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.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
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.
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.
Friday, June 14, 2013
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 viio 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.
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 viio 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.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
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
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.
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
Friday, April 19, 2013
Recommended Listening: Handel's "Music For the Royal Fireworks"
Requisite Knowledge Level for Understanding (* being beginner, ***** being expert): **
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
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.
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.
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