key notions associated with Sonata Theory, especially the medial caesura

and secondary-theme zone (S). For Hepokoski and Darcy ground the distinction between

exposition types largely in terms of these two concepts: a two-part exposition contains

both a medial caesura and an S-zone, whereas a continuous exposition contains neither.

I contend that this binary opposition misconstrues the commonality of formal

procedures operative in classical sonata form and, following Caplin’s “form-functional”

approach, insist that all expositions contain a subordinate theme (or, at least, sufficient

functional elements of such a theme), even if the boundary between the transition and

subordinate theme is obscured, a situation that can give rise to “continuous”

expositions according to Sonata Theory. To frame my argument, I propose three

categories of such a blurred boundary. In the first, the transition lacks a functional

ending, but the subordinate theme still brings an initiating function of some kind (e.g.,

Haydn’s “Farewell” Symphony). In the second category, the transition ends normally,

but the subordinate theme lacks a clear beginning. Two subcategories involve cases

where (a) the subordinate theme introduces a new standing on the dominant, one that
prolongs the same harmony found at the end of the transition (Mozart’s “Hunt”

Quartet, Example 1), or (b) the end of the transition is reinterpreted as an internal half

cadence of a subordinate theme, which is then followed by a new continuation or

cadential function leading to a PAC in the new key (Haydn’s “Joke” Quartet, Example

2). In the third category, both the transition lacks an end and the subordinate theme

lacks a beginning, thus effecting a complete fusion of these thematic functions (Haydn’s

Quartet Op. 33/1).

I conclude by examining some of the key conceptual differences that account for the

divergent views of expositional structures offered by Sonata Theory and Caplin’s

theory of formal functions. In particular I assert that whereas the medial caesura is an

effective rhetorical device, it has no essential form-functional consequences: it is neither

responsible for ending the transition nor is it a necessary condition for the existence of a

subordinate theme. Likewise, the distinction between two-part and continuous

expositions, while useful as an informal description of textural and rhythmical

processes, obscures the unity of formal syntax of instrumental music in the high

classical style. Rather than focusing on rhythmic and textural devices to define

expositional structure, I advocate instead an analytical methodology that attends to the

form-functional expression of individual phrases making up thematic units within a

sonata exposition.

The “Continuous Exposition” and the Concept of Subordinate Theme


3

Selected Bibliography
Caplin, William. Classical Form (Oxford, 1998).
Caplin, William, James Hepokoski, and James Webster. Form, Forms, and Formenlehre
(Leuven, 2009).
Darcy, Warren, and James Hepokoski. “The Medial Caesura and Its Role in the
Eighteenth-Century Sonata Exposition, Music Theory Spectrum, 1997.
Hepokoski, James, and Warren Darcy. Elements of Sonata Theory (Oxford, 2006).
Larsen, Jens Peter, “Sonaten-Form Probleme,” Blume Festschrift (Bärenreiter, 1963).
Suurpää, Lauri. “Continuous Exposition and Tonal Structure in Three Late Haydn
Works,” Music Theory Spectrum, 1999.

Example 1: Mozart, String Quartet in B-flat (“Hunt”), K. 458, i, 41–79

The “Continuous Exposition” and the Concept of Subordinate Theme


4

Example 1, cont.

The “Continuous Exposition” and the Concept of Subordinate Theme


5

Example 2: Haydn, String Quartet in E-flat (“The Joke”), Op. 33/2, i, 13–29

The “Continuous Exposition” and the Concept of Subordinate Theme


6

Example 2, cont.

The “Continuous Exposition” and the Concept of Subordinate Theme


MUSIC AND THE AGENTS OF OBSESSION

Drawing on recent studies of musical madness, this paper proposes an historically

grounded model of the musical representation of obsession.1 Formed in the late eighteenth

century and popularized by the development of psychiatry in the nineteenth, medical theories of

obsession divide the mind into two conflicting agents: a rational, mobile agent, and a stubborn,

fixed agent.2 Contemporaneous with the emergence of this medical model of mental pathology,

an evocative musical topic—in which a note or group of notes is stuck, repeating itself within a

shifting harmonic context—has been used by composers to depict these obsessional spaces in

purely musical terms, signifying through metaphoric transfer: the images of obsession (the

“mobile idea vs. the fixed idea”) are assigned musical equivalents (the “mobile harmony vs. the

fixed note”).3 The topic will be introduced via a brief survey through some notable texted

examples (Schubert’s “Die liebe Farbe,” Wolf’s “Im Frühling,” Vaughan Williams’s “In

Dreams”).

The conflict between the mobile and fixed agents of obsession creates stories that are

familiar from other expressive trajectories used to narrate disability (Straus 2006). Three model

analyses will demonstrate the most common narratives: the obsessive agent may be rehabilitated

(Brunetti’s programmatic symphony Il maniático), the obsessive agent may prompt a descent

1
Recent studies of musical representations of obsession include Brittan 2006, Burstein 2006, and
Rodgers 2006. Goldenberg 2006, a study of “musical obstinacy,” is also relevant.
2
For a recent study of the cultural history of obsession, see Davis 2008. Other medical-historical
studies include Berrios 1985 and Ingram 1991.
3
On the relevant theories of gesture and agency, see Hatten 2004. Monelle 2006 explores at
length the relationship between topics and the cultures that produce them. For example, Andrew
Harper, an eighteenth-century doctor, evocatively describes the obsessive mind as “pitched upon
a specific note and its nervous motions circumscribed within the limits of a certain modulation”
(Harper 1789).
“Obsession” / 2

into total madness (Britten’s Rejoice in the Lamb, mvt. 5), or the obsessive agent may be

accommodated by the rational agent (Peter Cornelius’s “Ein Ton”).

Brunetti’s formally peculiar symphony places the obsessive agent in the cello, who

repeats a “mania” motive (Example 1); according to the symphony’s program, his friends (the

rest of the orchestra) eventually encourage him to move along from his fixity.4 In the example by

Britten, a repetitive motive isolated in the organ (Figure 1) instigates a gradual darkening of

harmonies, from the all-white-key E minor to all-black-key E-flat minor (Figure 2); by m. 12 the

chorus, singing the obsessive motive, emerges as “mad.” Cornelius’s song presents a conflict

between the agents of the voice, who “obsessively” intones the entire text on B, and of the piano

accompanist, who proposes possible modulations but must scramble to accommodate the singer

when he refuses to budge (Figure 3). The moment of maximal conflict to the immobility of the

singer’s B comes in m. 24—but even there the piano’s B flat (which suggests resolutions that

would render B dissonant, Figure 4) does little to nudge the voice from its fixity.

4
On minor-to-major “recuperation,” see Grave 2008.
“Obsession” / 3

EXAMPLES AND FIGURES

Example 1: First appearance of the solo cello’s “mania” figure (strings only). Brunetti,
Symphony no. 33 (Il maniático), mvt. I, mm. 20–23.

Figure 1: The “obsessive” motive in Rejoice in the Lamb, mvt. 5. The motive is replicated at
three different pitch levels: D©-E-F©-G (m. 3), F©-G-A©-B (m. 6), and A©-B-C©-D (m. 9).

Figure 2: Motion from E minor to E-flat minor in Britten, Rejoice in the Lamb, mvt. 5,
mm. 1–12. The “scale” in the lower staff is derived from Figure 1; its whole notes represent the
bass note of each chord. (LP = Leittonwechsel + Parallel transformations)
“Obsession” / 4

Figure 3: Voice-leading sketch of Cornelius, “Ein Ton,” mm. 15–29.


“Obsession” / 5

Figure 4: Possible resolutions of the chord in m. 24 (Cornelius, “Ein Ton”). The third option—
Cornelius’s choice—allows the “obsessive” B to remain in place.
“Obsession” / 6

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Berrios, German E. 1985. “Obsessional Disorders during the Nineteenth Century:


Terminological and Classificatory Issues.” In The Anatomy of Madness: Essays in the
History of Psychiatry, volume 1, People and Ideas, ed. W. F. Bynum, Roy Porter, and
Michael Shepherd. [London]: Tavistock.

Brittan, Francesca. 2006. “Berlioz and the Pathological Fantastic: Melancholy, Monomania, and
Romantic Autobiography.” 19th-Century Music 29: 211–39.

Burstein, Poundie. 2006. “Les chansons des fous: On the Edge of Madness with Alkan.” In
Sounding Off: Theorizing Disability in Music, ed. Neil Lerner and Joseph N. Straus. New
York and London: Routledge.

Davis, Lennard J. 2008. Obsession: A History. Chicago and London: University of Chicago
Press.

Goldenberg, Yosef. 2006. “A Musical Gesture of Growing Obstinacy.” Music Theory Online
12.2.

Grave, Floyd. 2008. “Recuperation, Transformation and the Transcendence of Major over Minor
in the Finale of Haydn’s String Quartet Op. 76 No. 1.” Eighteenth-Century Music 5: 27–50.

Gut, Serge. 1990. “Le phénomène répétitif chez Maurice Ravel: De l’obsession à l’annihilation
incantatoire.” International Review of the Aesthetics and Sociology of Music 21: 29–46.

Harper, Andrew. 1789. Treatise on the Real Cause and Cure of Insanity. London: C. Stalker.

Hatten, Robert S. 2004. Interpreting Musical Gestures, Topics, and Tropes: Mozart, Beethoven,
Schubert. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press.

Ingram, Allan. 1991. The Madhouse of Language: Writing and Reading Madness in the
Eighteenth Century. London: Routledge.

Monelle, Raymond. 2006. The Musical Topic: Hunt, Military and Pastoral. Bloomington and
Indianapolis: Indiana University Press.

Rodgers, Stephen. 2006. “Mental Illness and Musical Metaphor in the First Movement of Hector
Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique.” In Sounding Off: Theorizing Disability in Music, ed. Neil
Lerner and Joseph N. Straus. New York and London: Routledge.

Straus, Joseph N. 2006. “Normalizing the Abnormal: Disability in Music and Music Theory.”
Journal of the American Musicological Society 59: 113–84.
PAPER PROPOSAL: “Isomorphic Mapping, Self-Similarity, and ‘Nesting’ in Charles
Wuorinen’s Cello Variations”

 American twelve-tone composer Charles Wuorinen recently celebrated the 30th

anniversary of his landmark twentieth-century composition manual, Simple Composition,

and its historical significance continues to grow.1 Not only does Wuorinen’s text coalesce

important twelve-tone developments from giants Schoenberg, Stravinsky, and Babbitt,

but it introduces his evolutionary “nesting method,” which transfers the implications of an

ordered series to the background structure of a piece. Though the book originally

addressed composers, its impact resonates through numerous spheres today, including:

composers, theorists, teachers, students, or anyone tracing the lineage of twentieth-

century twelve-tone serialism.

Though Simple Composition’s approach is abstract, most specific twelve-tone

practices it explicates – pre-existing concepts such as basic operations, multiplicative

transformation, rotation, derivation, etc. – have all been identified and analyzed in

musical works. Andrew Mead’s analyses of Milton Babbitt’s music and Joseph N.

Straus’s work on Stravinsky’s late music have facilitated the dissemination of these

important compositional contributions to the method.2 However, the crux of Wuorinen’s

text, his own “nesting method,” has been difficult for theorists to instantiate concretely

into actual pieces of music. This presentation will propose the first-ever comprehensive

analysis of the “nesting method,” illustrating that Wuorinen’s basic set – a hexachord


1
Charles Wuorinen, Simple Composition (New York: C.F. Peters Corporation, 1979).
2
For representative analyses see Andrew Mead, “About About Time’s Time: A Survey of
Milton Babbitt’s Recent Rhythmic Practices,” Perspectives of New Music 25 1/2 (1987);
and Joseph N. Straus, Stravinsky's Late Music (Cambridge Studies in Music Theory and
Analysis) (New York: Cambridge, 2004).
consisting of the pitches F, D, E, F#, B, and G – efficiently organizes pitched (introduced

by Schoenberg), rhythmic (introduced by Babbitt) and formal (introduced by Wuorinen)

elements of Cello Variations (see Fig. 1). I will present examples of the isomorphic fabric

conjoining pitch, local temporal, and global temporal dimensions, as well as construct a

comprehensive breakdown of the “nesting method” in this work (see Table 1). Like a set

of Russian dolls, the nested form unpacks self-similar versions of itself to communicate

uniform musical relationships.

By diagramming the intricate framework of Wuorinen’s Cello Variations, I aim to

not only further advance the dissemination of Wuorinen’s stylistic principles contained

within his music and text, but also illuminate yet another creative tributary in the

American twelve-tone tradition. This presentation hopes the many spheres of interest

attached to Simple Composition may use the models in Cello Variations as an integrative

demonstration of multiple twentieth-century twelve-tone techniques.


Selected Bibliography

 
   



 (&&)

Karchin, Louis. "Charles Wuorinen’s Reliquary for Igor Stravinsky." Contemporary

Music Review 20.4 (2001): 9-27.

Karchin, Louis. "Pitch Centricity as an Organizing Principle in Speculum Speculi of

Charles Wuorinen." Theory and Practice 14/15 (1989-90): 5-82.

Kresky, Jeffrey. "The Recent Music of Wuorinen." Perspectives of New Music 25 1/2

(1987): 410-17.

Mead, Andrew. "About About Time’s Time: A Survey of Milton Babbitt’s Recent

Rhythmic Practices." Perspectives of New Music 25, 1/2 (1987): 182-253.

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Straus, Joseph N. Stravinsky's Late Music (Cambridge Studies in Music Theory and

Analysis). New York: Cambridge, 2004.

Stravinsky, Igor. The Poetics of Music in the Form of Six Lessons. Cambridge: Harvard,

1970.

Wuorinen, Charles. Simple Composition. New York: C.F. Peters, 1979.


DIVISION 1: 6 large sections
1,296♪ / 36 = 36♪ (scaling unit)

Section 1 Section 2 Section 3 Section 4 Section 5 Section 6


9 x 36 = 324♪ 2 x 36 = 72♪ 2 x 36 = 72♪ 5 x 36 = 180♪ 8 x 36 = 288♪ 10 x 36 = 360♪

DIVISION 2: Section 1 subsections—with “S” divisions Section 2 subsections—with “I” divisions


324♪ / 36 = 9♪ (scaling unit) 72♪ / 36 = 2♪ (scaling unit)

9x9 2x9 2x9 5x9 8x9 10 x 9 3x2 10 x 2 10 x 2 7x2 4x2 2x2


=81♪ =18♪ = 18♪ = 45♪ = 72♪ = 90♪ = 6♪ = 20♪ = 20♪ = 14♪ = 8♪ = 4♪

DIVISION 3: Section 1, Subsection 1 Section 1, Subsection 2


81♪ / 36 = 2.25♪ (scaling unit) 18♪ / 36 = .5♪ (scaling unit)

9x 2x 2x 5x 8x 10 x 9x 2x 2x 5x 8x 10 x
2.25 2.25 2.25 2.25 2.25 2.25 .5 .5 .5 .5 .5 .5
=20.25♪ =4.5♪ =4.5♪ =11.25♪ =18♪ =22.5♪ =4.5♪ =1♪ =1♪ =2.5♪ =4♪ =5♪

(measure 5)
DIVISION 4: “measures with meters” 4 (m “measures with meters” 6 (measures 8-9)
12♪ used / 30 = .4 ♪ (scaling unit) 21♪ used / 31.5 = .67 ♪ (scaling unit)

9 (10) x 2x 2x 5x 8x 10 (3) x 9x 2x 2x 5x 8x 10 (5.5) x


.4 .4 .4 .4 .4 .4 .67 .67 .67 .67 .67 .67
=4♪ =.8♪
= =.8♪ =2♪ =3.2♪ =1.2♪
= =6♪ =1.33♪ =1.33♪ =3.33♪ =5.33♪ =3.67♪


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Improvising with “Perle Knets”

Recent connections between the compositional materials of George Perle and

theoretical/analytical approaches from David Lewin and Henry Klumpenhouwer (labeled

“PK”) have shown promise (Perle 1993, Lewin 2002). However, concerns about

relational “promiscuity,” recursion, and perceptibility (Buchler 2007) suggest that a more

practical orientation is needed. This paper proposes to explore PK materials through

keyboard improvisation, 1) to give a practical method for hearing their relationships; 2) to

show the interdependence of harmony and voice leading; and 3) to suggest the many

paths through pieces that PK materials offer analysts, following the argument for

multivalence given in Klumpenhouwer 2007.

The bases of PK are the twelve inversional sums and intervallic differences,

shown as contrary-motion sum wedges and parallel-motion difference interval parallels

(Ex. 1). In the simplest case, note pairs from a single wedge or parallel form the

structure, as has been shown in many analyses. Improvisation with PK materials begins

with these shapes, and recognition of aspects such as the differences between the even

and odd sums. Knets emerge when two wedges or one parallel and one wedge combine.

The trichord A-F#-B in Schoenberg’s Opus 19/6 (Ex. 2a, arrow) derives (a) from aligned

sum 3,5 wedges, with axes offset by one; the registral setting results from flipping one

“arm,” then reducing out the doubled voice (G#-G-F#, etc.). Example 2b shows a

wedging formation from the chord A-F#-B itself, in strongly isographic knets, and a

melodic Perle cyclic set representation, all for practice and context. Example 2c shows

an improvisatory path through the piece, exploiting the T2-based positively isographic

knets in six marked event areas. The voice leading shows how modulation between
wedges occurs by moving the voices unevenly, allowing for the changes from odd to

even sums that mark the form. The change from sums 3,5 (C-F-Bb) to sums 5,7 (C-F-G)

(Example 2d) adds another sum 5 wedge; the distance of 3 from Bb to G comes from the

alignment. This voice-leading pattern occurs throughout the piece and reflects the G-E-

C# bass notes; Example 2e can form the basis of an improvisation bridging mm. 6-7.

Improvisation with wedges and parallels allows us to understand PK materials as

a process, encompassing Lewinian “imbalance” and Perle’s symmetrical completion.

Schoenberg’s Opus 19, no. 1 (recast in Ex. 3) opens with improvisational wedges (lower

staff) from tetrachordal pairs (sums 9,3) and then trichordal pairs (sums 0,7); these reveal

the underlying structure in the harmony and voice leading: how A-C-G-G# gets to D#-B-

E-F# in the next bar, for instance. Example 4 shows the composing out of positive

isography in Stravinsky’s Pieces for Quartet, mvt. 3. Example 5 shows the opening of

Perle’s aptly-named “Improvisation,” in the more complex interwoven cycles that

characterize the two lines of his arrays; discussion will clarify how recursion is solved in

Perle’s music by these arrays. The paper will continue with interwoven cycles through

hexachordal knets from Berg and Messiaen, and will conclude with some comments on

the Whincop observation that Knets reduce to two Lnets with one I-relationship. The

latter may be interpreted as piling on additional parallels to an internal wedge.

Throughout, the practical orientation will attempt bridge the gap between current “gut-

level” understanding of PK materials and their analytical use.


References

Michael Buchler, “Reconsidering Klumpenhouwer Networks.” Music Theory


Online 13.2 (2007).
Henry Klumpenhouwer, “Reconsidering Klumpenhouwer Networks: a
Response.” Music Theory Online 13.3 (2007).
Michael Callahan. “Mapping Sum-and-Difference Space: Parallels Between Perle
and Lewin.” Theory & Practice vol. 33 (2008): 181-217.
Gretchen Foley, “The Efficacy of K-Nets in Perlean Theory.” Music Theory
Online 13/3 (Sept. 2007).
David Lewin. “Thoughts on Klumepnhouwer Networks and Perle-Lansky
Cycles” Music Theory Spectrum, vol. 24/2 (2002): 196-230.
George Perle. Music Theory Spectrum Oct 1993, Vol. 15, No. 2: 300–303.
Dave Headlam. Introduction to the Music of George Perle. Theory & Practice vol.
33 (2008): 1-45.
SCRIABIN AND THE POSSIBLE

Alexander Scriabin envisioned Prometheus, op. 60 as a “symphony of sound” counterpointed

by a “symphony of light” (Sabaneev 1910). However, the work premiered without the luce (color

organ) as hoped. Since then, the relationship between music and lights has not been well

understood. Cook (2000) wrote, “The luce part literally does add little; for while the slower part has no

discernible relationship to what is heard, the faster part simply duplicates information that is already

present in the music.” This paper reassesses the relationship between lights and music in Prometheus

based on the “Parisian score,” a manuscript containing Scriabin’s handwritten annotations for the

light part, and a fresh staging of the work informed by the manuscript, produced by this author.

As Example 1 shows, Scriabin correlated twelve colors of an expanded spectrum with the

roots of mystic chords transposed along the circle of fifths. The part written for luce, Example 2, has

two light “voices.” The faster voice moves with the fundamental bass of the mystic chord, and is a

visual manifestation of the work’s harmonic rhythm. The slower voice moves around a whole-tone

cycle, dividing the work into seven parts (Example 3). These large-scale sections correspond to

seven evolutionary stages described in Blavatsky’s The Secret Doctrine (1888), Scriabin’s metaphysical

source text (Sabaneev 2000). The slow luce delineates the work’s dramatic plot, providing new

insights into the work’s formal ambiguities.

The published luce part is a real-time visual analysis of the work occurring on two temporal

levels. However, the Parisian manuscript indicates the lights fulfilled additional aesthetic functions.

Scriabin’s annotations call for dynamic shading and special effects such as tongues of flame,

fireworks, and lighting bolts—effects that were impossible to realize with Scriabin’s available

technology, and existed only in his mind. This imaginary aspect of the work brings Prometheus closer

to the Mysterium, the unfeasibly grandiose ritual Scriabin was planning at the time of his death. As

1
Morrison recounts in “Skryabin and the Impossible” (1998), Scriabin hoped the Mysterium would end

the material world and usher in a new spiritual epoch. The Parisian score manuscript of Prometheus

ends with Scriabin’s annotations “inferno, the whole world engulfed,” “cataclysm, all in fire.”

Robotics and LED technology can bring a performance of Prometheus closer to Scriabin’s

vision than ever before, allowing the lights to counterpoint the music with unprecedented precision.

Yet, staging Prometheus also generates questions related to the performance of an imaginary work.

First, is a real-time representation of the harmonic rhythm and formal trajectory of the work visually

interesting? Can analysis be performance? Second, because Scriabin designed a lighting display far in

advance of his times, the very fact that his annotations are now possible somewhat diminishes the

spirit of their imagined impact. Prometheus embeds a peculiarly modernist paradox: it was a vision of

the future, so only in the future can an “authentic” performance of the work be realized—a

statement perhaps as true today as it was a century ago.

2
SCRIABIN AND THE POSSIBLE

WORKS CITED

Blavatsky, Helena. 1888. The Secret Doctrine, The Synthesis of Science, Religion, and Philosophy. Two
volumes. London: The Theosophical Publishing Company.
Cook, Nicholas. 2000. Analysing Musical Multimedia. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Sabaneev, Leonid. 2000. оспоминания о крябине [Memories of Scriabin]. Moscow: Classika-
XXI.
_____. “рометей [Prometheus].” 1910. Muzyka 1/27: 6-10.
Morrison, Simon. 1998. “Skryabin and the Impossible.” Journal of the American Musicological Society
51/2: 283-330.

EXAMPLES

Example 1. Reconstructed musical color circle from Scriabin’s “Table of colors” in the “Parisian
score” manuscript of Prometheus, op. 60

3
Example 2. Reduced score of Prometheus, op. 60, mm. 13-21. The fast luce voice outlines an F#-A-C-Eb m3 cycle in the fundamental bass
while the slow luce holds F#.

Example 3: The slow luce part in roughly temporal proportion.


Victoria the Progressive: The Cadential Formula as Historical Nexus

Tomás Luis de Victoria has been overshadowed in scholarly discourse both by the more

conservative Palestrina and by the more radical Florentine Camerata. This paper will use Victoria’s

Officium Defunctorum (1603) to exemplify some previously-unexplored connections between prima

pratica and seconda pratica music. While the seconda pratica1 is usually characterized by its free treatment

of dissonance, Victoria’s music is considered conservative, even mystical, exemplifying the earlier

polyphonic style codified by Zarlino (1558).2 This paper will not contradict these claims, but will

show how Victoria’s cadential elaborations position his music as a link between the two styles. I will

demonstrate that Victoria’s cadential formulae are typically as elaborate as those in Jacopo Peri’s

Euridice (1600),3 if not more so, and that the cadence serves as a meeting point between the more

progressive side of the prima pratica and the more traditional side of the seconda pratica.

Example 1 shows two G cadences,4 each based on the figured-bass pattern 3-4-4-3.5 The

only structural difference between them is the placement of B-flat: in example 1a, it creates an

“augmented” sonority on the downbeat, whereas in example 1b it appears as part of a 6/4 sonority

on beat two. Surprisingly, 1a is taken from Victoria’s work, and 1b from Peri’s. The B-flat in 1a, the

only “madrigalism” in either cadence,6 comes from the prima pratica work, and the gentler cadence

1
As presented in classroom texts; see, for example, Burkholder 2010 (297-98), or Palisca 1991

(30ff.).
2
See Atlas 1998 (613-15), Reese 1959 (608), and Cramer (1990).
3
I have chosen Peri’s work for comparison because it typifies the seconda pratica style.
4
For comparison, I have normalized the texture and omitted the text.
5
See Arnold (1964, 40-41) for a discussion of this figure.
6
The sonority appears under the word “flentium” (weeping).
from the seconda pratica work. Nor is this an isolated instance: example 2 shows the most lavishly

elaborated version of the same pattern from Victoria’s work, with its ornamented suspension and

poignant 6/5 sonority on the fourth beat of the second bar. By contrast, the most elaborate version

of the figure from Euridice is given in example 3. It contains the same 6/5 sonority as Victoria’s

example, but uses none of the same rhythmic complexity or the extravagant ornamentation. Again,

Peri’s use of the cadential figure is much tamer than Victoria’s.

This paper will compare several instances of this cadential figure, both to the composer’s

typical style and to the other style in question, with an aim towards a stylistic generalization:

Victoria’s work, with its more homogeneous texture, elaborates the figure in order that its

heightened expressivity might more clearly mark its cadences. Conversely, Peri uses the same figure

to better mark his own cadences by their lack of expressivity (compared to the rest of the work’s

style). Thus, as the title suggests, the paper will define the early seventeenth-century cadence as a

historical nexus, a meeting point between the most progressive features of the sixteenth century and

the most conservative aspects of the seventeenth.


Examples

Victoria, Officium defunctorum, Graduale mm.26-28.

Peri, Euridice, Scene II, mm. 404-6.


Selected Bibliography

Arnold, F. T. 1965. The Art of Accompaniment from a Thorough-bass as practiced in the XVIIth & XVIIIth

Centuries. New York: Dover Publications.

Atlas, Allan. 1998. Renaissance Music. New York and London: W. W. Norton & Co.

Burkholder, J. Peter, Donald Jay Grout, and Claude V. Palisca. 2010. A History of Western Music, 8th

ed. New York and London: W. W. Norton & Co.

Cramer, Eugene. 1990. “Some Elements of the Early Baroque in the Music of Victoria,” in De

Musica Hispana et Aliis, v. 1 (Universidade de Santiago de Compostela), 501-38.

______. 2001. Studies in the Music of Tomás Luis de Victoria. Burlington, VT: Ashgate.

Hirschl, Walter. 1933. The Styles of Victoria and Palestrina: A Comparative Study, with Special Reference to

Dissonance Treatment. Ph.D. diss., Univ. of California, Berekeley.

Kriewald, James A. 1968. The Contrapuntal and harmonic Style of Tomás Luis de Victoria. Ph.D. diss.,

Univ. of Wisconsin.

O’Regan, Noel. 1994. “Victoria, Soto, and the Spanish Archconfraternity of the Resurrection in

Rome.” Early Music 22/2 (May): 279-295.

Palisca, Claude. 1991. Baroque Music, 3rd ed. Prentice-Hall History of Music Series, H. Wiley

Hitchcock, ed. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice-Hall.

Peri, Jacopo. [1600] 1981. Euridice: An Opera in One Act, Five Scenes. Recent Researches in the Music
of the Baroque Era, vols. 36-37, edited by Howard Mayer Brown. Madison, WI: A-R
editions.

Rubio, Samuel. 2000. Tomás Luis de Victoria: Officium Defunctorum. Ávila: Caja de ahorros de avila.
Young, Edward. 1942. The Contrapuntal Practices of Victoria. Ph.D. diss., Univ. of Rochester.

Zarlino, Gioseffo. [1558] 1983. The Art of Counterpoint: Part III of Le istitutioni harmoniche. Trans. Guy

A. Marco and Claude Palisca.New York: Da Capo Press.


"The Role of the Producer in Hip-Hop: An Ethnographic and Analytical Study of
Remixes"
Analytical publications on hip-hop have usually focused on the rapper's skill

while overlooking the producer's contribution, leading to a misunderstanding of the

creative process in hip-hop. A case in point is Kyle Adams' article analyzing hip-hop

tracks. Adams makes the erroneous assumption that a completed musical track is given to

the rapper, who records on top of it. He therefore concludes that the music is "pre-

composed" and credits all text-music interaction to the rapper's skill.

In contrast, the 60 rappers and hip-hop producers I have interviewed say that the

rapper receives a simplified track, upon which he/she improvises. As producer Pete Rock

explains: "To start, I give them the beat, Plain Jane as it is. Too much sound would throw

them off." This "plain beat" is a drum track and a few other rhythmic elements, emptied

to provide ample space for the rapper to vary his/her vocal rhythms. The producer and

rapper then test the combination in the studio, after which the producer refines the track:

"It's like baking a cake—I wait for the cake to cool, and then I add the frosting." This

"frosting" includes horns, scratches, and other sounds added—or deleted—to emphasize

the rapper's words and adjustments to the drum track to coincide with the rapper's

rhythm. Producers also adjust the track's key to fit the rapper's pitch contour, as DJ

Kentaro did with the Pharcyde. Hence, many of the musical aspects of rap are likely the

handiwork of the producer instead of the rapper. The producer's imprint is even stronger

today, as ProTools has given producers the ability to edit iteratively at low cost.

Given the lack of manuscripts, ethnography is among the few avenues to

understanding the creative process in hip-hop. Many hip-hop artists have not had formal

training in music and are not bound by the aesthetic standards of most Western music,

such as metric consistency or absolute pitch. The producer's edits are deliberate aesthetic

1
"The Role of the Producer in Hip-Hop: An Ethnographic and Analytical Study of
Remixes"
responses, illuminating what combinations of sounds—rhythms, instrumental loops, and

vocal declamations—are valued by the hip-hop audience.

My paper shows the central role of the producer in hip-hop recording by

combining ethnography and musical analysis. I first describe the creative process through

quotes from my interviews with artists including Pete Rock and DJ Krush, combined with

musical examples. I then illustrate the musical contribution of producers through an

analytical comparison between the 1995 and 2006 versions of "Only the Strong Survive"

by CL Smooth and DJ Krush. Smooth's rap consistently hits the first sixteenth note of

beats 2 and 4 on a stress accent (capitalized, Example 1), coinciding with the snare drum

in the 1995 version (Example 2, "down," "take"); meanwhile his syncopated delivery

("for my crown") fits with the bass line. In 2006, when Krush fitted CL Smooth's vocal

track to a completely different accompaniment, he noticed a pervasive triplet pattern in

Smooth's rap; his refashioned drum pattern matches and complements Smooth's rhythms

(Example 3). Through analysis, I demonstrate that the hip-hop track ends not with the

rapper, but with the editing producer; through my interviews, I demonstrate the value of

ethnography in the analysis of popular music.

2
"The Role of the Producer in Hip-Hop: An Ethnographic and Analytical Study of
Remixes": Examples
Example 1 presents Smooth's rap, with each row representing a measure in 4/4,
each box representing one beat, an "x" representing a spoken 16th-note pulse, and a "-" a
silent or held pulse. Stress accents are written in capital letters, with rhymes and
assonances in italics. While Smooth places his rhymes in ever-changing positions (e.g.,
"losers," "prisoners," and "maneuvers" on beats 4, 1, and 3 respectively), he consistently
hits the first sixteenth note of beats 2 and 4, on a stress accent.

Example 1: "Only the Strong Survive" (1995), layout of CL Smooth's rap


"The Role of the Producer in Hip-Hop: An Ethnographic and Analytical Study of
Remixes": Examples
Example 2: "Only the Strong Survive," 1995 version, m. 6

Example 3: "Only the Strong Survive," 2006 version, mm. 3–4


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FormFucntionsandRetropectiveReinterpretation2

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FormFucntionsandRetropectiveReinterpretation3

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Ex. 2. Form-Functional Analysis of mm. 1-32


FormFucntionsandRetropectiveReinterpretation4


Ex. 3. Normative Recomposition of mm. 1-9


šͶǤ˜‡”˜‹‡™‘ˆǤ͸ͲǦ͹ͻ


FormFucntionsandRetropectiveReinterpretation5

šǤͷǤ ‘”Ǧ —…–‹‘ƒŽƒŽ›•‹•‘ˆǤ͸ͲǦ͹ͻ


Metric Dissonance in the Scherzo of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony

As Williamson (2007) observes, the voluminous literature on Mahler’s symphonies

includes surprisingly little close analysis. There are, of course, well-known exceptions such as

full-scale studies of the Sixth and Ninth Symphonies by Samuels (1995) and Lewis (1984)

respectively. Most recently, the rotational element of sonata form emphasized by Hepokoski and

Darcy (2006) has spurred a re-evaluation of Mahler’s handling of this form, as in Darcy (2001),

Kaplan (2005), Marvin (2009), and especially Monahan (2008). The extant analytic writings on

Mahler’s symphonies tend to emphasize tonal structure (esp. associative key relationships) and

formal design (esp. sonata form); most comment extensively on inter-movement connection, a

feature much contemplated by Mahler himself. The upsurge in rhythmic-metric analysis during

the past two decades has not yet extended into Mahler scholarship. This is particularly striking

given the centrality of rhythm to hermeneutic studies that rely on accurate identification of the

dance topics Mahler deploys and distorts (see, for instance, the discussions of the scherzo from

the Ninth Symphony in Draughon [2003] and Newcomb [1992 and 1997]). Mahler’s music is not

without rhythmic-metric complexity, and nowhere is this more apparent than in the massive

scherzo of the Fifth Symphony.

The first of the Fifth’s movements to be composed, the scherzo Mahler likened to a

“comet’s tail” for Natalie Bauer-Lechner (1980: 173), and he lamented the movement was

“enormously difficult to work out,” a sentiment shared by reviewers of its earliest performances.

In part, the difficulty arises from the pervasively contrapuntal texture—celebrated by Adorno

(1992: 102–103)—but rhythmic-metric factors contribute substantially. A glance at the opening

phrase, shown in Example 1, reveals weak D3+1 dissonance in the horns, a delayed initial

hyperdownbeat, and D3+1 at a hypermetric level. Although hemiola is commonly referred to as

metric dissonance, the strong G3/2 dissonances in mm. 6–9 and 12–13 actually counteract the
initial destabilizing elements. Cooke (1982: 101–102) notes that Mahler follows this 12-measure

phrase with 11- and 13-measure variations. Such manipulations, however, are characteristic of

the entire movement; despite its expressive contrast, the graceful Trio I begins analogously with

phrases of 8, 7, and 9 measures. Example 2 provides a further illustration of the movement’s

language; observe the different hypermetric reinterpretations of the arrivals on #VI (mm. 66 and

83), compression of the original theme (mm. 67–72), and displacement dissonances of varying

types and strengths (mm. 73–81).

This paper will identify the principal rhythmic-metric features that contribute to the

scherzo’s “comet-like” energy and changeability. It will then outline a metric narrative for the

movement: a progression through increasingly intense conflicts as thematic materials are

combined, followed by a progression towards more periodic surface hypermeter and somewhat

lesser metric dissonance in the movement’s later sections. This metric narrative suggests that the

scherzo remains a site of considerable unrest—as posited by writers including Mitchell (1999:

300–307) and Hefling (2007: 114–117)—and does not constitute an abrupt and complete

rejection of the turmoil of the preceding movements as interpreted by Cooke (1988: 82). More

broadly, close rhythmic-metric analysis offers a new perspective on Mahler’s ability to fuse

sharply contrasting dance-inspired melodies into a sweeping, almost overwhelming, symphonic

movement.

Mahler, p. 2
Bibliography
Adorno, Theodor W. [1971] 1992. Mahler: A Musical Physiognomy. Trans. Edmund Jephcott.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Bauer-Lechner, Natalie. 1980. Recollections of Gustav Mahler. Trans. Dika Newlin. Ed. and
annotated by Peter Franklin. London: Faber & Faber.
Cooke, Deryck. 1982. “Mahler’s Melodic Thinking.” In Vindications: Essays on Romantic
Music, 95–107. London: Faber & Faber.
________. 1988. Gustav Mahler: An Introduction to his Music. 2d ed. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Darcy, Warren. 2001. “Rotational Form, Teleological Genesis, and Fantasy-Projection in the
Slow Movement of Mahler’s Sixth Symphony.” 19th-Century Music 25/1: 49–74.
Draughon, Francesca. 2003. “Dance of Decadence: Class, Gender, and Modernity in the Scherzo
of Mahler’s Ninth Symphony.” The Journal of Musicology, 20/3: 388–413.
Floros, Constantin. [1985] 1993. Gustav Mahler: The Symphonies. Trans. Vernon and Jutta
Wicker. Portland, OR: Amadeus.
Hefling, Stephen E. 2007. “From Wunderhorn to Rückert and the Middle-Period Symphonies.”
In The Cambridge Companion to Mahler, ed. Jeremy Barham, 108–127. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Hepokoski, James, and Warren Darcy. 2006. Elements of Sonata Theory: Norms, Types, and
Deformations in the Late-Eighteenth-Century Sonata. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Kaplan, Richard A. 2005. “Analytical Approaches: Multi-Stage Exposition in Mahler’s
Symphonies.” In Perspectives on Gustav Mahler, ed. Jeremy Barham, 219–233. Aldershot:
Ashgate.
Krebs, Harald. 1999. Fantasy Pieces: Metrical Dissonance in the Music of Robert Schumann.
New York: Oxford University Press.
Lewis, Christopher O. 1984. Tonal Coherence in Mahler’s Ninth Symphony. Ann Arbor, MI:
UMI Research Press.
Marvin, William. 2009. “Mahler’s Third Symphony and the Dismantling of Sonata Form.” In Keys
to the Drama: Nine Perspectives on Sonata Form, ed. Gordon Sly, 53–71. Farnham: Ashgate.
McClelland, Ryan. 2006. “Extended Upbeats in the Classical Minuet: Interactions with
Hypermeter and Phrase Structure.” Music Theory Spectrum 28/1: 23–56.
Mitchell, Donald. 1999. “Eternity or Nothingness? Mahler’s Fifth Symphony.” In The Mahler
Companion, ed. Donald Mitchell and Andrew Nicholson, 236–325. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Monahan, Seth. 2008. “Mahler’s Sonata Narratives.” Ph.D. diss., Yale University.
Newcomb, Anthony. 1992. “Narrative Archetypes and Mahler’s Ninth Symphony.” In Music and
Text: Critical Inquiries, ed. Steven Scher, 118–136. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
________. 1997. “Action and Agency in Mahler’s Ninth Symphony, Second Movement.” In
Music and Meaning, ed. Jenefer Robinson, 131–153. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Reilly, Edward R. 1997. “The Manuscripts of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony.” In New Sounds, New
Century: Mahler’s Fifth Symphony and the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, ed. Donald
Mitchell, 58–63. Amsterdam: Koninklijk Concertgebouworkest.
Samuels, Robert. 1995. Mahler’s Sixth Symphony: A Study in Musical Semiotics. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Williamson, John. 2007. “New Research Paths in Criticism, Analysis and Interpretation.” In The
Cambridge Companion to Mahler, ed. Jeremy Barham, 262–274. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Mahler, p. 3
Example 1. Mahler, Symphony No. 5, scherzo: rhythmic-metric features of mm. 1–15

Mahler, p. 4
Example 2. Mahler, Symphony No. 5, scherzo: rhythmic-metric features of mm. 62–83 (continues on next page)

Mahler, p. 5
Mahler, p. 6
Half Full, or Fully Half?: Distinguishing Half and Elided Authentic Cadences

Distinguishing between a half cadence and an authentic cadence is one of the first

things taught in music analysis classes. This should be an easy task, yet often it is not: at

times even seasoned scholars and performers disagree on whether something should be

considered an elided authentic cadence or a half cadence (Ex. 1).

Much of the problem derives from the ambiguous nature of the half cadence, in

which an unstable harmony ends a progression so that—in Schenkerian terms—it is

“closed off” from what follows. But how can an unresolved harmony serve as a satisfactory

endpoint? Surely there is almost always some connection between the V of a half cadence

and the tonic that begins the next phrase; in many cases a short bridge even links the half-

cadential V to the ensuing tonic. But how strong may such post-cadential filler be before it

should be regarded as a full-fledged part of the phrase, rather than simply a link (Ex. 2)?

In differentiating half and authentic cadences, one properly should consider three

interrelated factors: formal function (for example, one would more likely expect a half

rather than an elided authentic cadence to close a transition or development section);

demarcation in texture and rhythmic grouping (a strong demarcation more likely follows

the end of a phrase); and harmonic status (specifically, a half cadence is typically marked

by a root-position V triad, as opposed to an inverted V7). When these three features

coincide, it often is obvious whether a half or authentic cadence is present. However, one

should always be prepared to come across non-normative situations, or cases where these

parameters are unclear or in conflict with one another.

For instance, ambiguities may arise when an expected formal cadence is weakly

demarcated (as in Exx. 2 and 3a); when a strongly demarcated formal segment concludes
“Half Full, or Fully Half?: Examples page 2

with an inverted V7 (3b); or when the point of demarcation is debatable (3c). Such passages

frequently give rise to disagreements regarding cadential status, in turn leading to broader

analytic disputes concerning large-scale formal design and voice-leading (Ex. 4).

The distinction between half and elided authentic cadences need not be regarded as

an either/or situation, however. On the contrary, admitting a degree of fuzziness in

determining cadential status—as well in determining “closed off” status—often allows for

a richer and more nuanced understanding of the various analytic and performance

possibilities. In my presentation I will explore the criteria used to distinguish half and

elided authentic cadences; examine selected excerpts whose cadences have inspired

contrasting interpretations by distinguished scholars and performers; reconsider some more

flexible approaches to cadences offered by earlier theorists (such as Anton Reicha); and

discuss the pedagogical and performance implications that accrue from a more fluid

approach to dealing with cadences. As I shall argue, such a flexible understanding of

cadences encourages a re-evaluation of certain central aspects of various modern

approaches to form and voice leading.


Half Full, or Fully Half? Examples

Example 1. Passages in which analysts and performers interpret cadential status differently.

(a) Mozart, Sonata for Piano in A Minor, K. 310, I, bars 1–10: HC in bar 8 or IAC in bar 9?

(b) Mozart, Sonata for Piano in C Major, K. 309, I, bars 1–9: HC in bar 7 or PAC in bar 8?

Example 2. Beethoven, Concerto for Piano and Orchestra in G Major, Op. 58, I, bars 243–253.
“Half Full, or Fully Half?: Examples page 2

Example 3. Ambiguous situations.

(a) Beethoven, Trio for Piano and Strings in G, Op. 1, No. 2, bars 91–101 (HC or elided PAC?).

(b) Haydn, Symphony No. 54 in G, IV, bars 98–104 (HC on inverted V7, or not?).

(c) Haydn, Symphony No. 5, II, bars 28–33 (where is phrase demarcation?).
“Half Full, or Fully Half?: Examples page 3

Example 4. Selected cases where different interpretations of cadences lead to drastically different
formal and/or voice-leading interpretations.

(a) Beethoven, Concerto for Piano and Orchestra in G Major, Op. 58, I (cf. Ex. 2).

(b) Haydn, Symphony No. 5, II (cf. Ex. 3c).

or ?

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