Tuning: What it is and How it Affects Performance

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): ** - ***

If you have a friend who plays the guitar, you have probably heard him/her mention before he/she begins to play that he/she needs a second to "tune".  You have probably heard of someone "tuning" the piano before.  As well as maybe a singer talking about singing "in tune", their "intonation", or, more likely, complaining about someone being "out of tune".  In these instance, the one speaking is clearly not talking about a "tune" in terms of "that jaunty tune we listened to last week", but rather something more specific having to do with the quality of the music.  Let us talk then about what all that actually means.

Intonation is the basic concept, from which we get ideas like being In Tune, Out Of Tune, Tuning, and so forth.  Intonation, in its most general form, is the relationship of two sounding notes to each other.  Most people who are not musicians think of notes like they are on the piano.  There is a C and a D.  Also one between them that's smaller and black and it is called a C# or a Db.  But that is the smallest interval; there is nothing between a C and a C#.  This is wrong.  In the general tuning system of classical music, each note is separated by 100 Cents (not money, but a very tiny musical interval), and these minute differences are very much utilized.

Imagine, if you will, that you are cooking and you need some of a stick of butter.  The recipe might say "3 tablespoons".  So you cut off three tablespoons and use it, and everything is wonderful.  But no one forced you to cut there, where the printed lines indicate three tablespoons.  You only did that because the recipe requested 3 tablespoons.  You might really like butter and so cut it a little past that line, or might be watching your weight and so cut a little less, but you do not want to mess up the recipe completely because you are not a master chef and are worried that you might mess it all up, so you do not go as far as cutting a full four or down to two tablespoons.

This is the basis for intonation.  In music, we have (mostly) defined each of the notes to be an exact frequency.  The A located above the middle C, often referred to specifically as A440, is defined to occur exactly at a frequency of 440 Hz... in the USA and the UK.  Elsewhere, especially in mainland Europe, 442 Hz and 443 Hz are used.  And that is only for modern intonation.  Classical music (the time/music period) is generally agreed to be tuned to A at 330 Hz, while Baroque music is either generally agreed to be tuned to A at 415 Hz or sometimes A 466 Hz.  Clearly then, there is no "universal A"; the A that, when played, is always the in tune, perfect, correct, the be all end all of As to ever be sounded.

So what is important then becomes the concept of Tuning and being In Tune.  Orchestras tune to the oboe player at the beginning of the concert, the oboe player having already tuned him/herself to A440.  That means that the oboe player has taken his/her instrument played it with some sort of tuning device on hand that has an A 440 preset to match the pitch of the A on his/her instrument with that exactly.  The rest of the orchestra then does the same with their instruments, insuring that every time they strike an A where they consider the A to lie on their instrument, it rings at the exact pitch of the oboe player's A, the A440.  This is Tuning.  Making the minor adjustments on the physical instrument itself, whether that means moving a tuning slide, tightening or loosening a string or readjusting the mouthpiece.

Then we have the concept of being In Tune or Out Of Tune.  This can pertain to two different things:  multiple musicians playing at the same time and making sure that the distances between each notes in the melody that each musician plays are the correct distance apart.  When a musician plays an instrument, with the exception of a piano and other select fixed pitch instruments, the pitch of the "A", for example, on their instrument can vary very easily.  Thus when multiple musicians are playing the same note, they must listen to the exact pitch each one is playing to match it as closely as possible.  This is important because it makes it all sound prettier and results in a finer performance in the same way that a luxury car works better than a generic sedan because the parts are all manufactured with a higher degree of precision and quality.

In order to properly tune, it must then be understood the proper distance between each note.  Harmonically speaking, there are naturally resonating harmonics that sound "good" together.  Things like Thirds, Fourths, and Fifths sound pleasant to the ear.  These are tuned to the main note in the scale, e.g. the C when in C Major.  So the G above the C should be a certain distance away.  This method of tuning each note in the chromatic scale in its natural and perfect relation to the base note is called Just Intonation.  The problem we arrive at with just intonation, is that when all is said and done, and tuned perfectly to the C, we have unequal distances between each successive note.

If you recall from music theory, the distance between a C and a G is the exact same distance as between a D and an A.  However, because of their relationship to the C, while the C and G interval sounds perfect when played together, the D and A interval does not.  It is flattened by about 1/5th of a half step, and as such would not sound as well together.  This is not as much of an issue for instruments like a violin or voice which can make adjustments for intonation on the fly, but for fixed instruments, like a piano, tuning is an ordeal making adjustments for intonation in the middle of a piece impossible.  If the piece is short, and stays in C Major the entire time, it should still sound fine.  But pieces can be quite long, and very regularly employ key changes which take them to any manner of different keys, which, when the piano is tuned to C Major, would make the piece sound worse and worse the further you get from C Major, to the point where a nice melody in F# major would sound horrible and you would want to cover your ears.

In order to solve this issue, musicians came up with the idea of Equal Temperament.  The one used in Western music (most all Classical and Pop music would fall into this category) is the 12 tone system, or 12ET for short.  In this system, each semitone is exactly the same distance from each other.  So the distance between the C and the C# is exactly the same as the distance between the Gb and the G, and holds true over larger intervals as well, such as D to A is equivalent to Bb to F.  The downside to this is that intervals are not as pure as with just intonation; a fifth tuned justly will sound superior to a fifth tuned in equal temperament.  (There was a system using 19 equal tones that was prevalent during the Renaissance period, as well as it has made a very slight resurgence in the last thirty years, which does some things better than the 12 tone system and some things worse.  It is fun to investigate if you are interested, but it is not generally practical at this point in time.)

But equal temperament is VERY CLOSE, which is why it is used.  Just sounds better than equal, but equal is FAR more freeing than just.  In equal temperament, everything is, as it sounds, equal.  You can start in C Major, and change keys dozens of times, getting all the way to F# major, and that key will still sound EXACTLY as good as C Major did, whereas that same piece played on a justly tuned piano would sound horrible, as mentioned above.  This then leads to a second notion of being In Tune.  Tuning not only to the other musicians with whom one is playing, but also making certain that when one plays a G following a C, that that G is of a proper distance above that C and thus each successive note must relate to the ones preceding it.

Given all of that, then, a musician has multiple things to consider when performing music.  Because musicians want the music to sound as good as possible, when playing a non fixed pitch instrument, they will endeavour to make the necessary adjustments, playing the Major 3rd a little flat in Major triad because that is closer to the Just Intonation.  These relationships change constantly though.  Whether a particular note, say an A, is played as part of an A Minor triad in C Major, later in the piece as part of a D Major triad while in the key of A Major, or later still as a suspended 4th tone from the previous triad over an inverted E Major triad before a V - I cadence in the key of E Major, the musician will make the necessary adjustments to make it sound as beautiful as possible, given the circumstances.  As a piano is a fixed pitch instrument, if playing the same melodic line as a piano, the musician would want to tune to the piano, while if the same note is not being played, the musician would want to tune as justly as possible, while not creating awkward intervals for him/herself in their own melodic line.  Add to that the even further thought that musicians can also choose to play a line just slightly a little out of tune in order to further add to the emotion behind the piece, and one can see that "intonation" and the concept of being "in tune" is a very large one.

This has gone on a little longer than I had intended, so I will end by saying that mean tone temperament, while not as perfect as just intonation, was a great achievement, as it finally allowed performers to play pieces in vastly different keys directly after each other and they would all sound good, something that was impossible with just intonation.  For a good example of this, I would suggest listening to Johann Sebastian Bach's "Well-Tempered Klavier" (also spelled Clavier), which, as the name suggests, is written in celebration of this tuning system.  There are any number of performances which are fantastic, though my favourite was recorded by Angela Hewitt.

What to call the Music: Piece vs. Song/Tune

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): *

There is a certain amount of vocabulary that comes with everything.  An IT tech will likely use words like "network" or "password" on a daily basis on the job, while a grocer will use words like "turkey" and "apples" on their job.  The same holds true for social events or free time activities.  Someone who loves attending movies or watching TV might talk about the "actors/actresses" or the "director" while someone who loves to bowl might discuss the "pin action".  As one goes further and further into any one topic, the vocabulary eventually arrives at a point where only the well initiated truly will be able to follow the conversation.

This is news to no one.  In fact, this is often the case in sports, with on caveat:  sports are incredibly popular.  Here in the good old US of A, Football (American, that is) is the name of the game.  The Superbowl is so popular that pretty much nothing happens during the game excepting Superbowl parties.  Everyone can use fairly specific terminology like referring to the "tight end" or the "line of scrimmage" which you would only know if you have paid attention to this sport for at least a few games.  I, personally, know very little about American Football and do not care for sports in general (the only sport I somewhat follow is Tennis), and as such, I often sound like an idiot when in social situations when things like Football or Basketball are discussed, not to mention the fact that most people can name the best couple of players on each of the major teams.

I mention this because of a stigma that Classical music has achieved over the years.  Classical music has the stigma on it of being too "intelligent" or too "inaccessible" for the average person, and that people talking about it sound "pretentious".  I do not like this application of this word, pretentious.  Sure, when us classical aficionados discuss things like "sonata form" or the evolution of composition from Bach through Beethoven to Berg and the freeing of tonality in the Second Viennese School, if you do not know what those things mean or to what they are referring, it does sound confusing.  But to say that is pretentious is, in my opinion, rude.


A lot of this, as it stands, has to do with how people feel who do NOT know much about Classical music.  As I have stated above, I do not follow sports at all.  Why then, can I not consider it pretentious when someone comes up to me and starts talking about what X player on Y team can be doing when running a "screen play" (I may or may not know what that means) when near the "end zone"?  And it is not so much the fact that they ask me the questions, I am fine with that.  They like this sport, and things are happening which are exciting enough that they would like to discuss, and so they turn to me.  So I tell them that I know nothing about these sports and so they try to tell me enough about the situation that I may be able to follow the significance of their question.  I feel fine with myself for not knowing sports, and learning about it in this manner, hodgepodge like in random situations.

But if the question goes the other way around and I turn to someone and ask what they think about Sibelius's 5th Symphony, for example, the reaction is different.  Certainly I get the "I don't know much about Classical music" response.  But from there, if I start trying to explain my question, the person with whom I am talking often gets defensive.  As if they are thinking, "why should I have to know about this Classical music?" or "did I ASK you to teach me about this stuff?" while I am simply trying to have the same kind of conversation that they would be having with me about sports.  I did not ask for their question or instruction there, but I did not complain but instead welcomed the information.  Why should not the response be the same way?  Instead, the stuff I wish to discuss is "pretentious" because it is "unimportant" because Classical music is not popular.

That statement above may have gone on longer than I intended it to, but that is intended as a preamble to this:  what to call Classical music.  We call each work of music a Piece.  We do not, as a rule, call them songs or tunes or anything else like that.  Jazz musicians will sometimes call their music tunes or heads or charts, but we classical musicians like to use the word Piece.  No, we are NOT being pretentious.  We are just calling it what it is called.  We correct people who call a "piece" a "song" in the same way that my sister corrects me when I can say that the quarterback "threw" the ball that he instead "passed" the ball down field.  There is no reason to get emotional or feel anything other than you are learning something new.  I do not get upset when my sister tells me that I am using incorrect sports term, and yet people feel strongly about learning new music terms.  (Just to be thorough, there ARE specific instances where a given "piece" might be ALSO a "song", but it is still a "piece of classical music" but these are not incredibly common, particularly if you are talking about an orchestra performance.)

The reason for this is that each piece is something different.  It is unique.  As is each performance of each piece.  With most pop songs, you have the same artist performing the song.  Each time you hear "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", it is being performed by U2.  It is a U2 song, they sing it, it is theirs (by the way, I am a big fan of U2).  Even when it isn't being performed by U2, but instead by a cover band, usually their number one main goal is to make it sound as much exactly like it does when U2 sings it as their possibly can.  This is NOT the case with classical music.  Each and every performance is intended to sound like it sounds.  Each conductor makes his/her very own statement of what Beethoven's 5th Symphony should sound like.  What is more, that even changes with whichever orchestra they are conducting.  An interpretation by one conductor in front of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra might vastly differ from their interpretation in front of the St. Petersburg Philharmonic Orchestra.  Thus each piece is its own artistic statement in the same way that an artist who paints presents a piece and not just another painting, even if it is just of another landscape.

Recommended Listening: Respighi's "Pines of Rome"

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): **

Ottorino Respighi was born in Bologna, Italy and was taught to play the violin and the piano by his father, a piano teacher, from a young age.  He went on to study the viola in addition to the violin and piano as well as composition from Giuseppe Martucci.  He received his diploma in violin in 1899 and from there proceeded to play as concertmaster for the orchestra of the Russian Imperial Theatre in St. Petersburg.  While there he studied with the Russian composer Nikolai Andreyevich Rimsky-Korsakov.  He then returned to Bologna and received a diploma in composition, while still performing on the violin.  Starting around 1910, his compositions began to draw his attention, and those held his sway for the remainder of his life.  Though he never truly gave up performing fully, by about 1920 it can be said that he was a composer only.

All of that above is to say that he got a thorough education in all kinds of music, past and present, performing and writing.  I mention these things in particular because I think that a little knowledge of a person's past informs his/her writings (e.g. the knowledge of when someone like Thomas Mann lived helps to understand the themes in his writings).  I also mention this because of one of the great things about this piece:  its lush, gorgeous orchestration.

Orchestration is the instrumentation assigned for the performance of a given piece.  Take, for example, the song "Row, Row, Row Your Boat".  If you sing it by yourself, then it is for "solo voice".  If later you sing it with three other people in a round in two octaves, two at the top octave with girls, and two at the bottom octave with boys, you are singing it for "multiple voices" which would imply that your "solo voice" arrangement left off some of the more interesting harmonies and rhythmic interactions within the song.  Now let's say you switch up your "multiple voices" arrangement to be three girls and one boy.  Technically these three would all be the same song or piece, but they would be three different Arrangements or Orchestrations.

Generally speaking, a composer writes their music at the piano, because it is accessible and yet comprehensive.  With any number of grand operatic and symphonic works, the composer will compose all of the music at the piano, and then arrange it for orchestra, or larger ensemble.  While these two skills often go hand in hand, they are not necessarily so, and the composer will from time to time, not often, but still not rarely, will not be the same person who arranges it for orchestra.  This is EXTREMELY common in Hollywood for movie scores.  The composer whose name you see at the end of the movie and have heard before like John Williams or Hans Zimmer probably (I'd say a good 98% chance that they) did not orchestrate it.  The notes and rhythms go to the composer, but the person who put those melodies in the hands of the trumpets or violins was the arranger/orchestrator (whose name you don't see unless you carefully scan the credits).

In that first paragraph, you will notice that I mentioned that Respighi studied with Rimsky-Korsakov.  Known as a first rate operatic and symphonic composer in his own right, Rimsky-Korsakov is probably one of the greatest orchestraters of all time.  Arguments generally point to Maurice Ravel as the single greatest, and it might be nice to note that Ravel studied lengthily with Rimsky-Korsakov, and Ravel's orchestration of Modest Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition is one of the most famous examples of a different composer and arranger, as Mussorgsky wrote it as a piano solo and Ravel scored it for full orchestra.  Rimsky-Korsakov's text on orchestration is still highly regarded today and is one of the most complete and easy to use instructive manuals on orchestration.  Respighi certainly picked up something from him because his talent for orchestration can be found in all of his works, especially in the Roman Trilogy, of which the Pines of Rome is the second work (the other two are the Fountains of Rome and Roman Festivals).

The Pines of Rome (Pini di Roma) is a four movement Tone Poem.  A Tone Poem is essentially what it sounds like.  It attempts to evoke stories and images using music alone (i.e. no words).  Sometimes they will be written after and/or accompanying an actual poem or story (such as with "The Sorcerer's Apprentice") but just as often they will be written as an original piece.  This piece depicts the pine trees at different locations around Rome at different points of the day.  Generally speaking, this is classified as a Romantic piece, though it does push to the end of that period and could be considered Modern

I.  Pines of the Villa Borghese - describing children playing soldiers and marching among the trees
II.  Pines Near a Catacomb - a majestic dirge, depicting the depths and solemnity of the catacombs
III.  Pines of the Janiculum - a nocturne set on the Janiculum hill, featuring birds and forest life
IV.  Pines of the Appian Way - misty dawn as a legion of troops marches along the way with the ground trembling under the weight of the army

I recommend the recording done by Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.  It is in my opinion one of the greatest recordings of this and any orchestral work in general.  It can be found in many forms from LP to CD, to SACD, to digital download.  Well worth a listen and absolutely gorgeous sound.  The music itself is pretty popular as well, and it is very possible that you might have heard some or all of it previously.  Other recordings are of course quite solid as well, this one just happens to be my favourite.

Music Theory: Chords and Scales

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): *

So now that you know the basics to reading music, let's get into the basics behind the music itself.  The most basic foundation of music is either the Chord or the Scale, depending upon to whom it is you are speaking, but essentially that's like arguing whether the Hydrogen or the Oxygen is the foundation of the water molecule.  It really doesn't matter because the the water molecule functions as a whole using both interchangeably.

The word Chord literally derives from the Middle English word "accord" meaning "in agreement", as in, "these notes agree with each other".  This essentially means that they "sound good" together.  While, technically speaking, you could say that any two notes sounded simultaneously form a chord, most people will refer to a chord as having at least three notes.  A chord can have more notes, though most common chords will be comprised of three or four distinct notes.

A Scale, on the other hand, is a collection of notes which span the complete octave.  There can be anywhere from a few notes (e.g. five) to all twelve, though most common scales have seven distinct notes.  Generally these are arranged by pitch in lowest to highest, with the lowest note being the base note, or Tonic.  (This was covered in the previous post but is included here as a reminder.)

Chords are nice to use because they provide depth to the melody.  Hearing someone sing is nice.  Hearing someone sing while there's a piano playing behind them can help make the music to be more enjoyable and engaging (besides helping the singer not to feel so stressed about being the only musician actively performing).  Some notes sound good with other notes, some do not.  Chords help us to define which notes do and do not sound "good" with each other as well as what times to use what collection of notes.  These notes that might not sound "good" with each other as sustained notes are far from useless, as they can be used to propel the melody forward, leading it upwards or pushing it back down as the closeness of the notes in these chords can urge the music in either direction.

The scale is used to form chords; these are called Diatonic, literally and simply meaning, from the scale.  The melody is written primarily with notes from a scale, and thus the chords backing up the melody are taken from the same scale, making it all sound pretty.  As an example, let us again use the C Major Scale (C D E F G A B C).  The standard chord is formed by stacking three notes on top of each other in thirds, or every other note.  For example, the root chord for the C Major Scale is formed then by C, E and G.  You can then form chords that have a base note as each of these seven distinct notes in the scale, e.g. the chord based on the sixth note, the A, would be formed then by A, C and E.  These are then traditionally labelled by Roman numerals, one through seven, as indicated below, specifically this time being given again as an example in C Major.

                       C          D         E         F         G         A         B         C
                       I           ii         iii        IV        V         vi        vii^o       I

You will notice that the chords for C, F and G are listed with capital Roman numerals, while D, E and A have lowercase ones and B has lowercase numerals plus a superscript 'o'.  This denotes the quality of the chord.  The diatonic chords in the C Major scale built upon the notes C, F and G are Major Triads, which is defined by the distance between the first two notes being a major third (four half steps), and the distance between the second two notes as a minor third (three half steps).  The chords built on the notes D, E and A are Minor Triads, which reverses the major definition, with the distance between the first two notes being a minor third and the distance between the next two notes as a major third.  Lastly, we have the chord built upon the note B, which is a Diminished Triad, which is defined as having the distance between the first two notes as a minor third as well as the distance between the second two notes as a minor third.  These three types of triads, together with the Augmented Triad (formed by having the distance between the first two notes as a major third while the distance between the next two notes is also a major third), form the basis for most every chord (Triad and Chord can essentially be used interchangeably, with the word Triad simply more specifically indicating a chord comprised of exactly three notes, but you will hear both).

The most important chords in any key (i.e. scale), are the I or Tonic and the V or Dominant chords.  When a classical piece reaches the I chord at end of a phrase, you can tell.  It sounds like the "home" chord.  In a generic chord progression, the changing chords help to push the music further on and forward to which then the I/tonic chord brings what feels like a moment of peace after the push and pull of chords during the phrase.  The chord that you will see leading up to this phrase-ending tonic chord is nearly always the V/dominant chord, and quite often the chord before that one will be the ii chord.  This phrase ending pattern of V-I is generally referred to as a Perfect Cadence.


So when someone refers to something as a Key Change, what the music has accomplished at that point is the tonal shifting of the melody from that scale and set of chords (e.g. C Major) to another one (e.g. G Major), meaning that both the melody and the chords from that point on will generally now be taken from the G Major Scale.  This is almost always accomplished by using accidentals to stress the chords in a melody enough to push the chords to the point where the cadence then commences in the new key.  You can usually tell when a key change occurs because it will sound like the "home" note has gone up or down in pitch and it feels like something has shifted in the music.  Chords will be covered in further depth in later posts to be sure as this is just the very basis of how they interact.

Music Theory, the very Basics

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): *

In the future, I will post articles about classical music's evolution over time.  From Renaissance to Baroque to Classical on through Romantic and Modern and so forth.  To best talk about these changes, you need to be able to understand what I mean when I say something like "sonata form".  These concepts are not hard to follow however, they do require a basic understanding of music theory.  For those of you who know some music theory, this will be review, and I hope you will forgive the time spent.

First off, a definition.  Music Theory is, quite simply, the study of how music works.  It studies how composers achieve their results; why a classical symphony sounds different from a baroque concerto.  This is HEAVILY dependent (though not completely) upon the way music is written.  There are many customs to writing music, but the most predominately used method has been the one passed down in Western music (i.e. European).  This is the basic music staff and notes that you see everywhere.  This is what allows people who play music to play the music that others have written in the way that these words and letters are a way for you to read the words that I have written, or recite a soliloquy from a play that was written by Shakespeare, and so on and so forth.  It sounds basic, but it is absolutely essential, the bare bones and method of communication between people, in this case, musical communication, when not playing the instrument directly.

This is the music staff, a sample from a piece for piano.  This is the grand staff, i.e. the two together form the regular sheet music notation for piano pieces, with generally the top staff being for the right hand and the bottom for the left hand.  The top staff has the Treble Clef symbol at the front, then a flat symbol (looks like a small 'b') and then a 2 on top of a 4, while the bottom staff has the Bass Clef symbol in front of the flat symbol and the 2 on top of a 4.  The music staff is a series of 5 parallel lines.  Each line represents a note, as does each space.  This can be extended past the end of the staff via ledger lines above and below the staff, where each line and space between lines continues to represent a note; an example of this can be seen in the very first measure with the top note on the bottom staff.  The 2 on top of the 4 indicates that there are 2 beats in a measure (in dancing that would be two steps), and that the count of these two beats are delineated by quarter notes (this concept will be left here for the time being, but will all be discussed more in future posts).

The difference between Treble and Bass clefs is the octave in which the notes sound.  If you are not familiar, the first seven main notes in Western music you should learn are:  C D E F G A B, after which comes another C and they continue higher (similarly going in the reverse direction for going downward).  There are also an additional five notes that rest between these notes.  These notes all have two names.  A name reached by adding an Accidental, that would be a Sharp (#, which raises the pitch one half step) in front of one of the main notes, and a name reached by adding a Flat (b, which lowers the pitch one half step) in front of one of the main notes.  These notes are C#/Db  D#/Eb  F#/Gb  G#/Ab  A#/Bb.  The observant person will note that there is no E#/Fb or B#/Cb.  This is because these two notes are naturally one half step apart and thus modifying by a half step achieves the next fully named note, negating the need for the accidental.  These are the complete notes for every scale in Western music (for almost 1500 years).  Modern music can make use of notes between these twelve, but for simplicity's sake, assume that every note that you hear or see written is one of these twelve unless it is specifically mentioned otherwise and you would be right a good 99.9999% of the time (an estimated statistic, though it emphasizes the point).  There is also a symbol for a Natural (♮) which is simply a way of correcting the thought back to the regular note from the accidental, i.e. a B♮ is the same as a B, but might be used in conversation after talking about a bunch of notes that are Bb.

I have started with the letter C here instead of A (the natural beginning of the alphabet) because the C Major Scale is the single most basic building block of music.  A Scale is a series of notes which is essentially the basis for a piece of music.  This would be like saying that I have a pile of oak wood and all those blocks of oak wood is what I am going to be using to build my bookshelf.  I will use things like nails, and maybe some glue to get the job done, which would be other notes defined by accidentals, but in the end, the majority of my new bookshelf will be comprised of that oak wood.  There are many variations of scales, the most common being the Major Scale and the Minor Scale.  The C Major Scale is thus:  C D E F G A B C (it is generally the tradition when writing scales to reiterate the Tonic, i.e. the bottom/top note, though you can see it with the top C left off, in which case, you would always assume that the bottom note is the tonic and the note directly after the last note in the scale would be the tonic again).

On the music staff, each non-modified note, C D E ... B C, takes its place as is, with no accidentals.  Notes that are sharp or flat share the same line or space with another note, e.g. a B Flat appears on the same line as the B, thus the need for the flat symbol illustrating that a different note is to be played.  Given this, there are clearly multiples of each notes as well, two notes that are C that do not sound exactly the same.  These notes are separated by an Octave, that would be, they sound almost exactly the same except that one is higher in pitch than the other, but when you play them together, they still sound very good together and become almost indistinguishable from each other when done well.  The basis for keeping track of all these different notes then is determined by where on the staff they are.  The note C higher on the staff than another C will obviously sound higher and vice versa.  In the image above, as I mentioned, there are two staves (plural of staff), one with a Treble Clef and one with a Bass Clef.

As the words imply (in Italian), the Treble Clef is higher while the Bass Clef is lower.  The middle line in the Treble Clef is a B, while the middle line in the Bass Clef is a D.  Each successive line and space above and below those then are the next notes in either direction.  Thus the Treble Clef lines, from bottom to top are E G B D F, while the spaces are F A C E, and the Bass Clef lines from bottom to top are G B D F A, while its spaces are A C E G.  The two are related exactly by the note directly in the middle of them, the Middle C or C4 (not the explosive).  It is called this because, on the piano, it is the middle of the 7 Cs, or the 4th one from the bottom, with C1 then being the first note on the left hand side and C7 being the last one on the right hand side.  This Middle C (most refer to it that way, though I prefer C4) is located one the very next ledger line below the bottom of the Treble Clef staff and on the very next ledger line above the Bass Clef staff.  The observant person will note then that the very first note on top of the Bass Clef in the first measure of that example above is the D located in the space directly below the Treble Clef, thus being the exact same note as the D located there in the beginning of the 3rd measure, this time on the upper staff (a Measure simply delineates one section of written music from another for ease of reading, and is indicated by a solid line stretching from the bottom line of the staff to the top line of the staff, in this case, since the grand staff is used, it stretches from the bottom of the bottom staff to the top of the top staff, thus clearly indicating a total of four measures, separated by three different measure lines).

The quality of the Scale is determined by the relationship between each note in the scale.  Remember there are a total of twelve notes in western music, in order from C, bottom to top:  C C#/Db D D#/Eb E F F#/Gb G G#/Ab A A#/Bb B C, each of which is then the very next direct note, there are no regular notes that can be found between these (this is called the Chromatic Scale).  Given that then, the distance between any two of those successive notes in the chromatic scale is called a Half Step (e.g. C to Db or F to F#) while the distance between two notes in the situation of *note, skip one, note* from the chromatic scale is a Whole Step (e.g. G to A, skipping G#, or Bb to C, skipping B).  The two main scales that are regularly used as the basis for most music are the Major and Minor Scales.  These are called by their tonic note, i.e. the C Major Scale begins on a C.  This is also then called the Key, as in the piece is in the key of C, or C Major (when not stated, the assumption is major, minor or otherwise will always be stated).  From that note then, the Major Scale is constructed by then going up the following distances:  whole step (C - D), whole step (D - E), half step (E - F), whole step (F - G), whole step (G - A), whole step (A - B), half step (B - C), thus completing the scale.  The Minor Scale is constructed similarly, only starting on the 6th note of the major scale, e.g. the A Minor Scale:  whole step (A - B), half step (B - C), whole step (C - D), whole step (D - E), half step (E - F), whole step (F - G), whole step (G - A).  The observant person notices that in the major scale, the last note before the tonic again is separated by a half step, while in the minor scale it is a whole step.  This quirk of scales and other scales not listed here are a topics for further articles, as well as anything else you see on the example above not mentioned in this post such as those big curvy lines or the 'f' that appears in the middle of the two staves.

This is a lot of information for someone who has never seen it before or is not familiar with it.  To try and familiarize yourself with it if you do not play an instrument, my best recommendation would be to listen to music while watching the sheet music to the same piece.  Easy examples to start with would be some Mozart piano sonatas, as you can find a lot of them on youtube edited so that the sheet music on the image corresponds exactly to the music being played, as in this example:  Mozart, Piano Sonata No. 16 in C Major

Recommended Listening: Handel's "Music For the Royal Fireworks"

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): **

George Frideric Handel was born in Germany in 1685, but moved to England to study music early in his youth.  He was made citizen, dropped the German spelling to his name, became a court composer, and essentially can be viewed as a purely English composer, and is generally agreed to be the greatest of these.  He rose quickly in fame as a composer and ended up as a court composer for Prince George in 1710 who would go on to become King George I.  Handel proceeded to work in then a number of very high profile positions including working at the Royal Academy in London and later became court composer for King George II of England as well.

“Music For The Royal Fireworks” is one of the world’s most famous compositions of all time.  Written under commission from the Crown in 1749, it is famous for historical reasons as well as musical ones.  It was commissioned to celebrate the end of the War of Austrian Succession and the signing of the Treaty of Aix-La-Chapelle in 1748.  Handel wanted to call it an Overture (which instead is the title of the first movement), but the Crown, in a moment of social inspiration, decided to upscale the name as the prelude to a public celebration.

The public was quite excited for this performance, as Handel’s fame had already become legend through his many triumphs, among them “Water Music” in 1717 which King George I caused to be played three times over because of his love of the music, and the “Messiah” oratorio some years later in 1742.  King George II, building on this quite literally, had a brand new hall constructed for the musicians to perform this piece, along with the fireworks ceremony that he had planned to accompany the music.

Handel, however, was just too popular.  The musicians had been rehearsing in the Vauxhall Gardens, and six days before the concert, there was an open full rehearsal.  Over 12,000 people paid 2 and 6 (two shillings and six pence) to attend the rehearsal, causing a traffic jam the like of which had never been seen before that lasted for more than three hours and caused the collapse of the central archway of the newly-constructed London Bridge.  When the concert date arrived, the music was a rousing success, especially when compared to the fireworks which all but fizzled and died, not to mention a building catching fire from the few that actually went off.

Musically speaking, the piece was an oddity.  The original scoring called for twenty-four oboes, twelve bassoons, nine trumpets, nine horns, three sets of kettle-drums (timpani), and a “bunch” of side drums (snare drums).  This scoring is now almost never used, as performers use the full orchestral rescoring which Handel arranged after the initial performance.  The concept of a purely wind piece was odd enough in itself, but to add such an overabundance of hard to play and tune instruments caused even more interest to be shown in this piece.

Recommended recordings:  King's Consort and Robert King (might be difficult to find)
                                             Academy of Ancient Music and Christopher Hogwood

The recording by the King's Consort is the first recording ever to be made of the piece in its original 1749 scoring with all musicians present on period instruments.  The recording by the Academy of Ancient Music is also made using period instruments, though was made using the later full orchestral rescoring.  Both of these are fine recordings made by quality musicians and I enjoy both of them immensely.  There are any number of other recordings that you can find of these pieces, I recommend these two in particular because I know them well.  I cannot think of any recordings off the top of my head that I would advise against other than to say that any other arrangement of this music (e.g. for brass quintet, or piano 4 hands), while possibly interesting in its own right, is not recommended in this post as I would prefer to recommend your first experience with this music as being with either of the original scorings done by Handel himself.  I prefer recordings of period instruments over modern instruments, but either can successfully illustrate the grandeur and beauty of this music.

George Frideric Handel is also the first to hold a most prestigious distinction in the history of music, due to his popularity, which, if not certain before, was cemented by this piece, so that by the time he died in 1759, he was still as popular as ever.  This distinction is that Handel is the first truly Classical composer.  Not in terms of the musical period, which pretty much began in 1750 and which will be further discussed in future posts, but in terms of his compositions being classic (this idea mentioned in a previous post).

All music before and up to this time was written for a purpose.  With the exception of liturgical music, music was not performed after its initial run, much in the way that you generally cannot go see a movie in the theatre after the first six months or so of its release.  It was written, performed, attended, loved, and then discarded, as new pieces were written.  Handel’s fame and popularity prevented that in this case, though, and there are records of his music being performed ever year continuously from his appointment to the court of Prince George in 1710 through to this very day.  His music truly is “classic” even though it’s Baroque. 

Dynamic Contrast

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): *

One of the biggest differences between Classical and Popular music, in my opinion, is in the dynamic contrast.

Let's start off with a musical definition.  Dynamics are, simply put, the loudness or softness of a note.  This does NOT mean the volume setting on your stereo system.  This means the volume of one portion of the music relative to the volume of another portion of the music.  It is an intrinsic quality.  Certainly, you can put on a CD and play with the volume dial and make it sound super quiet or super loud regardless of what the musicians who recorded it were doing.  But that just changes your perception of it, it does change the dynamics of the music on the recording.  You are hearing dynamics when the music starts off quietly and slowly builds to a loud section without your having to touch the volume knob on the stereo.  Think about the THX logo at the opening of some movies how it starts off quietly and then grows to an incredibly loud volume.

Why should this matter?  Variety, as they say, is the spice of life, and this is why I think it matters.  It provides a different take on the same thing.  This is what makes a lot of popular music boring in my opinion.  Songs on the radio are all at about the same volume.  What is more, they pretty much tend to stay at that volume from the beginning of the song straight through the end of it.  You can find exceptions, true.  Like a few of the songs on the "Sgt. Pepper" album by the Beatles, or the song "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin both make notable use of dynamics.  But really, that's the point.  These songs are notable for their use of dynamics.  Songs by Christina Aguilera or Justin Bieber will start off at what I call a medium loud volume and continue there throughout.  Each verse and each refrain is at the same volume.  What's more, usually the relationship between the instruments holds steady, too.  The drums and lyrics are very easily heard while the guitar is usually a little more background except when the vocal rests so it can be clearly heard while usually providing a musical fill.

Classical music gives us a variety.  Certainly there are forms in use that, like popular music, bring back the same melodic line over and over.  But classical composers will switch things up on the audience.  There are markings in each performer's part instructing them when to play loudly or softly.  A musician might commonly see any of the following in his/her part:  p, f, mf, mp, ff, pp, fff or ppp.  p stands for piano (not the instrument), meaning quiet. f stands for forte meaning loud.  m stands for mezzo meaning medium, thus mp and mf would be the medium soft and loud dynamics between p and f.  More p's or f's simply means to go further in that direction (thus pppp would be softer than pp, fff louder than ff), but more than three is fairly rare.  These are all of course relative terms, so forte to one musician might mean something completely different to another.

What this means is that these musicians will use their own judgement, coupled with the artistic direction of the conductor, to determine how loudly to play any of their given passages.  So a melody in the violins might begin softly backing up the winds and then grow until it takes over, becoming prominent.  Conversely, the strings might start off loudly and on their own only to be overtaken later by the brass instruments.  There are essentially endless permutations as each instrument can perform simultaneously a distinct volume from the performer sitting to their left or right in addition to the parts where the ensemble as a whole will player quieter or louder.  This engages the audience member and brings him/her more into the music in a way that is not achieved with a static volume level.  This also means that no two performances that you hear will ever be exactly the same.  One night a musician might play a little louder than he/she did the previous evening.  While one musician in an orchestra might not make a large impact, there are tiny variations to each individual musician's output, sometimes affecting a great change in the whole ensemble, thus guaranteeing that each performance is a completely unique and engaging experience.

Now, to be fair, I have seen a number of popular musicians using noticeable dynamic shifts in performance.  But this does not even reach the halfway mark of people that I have seen, and I feel like I have seen some of the more musical performers.  In addition, this then still very rarely translates into noticeable dynamics on any studio recorded albums.

This might not sound very convincing written down like this, so I urge you to listen to a few examples.  Just listen, do not put it on as background music, but really focus on what you are hearing.  For comparison, I would suggest listening first to something like U2's "Vertigo" to hear a more static volume (for the record, I am a big fan of U2, so I mean this in the politest way possible), and follow that up with "Stairway to Heaven" noticing the dynamic shifts.  There are any infinite number of examples from the classical world, though the 1st or 5th movement(s) to Bela Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra would be a good beginning place for an illustration of dynamic contrast if you are not sure where to start.

Purchasing Recordings

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): * to ***

When purchasing recordings of a classical nature, there are a number of things to consider.  From the obvious (e.g. which piece by which composer) to the specific (e.g. this performer's earlier or later recording of the work).  Here are many different variables to consider when purchasing CDs, arranged from likelihood of importance to unimportance (import is first), and indeed some further down the line are essentially decided for you by virtue of availability and existence (and some of these variables will be discussed in depth in later posts, though summaries and helpful hints have been included below).

Note:  If you are in a CD store, you will also likely see recordings in which it does not look like English is the first language these were intended to see (e.g. most of the words look German on it).  Just try and muddle through as best you can; as far as these things go, if you think it means something, it probably means that (e.g. Tchaikovsky, as we normally see it, might be spelled Tschaikowsky; that's just how the Germans spell it, but you are in the right place).

Composer
Piece Title
Medium of Issue
Price
Ensemble/Performer
Conductor
Complete Piece vs. Suite/Selections
Publishing Edition of Piece 
Modern vs. Period Instruments
Studio vs. Live
Year Recorded

Composer:  This is the guy/gal who wrote the piece.  Whether you are purchasing this on your own or at the advice of a friend, you probably already know this name.  This is pretty simple, and I don't expect this to be a problem for you since you found this blog entry, but simply make sure this person's name (e.g. Beethoven), is on your purchase.  The one thing to mention is to pay attention to first and last names as some families have had a great impact on music (e.g. J. S. Bach and C. P. E. Bach, or L. Mozart and W. A. Mozart), so if you're getting this because you have said to yourself "I want to listen to some Mozart", just make sure you're getting the right Mozart (in this case, you're probably looking for W. A. Mozart).

Piece Title:  Again, not surprisingly, this is the name of the piece.  Again, you likely already know that you are looking for a specific piece (e.g. the 5th Symphony), and thus this should not present you with any sort of problem either.  If you do not know this (e.g. the person above who wants some Mozart but doesn't know much more than that), look around and see if you see the name of a particular piece on a number of recordings (popular ones include symphonies, e.g. Symphony No. 5 or Symphony No. 9), and that is probably a good place to start.

Medium of Issue:  This is again something about which you probably will not need too much information. In fact, by virtue of going to a particular store, you have already probably come close to determining what medium it will be.  This is simply whether you have gone to find a CD, a digital download, your traditional old LP records or whatever.  Most common these days are of course CDs and digital downloads, though you will see some SACDs, DVDs-Audio, LPs if you can find them (and are usually in a used store) and some DVDs or Blu-Rays of actual live performances.

Price:  This is what it costs, of course.  Damage to the wallet.  My least favourite aspect of buying anything.  You will rarely see anything free, except for the occasional digital download on special.  These will almost always be by some performer that no one has ever heard of.  Again, not to say that this is a horrible performance of the music, but it is essentially guaranteed that it is not going to be the greatest.

Ensemble/Performer:  This is information that you very well may or may not know.  If you are a fan of a particular artist (e.g. Yo-Yo Ma) or ensemble (e.g. London Philharmonic Orchestra), you will know to look for that name.  Elsewise, you may just know that you are looking for a specific piece (e.g. Beethoven's 5th Symphony) and more than that you do not know.  If you are simply looking for a recording of a specific piece, you might not even look this far down on the list because you have found the cheapest one there and are already halfway out of the door.  I would not necessarily recommend this, though I know your wallet might beg for it.

I would recommend purchasing a recording made by the more popular of classical performers if you are unsure.  If it is a solo piece (concerto or chamber work) this person would probably have a lot of recordings listed under their name (e.g. Yo-Yo Ma or Martha Argerich).  This is not to say that the recording by the person who has just one solo recording and it happens to be the piece for which you were looking is bad.  It very well might be the next standard for that piece.  However if you do not know much, and are looking for introductions into the music, this would be more of a gamble and could just as easily turn out to be a poor representation of this music.

If you are looking for ensemble works (e.g. full orchestra), you are probably going to want to go with an orchestra that has the name of one of the world's epic cities in it (e.g. Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Berlin Philharmonic, or London Symphony Orchestra), and they will probably have a quality performance inside.  The one caveat I would indicate here is to hesitate where ever you see the word "festival" (e.g. Berlin Festival Orchestra).  Again, not that this is necessarily a poor recording, it might be fantastic, but that these are generally ensembles thrown together by a bunch of musicians who happen to be in the same area at the same time during this city's whatever festival and made a recording together or a concert was recorded.  Due to the flexible and indeterminate nature of these ensembles, these are often really cheap for licensing fees, and end up being really cheap in the store.  However, these really do run the gambit from very poor to shockingly amazing as far as quality goes so you would really run a risk here unless you know for a fact that a specific recording is good.

Conductor:  This is the person whose artistic vision generally controls the performance recorded.  I would recommend to go with a name that you see on lots of recording around you if you're unfamiliar with conductors.  Names like Herbert Von Karajan, Daniel Barenboim, Zubin Mehta, Riccardo Chailly, Valery Gergiev, Sir Georg Solti, Claudio Abbado and James Levine are a just a few big name conductors out there.  You will find that there are definite differences in their recordings (e.g. I generally dislike those by Daniel Barenboim but really enjoy those by Riccardo Chailly), but each of these conductors (and others I have not listed here) have enjoyed popular and lengthy performing and recording careers.  You will also notice that these names tend to appear in front of and with other quality performers (e.g. Yo-Yo Ma, the Berlin Philharmonic).

One note would be that I like to find the recordings made with the composers of the pieces themselves at the conducting podium whenever possible (e.g. Aaron Copland conducting his own "Appalachian Spring").  This does not necessarily guarantee your favourite recording of the work, though you can pretty much bet that it will be a quality production, elsewise the conductor would not have allowed it to be mass produced, and I like to think (even if it is just my imagination, as it well may be) that maybe they were able to squeeze just a little more out of the orchestra for this recording since they know the piece so well, having written it themselves and said something maybe just a little deeper than other conductors might have done.  But this is speculation at best, and even so I have noticed that it does not always mean that that will be my favourite recording of a piece.


Complete Piece vs. Suite/Selections:  This is something that you may not know, especially if you are new to the classical world.  All it means when it says "suite" is that these are selections from a larger work (e.g. "Carmen Suite" from the opera "Carmen").  Often these have no vocals (e.g. if a suite from an opera), leave out smaller and/or incidental parts of the music (often in a ballet suite), and really just generally hit the high points and popular melodies from the complete work.  If your intent is to see whether you like the type and style of music, a suite would give you the general picture.  If you are really intent upon discovering the music, though, the complete work is almost always how it was initially intended by the composer and usually is more cohesive (there do exist pieces that are "suites" that ARE complete intended works in and of themselves, but these are not too common, and you would not be able to find any recording other than the "suite" anyway).

Publishing Edition of Piece: If you are here and you already were not sure that you understood the last two, stop reading, go find the recording that looks the best to you and be happy.  This gets specific enough to be for the aficionados.  This would be relevant for pieces like "Petrushka" by Igor Stravinsky, which was initially published in 1910 - 1911 and then revised in 1947.  There are some definite and distinct differences between the two editions of this piece, and it would interest the informed customer to know this information, however by and large the melodies et al would remain the same.

Modern vs. Period Instruments:  This is relevant to compositions of the classical period and earlier (theoretically you could argue for earlier romantic compositions, but you will be hard pressed to find them anyway).  Basically (and I will cover this one in particular in a later post) it just means were the instruments used in the recording modeled after instruments of the time that this piece was composed or the more modern ones that you will find in orchestras around the world.  This would not change the piece's composition at all, but will likely change how it sounds.  The simplest example to understand is the trumpet.  Baroque trumpets had no valves.  The modern ones do.  Their sound is very distinct from each other and yet both sound like a trumpet.  The baroque ones were incredibly limited in scope, though, so almost any piece composed in the last 150 years would be impossible on these instruments.

Studio vs. Live:  This is fairly obvious in meaning, was the recording done in a studio, or was it captured live from a concert?  Generally speaking, I prefer live concerts as they seem to have just that tiniest bit more energy and feeling behind them than you will find in studio recordings, but they bring other issues to the table, like a coughing man in the crowd or stage sounds (especially in opera recordings).  Again, this will give you a wider variation in quality, though I generally find that the quality in live recordings tends towards the better rather than worse than studio.  This is because most of the times these are performances specifically chosen out of a number of them of the same repertoire because of their excellence in quality.  Again, this is not a guarantee, but I am generally confident in the quality of a live performance recommendation, particularly if quality performers (as mentioned above) are involved.  Again, though, this is not to say that studio recordings are poor of quality, in fact, they are generally quite excellent, and do not run the risk of extraneous noises and so might be preferable for someone newly into the fold of classical music.

Year Recorded:  This is a minute detail again probably only relevant to the true connoisseurs of classical music, but artists (e.g. Martha Argerich) might record the same music more than once over their career, bringing a different level of artistic depth and/or nuance to their performance.  I hesitate greatly before saying whether you should prefer an earlier or later recording.  One recorded in the artist's youth might have vitality and technique that the older one does not, while at the same time, the recording made at the later time in the artist's life might bespeak a greater emotional depth of knowledge of the piece (though it could be the opposite, with the newer recording by the older artist as a sort of proof of him/herself that they are still a virile and vital voice in the musical scene).  Another reason for looking at the year the recording was made might be to notice changes over time in the orchestral performance.  Take a version of "The Rite of Spring" for example, which Stravinsky conducted himself for recording before he died versus a version recorded recently by the San Fransisco Symphony Orchestra.  Especially comparing mono to stereo to digital recordings can be interesting, too.  A novice in this area would probably prefer to go with a more recent recording, say made in the last 30 years (recording technology has been good enough for long enough that you probably would not notice the difference between one recorded 30 years ago and one recorded yesterday unless you knew what to look for).

Personal Preparation for your Concert

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): *

It is okay to do a little bit of research before your concert experience.  Put a little effort into it.  And right there, I probably lost some of you.  You're thinking, "this is supposed to be a fun concert experience, where I go and listen to music, why do I need to do any work?"  Don't think of it as work, though.  Think of it as familiarizing yourself with the activity.

Things that you probably go to already:  Basketball, Football or Baseball games.  The movie theater.  Other concerts of rock bands and pop artists.  The funny thing is that we do not always realize how much we know about each of those activities before we go there.  With sports, we probably know enough of the rules about how the game is played to know how and when to boo at the Referee/Umpire for making a bad call or when someone makes a particularly spectacular play.  Often, too, you're familiar with the team's history, know what they will or will not have to do to make it to the playoffs, and you probably know the names of some of the key players on the team.  When you actually go out to pay money to see a movie in the theater, you have almost certainly already seen a trailer for it, you might be familiar with the main story line (especially if it's a book adaptation), and probably have heard of most or all of the actors/actresses that are in the starring roles.  When you go to a concert by your favourite band, you already have their albums, probably have the words to many of their songs memorized, you can name the lead singer and maybe even some of the names of the other members of the band.

So when you go to a classical concert, shouldn't you know a little bit about what's going on there?  If you've never been to an orchestra concert before, maybe you thought that it would be just strings and didn't realize that there are woodwind and brass instruments that play, too.  Knowing more about the following things will probably help you to enjoy your concert experience more.  I will list some of the basic things that are good to know here below, but if you want to go further in depth than these, I would highly encourage it, and it can only add to your overall enjoyment of the concert.  It might even give you something to talk about to the other patrons who are attending the event with you, or the people you meet there.

The Composer(s):  Sometimes the concert will be all by the same composer (e.g. an all Beethoven program), sometimes, and more often, it will not.  Knowing who wrote the pieces that are going to be performed on the concert will be a good way to prepare yourself for the pieces.  Most easily, knowing the composer's name will help you determine when he/she lived and would then help you identify the probable era of music (Baroque, Classical, Romantic, Modern, etc...).  This is helpful because music from different eras can sound as different as a song by Metallica would sound from one by Justin Bieber, as there can be a larger or smaller orchestra, with more or fewer types of instruments performing, as well as different forms of composition that are used and knowing when a piece was written can often give a clue as to these things (earlier pieces are more likely to be performed by smaller ensembles with fewer distinct instruments).

The Types of Pieces:  On rare occasions, the concert will be just one massive work that spans an hour and a half or so, but on most concerts, you will have at least two or three different works, sometimes more, and I have listed the most common varieties of these below.
     A Symphony (e.g. Mozart's 40th) is usually a lengthy work, and probably gets its own half of the concert.  A classical symphony (i.e. an early symphony in the time span of symphony compositions) will probably be shorter than a romantic or a later symphony (e.g. most of Mozart's are around or under one half hour, and Mahler's 3rd is one of the massive hour and a half works).  It is best to familiarize yourself with the number and types of movements (typically four, though there is much variation in these).
     A Concerto (e.g.  Tchaikovsky's violin concerto) is a work for solo instrument(s) and ensemble (usually orchestra).  This will almost always be a special soloist brought in by the orchestra to perform this specific piece to showcase his/her virtuosity (so it wouldn't hurt to read up on the soloist as well).  It usually has three movements, a medium-fast, slow, and then fast.  Sometimes it might showcase multiple musicians (e.g. violin and cello), though they most commonly feature just the one.
     An Overture (e.g. Rossini's "The Barber of Seville") is a short symphonic work that usually is written to precede the performance of an opera/ballet/etc..., and many of these have become popular enough that they are performed in their own right, so knowing the general story behind that full work might help your enjoyment of the piece (though some overtures are just written as stand alone overtures, thus allowing you to imagine your own story).
     A Symphonic Poem (e.g. Strauss's Don Juan) can be short or long (10 minutes to an hour), and generally has a story to tell.  Sometimes they might go along with a specific poem or story (e.g. Dukas's "The Sorcerer's Apprentice"), but just as often they'll be a stand alone piece with no specific story (e.g. Strauss's "Alpinesymphony").  These again allows your imagination to run free (here, either imagining the young magician experimenting with his master's wares, or in the alps of Austria, experiencing a tumultuous day in the mountain terrain).
     Other types of works of which to be aware would be Ballets, Operas, Masses, Requiems and Oratorios.  Specific parts of these pieces are frequently performed by orchestras, and on occasion, the whole piece (though with a full Opera, you would want to be aware of that beforehand, as you probably had to buy tickets specifically from an opera company for that).

The Form of a Composition:  This often goes right along with the type of piece, and the movements of, for example, a Symphony or Concerto (which are forms in and of themselves) will often be simply titled with the type of form used. Knowing the form of composition used for piece again can help in forming expectations.  Knowing the difference between Sonata Form or a Rondo would help you to identify main or key melodies or motifs.  Other common forms include Theme and Variations, Fugues, Minuets and Waltzes (though this by no means covers all forms used).  These forms are used within movements and will almost never carry from the beginning to the end of a piece with multiple movements.  Knowledge of these is especially assistant with finding anchor points and ways to understand different sections of a piece or movement that approaches 20 minutes in length or longer as it can be easy to get lost amidst a long stretch of music.

The Orchestra:  Knowing what instruments that will be there on stage, and what sounds that they make may sound elementary, but it is helpful.  You may be an ace when it comes to identifying the sight and sound of a Piano.  You are also probably familiar with a Violin or a Cello by sight (by the way, when you're at the concert, pay attention the fact that there are two very distinct sections of violinists) and you certainly know what a Trumpet sounds like.  But maybe you're not sure what an Oboe looks and sounds like, and you might be surprised to learn not only that the English Horn and the French Horn probably won't be sitting next to each other, but also that they are completely different types of instruments (though this may not be as surprising when you consider the French and English history... ah, stories for another day).  You may be surprised to learn all the different instruments that a Percussion player might be asked to play.  Other relevant instruments that are good to know would be Violas, Basses, Trombones, Tubas, Clarinets, Flutes, Piccolos, Bassoons and Harps.  There's also that funny guy up front called the Conductor, and it might be nice to know what he's doing there.

Now, I don't list all of this because I think you have to go into concerts able to spit out a bunch of facts or have the pieces memorized in order to enjoy them.  Far from it.  I've gone to concerts where I know nothing about the piece coming up and had never heard any pieces by that composer before and came out the other side thinking that that was an amazing experience.  But if you think that you've got this concert ticket and you do not want to go the performance and be completely lost within five minutes, this is a great way to get started.  Maybe you can also find your favourite instrument, the one that you think sounds really cool, and try to listen to what they do through the pieces. If you want to listen to a clip of the pieces beforehand so you have things to listen for, youtube's probably got them.  Even if you've memorized the pieces, there are still new and wonderful things to hear at live concerts.  They are so much more engaging than listening to a CD.  I've been to performances of pieces that I have literally memorized from beginning to end and of which I have recordings that I deem to be the supreme, never to be surpassed recording of this piece, to find myself surprised and delighted with new and amazing parts of this piece.  A little knowledge can go a long way towards making your concert experience a great one.

Concert Etiquette

Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): *

So you have your orchestra ticket(s) now, and you're getting ready for the concert.  What do you wear, do you need to get there early, and what should you expect when you get there?

As a general statement, before you make assumptions about the atmosphere of orchestra concerts (the usual criticisms being "it feels too stuffy" or "why should I have to dress differently than I normally do?"), let's go over some basic knowledge.  First of all, whether you realize it or not, every event and place you go every single day has its own atmosphere and expectations.  You instinctively know to wear and behave differently if you're going to church or to the movies, or out to dinner on a date versus to the grocery store.  Even when you go to a concert of your favourite pop artist, let's say U2, you probably dress and behave differently.  You might wear your favourite U2 shirt, make sure you have cash on hand to get some new fan merchandise, and if you know anyone who's anyone in the business, maybe even try to see if you can get some of your fan memorabilia signed.  Try going to a department store wearing flip flops, a baggy pair of shorts and a T-shirt (with a few holes if you've got one).  Then go back there another time dressed up in a shirt and tie, with a nice pair of shoes, and a nice coat.  You will likely notice that even there, where customer service is key and employees know to treat everyone with respect, people will treat you differently depending upon your attire.  What you wear matters there, and why should it be any different anywhere else?

What to wear:  Going to an orchestra concert for most is seen as a "night on the town" and is thus treated to something a little on the nicer side of things.  Many other attendees will be going out to dinner either before or afterwards, and I do not mean to a McDonald's.  As such, you will see most people dressed up a bit.  It is very common to see men in ties, women in blouses and skirts or pants and you will see some in the polo shirt and khaki pants combo as well. You will also see the occasional sport coat and dress and maybe a few people in jeans, but these will be less frequent, and often the dress/suit combination are worn by the older crowd while the jeans are worn by students.  I have not seen the concert hall that turned a patron away because of what they are wearing, so you could theoretically wear whatever your heart desires, but like any setting, if you are wearing something unusual, people might look at you, because that's what we people sometimes do (unless you're in NYC or LA, then you might just be ignored, because they do that there, too).

  --Note: Most orchestras have two types of performances, Classical and Pops.  Classical performances can be identified as anything where a composer's name (e.g. Beethoven), a specific piece (e.g. "Scheherazade") or a particular soloist is given top billing (e.g. Yo-Yo Ma).  Pops performances usually are billed with an obvious Broadway and/or Pop artist reference (e.g. "The Music of ABBA" or "Hairspray! in Concert").  For the purposes of this blog, I am obviously going to be focusing on the Classical performances, though of course attendance at both type of concerts is an enjoyable experience.  I mention this here since the atmosphere and attire for the Pops concerts might be slightly more laid back, though most would still probably approach it as a "night on the town" and dress up a bit.

When to arrive:  With a pop artist concert, e.g. U2, you can often show up a few minutes late and it's no big deal at all.  Half the time, they will have an opening act of someone you barely know anyway so you're not phased that you've missed half of their set, because you want to hear the main event a little later.  This is NOT how you want to treat an orchestra concert.  Admittedly, the first piece on the program probably won't be the "main event", the piece that people have really come to see (unless the program is something like Mahler's 3rd symphony, or another piece that's so long that the entire program is just that one piece), it will likely be an overture or another shorter piece of some sort.  But even for this piece the audience will still be eagerly attentive for its performance.  Another issue with arriving late is that the doors will probably be held during the pieces, and you will likely not be able to get in until the end of the piece/movement.  There are moments to just about every piece of classical music where it is incredibly quiet and the orchestra is playing very softly, even to the point where there are actually only a few musicians on stage actually playing.  During these instances, any and all extraneous noise, from a cough to a door opening are immediately apparent, and thus entering the hall at this time is held as it may disrupt the performance, unlike a performance of a pop artist where the speakers are loud enough that you might not even be able to successfully talk to your neighbour much less bother the other attendees.  I would advise showing up early, maybe 15-25 minutes, especially if you've never been there before or have to pick up your tickets at Will Call (usually located near the Box Office, where you can have your tickets held for you for the night of the concert if you're worried you'll misplace them).  This also gives you time to find your seat and maybe use the facilities if you have to before the performance begins.  Also this helps to make sure you've had plenty of time to find a place to park.  Usually there are garages nearby where you can park, street parking if you wish, or most performance venues do usually have a valet parking service if you'd like to use it (usually around $10 - $15, and might just impress your date).

When/How to Clap:  This may seem absurd to you, but if you've never been to a classical performance before, there are some traditions or practices that are observed, and they may appear odd to you.  For one, just because the musicians finish playing something, and even put down their instruments, does not mean that people will start applauding.  This is where your program comes in handy (they will have these at the entrances to the concert hall, probably distributed by ushers, and, unless you know everything there is to know about this concert and these composers, performers and pieces, I would recommend taking one).  You will see pieces listed, in all probability, something like this list below (e.g. an all-Beethoven program), and they may or may not use Roman numerals indicating movements (so I've done one with and one without).  In the below program, there are a number of different instances where one might applaud, and at least 3 different "endings" of which to be aware, the end of a movement (implied), the end of a movement (stop), and the full end of the piece.

Sample Program:

     Egmont Overture, Op. 84

     Piano Concerto No. 4 in G Major, Op. 58  - Pianist:  Jean-Yves Thibaudet
          I.  Allegro moderato
          II.  Andante con moto
          III. Rondo, vivace

     Intermission

     Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67
          Allegro con brio
          Andante con moto
          Scherzo.  Allegro -attacca-
          Allegro

Example Beethoven Concert Progression:  Firstly, in the USA, the orchestra will probably be already on stage, maybe warming up, maybe just sitting there politely, waiting (in Europe, et al, sometimes the traditions vary, but I live in the USA, so this is how I will write things).  What happens next is that all the musicians will all, by a somewhat unspoken cue, put down their instruments and sort of come to "attention".  The principal first violinist, or Concertmaster/mistress, as he/she is known, will come on stage and bow.  It is polite to applaud for him/her.  The orchestra will then tune, led by the concertmaster/mistress and the principal oboist, who gives the tuning note.  When that is done, the concertmaster/mistress also sits down and they will get quiet again.  The next person to come out will be the conductor, and it is polite to applaud shortly for him/her as well.  The orchestra will then perform the first piece, the Egmont Overture, they will finish, the musicians will put down their instruments and the audience will all applaud as the conductor turns around, takes a bow or two and then walks back off of the stage.  There, that's easy enough to understand, and makes sense.

Here, though, is where it starts getting odd.  There will likely be a short pause after that piece and before the concerto.  The next person to walk on the stage will usually be the soloist (here:  Jean-Yves Thibaudet) followed closely by the conductor who will stand slightly back while the soloist bows a few times for the audience.  It is again customary to applaud for the soloist, and usually a large chunk of the audience is here specifically to see this piece and/or performer, so he/she will usually get a slightly longer applause.  The soloist will sit down at the piano (or pick up his/her instrument in the case of a violin concerto, etc...) and they will begin the piece.  Then the first movement will end.  There will be usually some shuffling of papers, the orchestra might turn the page of their sheet music, the conductor will look around at his musicians, they'll all get ready again, and then they'll start the second movement.  And probably nobody clapped at all.  This is because it is customary to view each piece as a complete work of art, that is, one cannot appreciate and applaud this work until each movement has been completed and thus the full musical statement is made.  So the second movement will finish, no one applauds, and then they move onto the third.

When this movement ends, however, the applause will break out usually in earnest.  A concerto is a showpiece for a solo musician, and usually involves pretty impressive displays of technique as well as expressive, emotive sections.  Thus, the audience will often applaud greatly for this musician.  It is customary to applaud such that the soloist can go off the stage, hear that you have continued to applaud and show your appreciation, and then come back on the stage to once again acknowledge you before going offstage again.  Now, that is all you need to do to "fit in" with the rest of the crowd, and feel like you were doing what everyone else is doing.  However, if this particular performer astounds and impresses you so, and so with many others in attendance, the soloist may go off and on another few more times while you enthusiastically applaud, standing up to further indicate your enjoyment, and possibly whistle and/or shout "Bravo!" ("Brava!" possibly, if the soloist is female), which are quite acceptable methods of expressing adulation.  If the soloist is then so inclined, he/she may then perform for you an "encore", an additional piece not listed in the program.  These will often not include the orchestra (though not necessarily) and instead be selected from amongst the repertoire written for this instrument solo, sometimes chosen to emphasize just how good the performer's technique is for your pleasure, though just as often to further showcase their emotive ability on the instrument.  Depending on the performer's willingness to pull pieces out of thin air and the enthusiasm of the attendees, this can theoretically go on indefinitely, though it is extremely rare to see any more than 1 or 2 encores, and I personally have never seen more than 3.  It is also possible that, no matter how enthusiastically you applaud, the soloist simply does not wish to, or has nothing prepared, and so will not perform an encore, but they usually have one ready to go in case it is needed.

There are exceptions to the above progression, but usually it will occur as I have just laid out.  An example might be if the first movement of this piece showcases a technique so virtuosic that they cannot contain themselves, the audience might break out into applause anyway following its conclusion.  There are a few locations, cities and orchestras that have accepted the practice, too, where there is always polite applause after each movement, in which case you should feel free to join in, though it will probably abate quickly.  There is the possibility that the orchestra might also tune again before the concerto.  This is much more likely to happen if the soloist is string or wind instrument, and less likely if it is a pianist.  Once all the applause has subsided and the soloist is firmly off the stage followed by the conductor (who usually remains kind of secondary to the soloist, though will probably bow a few times as well), the musicians of the orchestra will likely get up and mill about which is when the audience will also stand up and stretch their legs.

This is the "Intermission".  It usually lasts about 20 minutes during which time you will most likely visit the facilities, possibly the bar to purchase a drink, maybe the gift shop, and possibly stopping by a table which is usually set up with CDs of the soloist to purchase, who might also come out to autograph them.  Usually drinks besides bottled water are not allowed back into the hall as they are noisy (e.g. cubes of ice rattling around) and, as stated above, can be disruptive to the performance experience.  Usually any food available is limited to candy bars or cookies, a form of quick snack and again are not usually allowed back into the hall.

You will all retake you seats, the performers will come to attention again, the orchestra will possibly tune again, and then the conductor will again take the stage to another quick smattering of applause.  Then begins the other main piece on the program, here Beethoven's 5th symphony.  As with the concerto above, it is common to not applaud between movements, and, without the aid of a particular soloist up front with dazzling virtuosity, it is even less likely for enthusiastic applause to erupt spontaneously between movements.

Here I would like to take a moment to mention movements.  These are different sections of the piece as a whole, and are usually indicated with either Roman numbers (I - IV being common for symphonies, I - III for concerti) or by listing each movement on a separate line (both illustrated in the example above).  Most of the time, there will be a break and a short silence between movements.  This is, however, not always the case.  In this example, Beethoven's 5th symphony, the third movement goes right into the 4th movement with no pause in between.  This is the "implied" movement ending that I mentioned above.  The movement has concluded and the new one has started, but you may not be certain of it because the musicians did not pause.  The program may indicate "attacca" as I have done above, indicating that the piece goes directly on from one movement to the next, but it may not (often only included in the program if the composer him/herself wrote "attacca" into the score of the piece).  If the movements are separated by Roman numerals it is less likely that they will be performed continuously, but this is not a hard and fast rule.

The reason that this can be problematic is that if you are not familiar with this piece of music, you might not know when it ends!  Given the general applause guidelines given above then, they might reach the end of the piece and you would just sit there waiting for the next movement while the orchestra is wondering why you're not applauding.  The easiest way to combat this is two things:  A) make sure you know when each successive movement starts regardless of any break in the piece or B) and more easily, watch everyone else.  There will always be somebody there who knows this piece well enough to know when to and when not to clap, so when unsure, you can always hesitate for a second before enthusiastically joining in with everyone else (unless it's a world premiere, but let's not worry about that).

But if you'd like to try A, because it's always fun to know exactly what you're listening to, here are some guidelines.  Most movements run most of their course at relatively the same tempo.  They may speed up or slow down, maybe have a few tempo changes in between, but by and large, they'll be about the same speed throughout, usually starting and ending the same (an exception being for example the very first movement of a classical symphony which may have a slow opening just as an attention grabber before moving into a quicker pace which it then continues for the rest of the movement).  So if it looks like the entire orchestra is shifting from one gear into another, there's a decent chance that this is a movement change.  You'll also probably see some pages turned in the sheet music, instruments being put down by people who were playing and picked up by people who were not.  The other thing is to actually follow the tempi as put forth by the composer.  The movements almost always have them indicated (in Italian).  Words you'll see that indicate a "faster" movement, or rather, one that does not feel consciously slow, are Allegro, Allegretto, Vivace, Vivo, Presto, and Scherzo (not technically a speed, but it almost always is quick).  Words to indicate a "slower" movement would be Lento, Andante, Andantino, Adagio, Largo, and Grave.  There's also the very real possibility that you will know the true ending of the piece because it will just "feel" like an ending.  The orchestra plays loud chords with every member of the orchestra playing, and they all cut off together and the conductor finishes his movements with a flourish looking pleased.  This is not always the case, though, so be prepared for anything if you're not familiar with this piece of music.

When this piece is then concluded, you would indicate just how enthusiastically you enjoyed it by the number of times you bring the conductor back on stage after he/she goes off.  Again it is considered customary to bring the conductor back at least once, but if you've been particularly impressed, feel free to keep applauding in order to bring him/her back on repeatedly.  You will find that you may be more or less enthused than other attendees, and this is normal, nothing will be held against you if you choose to stop clapping before others or clap after many others have stopped.  You may also give a standing ovation here if you've particularly enjoyed the concert.  It is fairly rare for the orchestra to give an encore as a whole, but I have seen it done.  With this, the conductor leaves the stage, the concert is over, and you may continue on with the rest of your evening's plans.

I hope this is helpful to you, and if you have any questions, please feel free to let me know.