Wagner in the Concert Hall: A Brief Look into Richard Wagner's Orchestral Music

This is a short piece on Wagner's Orchestral Music. It's more of an abstract than anything else. I did some brief research—New Groves and a few articles—in order to familiarize myself with the topic. Here is what I found.

#

Richard Wagner is considered one of the most influential composers of his time. He most certainly had an immense effect on how those who came after him treated composition, both from the point of orchestral texture and musical intention. His greatest influence, of course, has been felt in the world of opera. Wagner’s operas were all monumental in orchestration and length, pushing performers to the edge. What is often left out of the study of Wagner are the non-operatic works he composed. His orchestral works in particular are of interest due to the fact that they are sometimes heard in American concert halls. This study intends to look deeper into the currently available research on Wagner’s orchestral music in order to determine what effect, if any, it had on the evolution of music as well as Wagner himself.

Wagner Werke-Verzeichnis, by John Deathridge, Martin Geck, and Egon Voss, lists a total of twenty-four original orchestral compositions by Wagner, several of which are incomplete. Of these twenty-four works, only eight are listed in David Daniel's Orchestral Music, the standard repertoire reference of English speaking orchestras. Of these eight pieces, three are overtures, three are marches, one is a symphony, and the other is a symphonic poem for chamber orchestra (See Appendix A). Each of the these types—overture, symphony, symphonic poem, and march—will be addressed separately.

The first orchestral genre Wagner composed in was that of the concert overture. He composed several of these while he was studying with Christian Theodor Weinlig between 1830 and 1832. In these early overtures Wagner makes his first attempt at reconciling the conflict of clear communication in a purely instrumental work. It is clear that he did not reach the level of communication that he desired because such a great portion of his output was in the form of musical drama. It is, of course important to note that these early overtures were stepping stones toward his ultimate view on music and drama. The three later overtures seem to be Wagner’s last attempts at the making the genre meet his dramatic expectations. The inspiration for the Columbus Overture is clearly Mendelssohn. The Rule Britannia Overture was inspired by Beethoven, though Wagner’s attempts to surpass Beethoven’s orchestration skills add an unintended humor to the work. The inspiration for his Faust Overture is up for debate. Wagner states that it was Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, but current research suggests that it was actually Berlioz’s Roméo et Juliette that inspired him. Wagner seems to have seen Berlioz’s work at the time as a solution to his music and story-telling problem.

Wagner only completed and published one symphony, but fragments of others still survive. In fact, the Faust Overture was originally intended to be the first movement of a symphony, but instead was revised to stand alone. Wagner’s Second Symphony suffered a similar fate, though was never published in any form. The first movement was completed and though no autograph score exists, there is one edition available. Wagner’s Symphony in C major is the only one he ever completed. In fact, it was the final piece he composed while studying with Weinlig. The Symphony itself follows a very traditional Beethovenian structure. The first movement is a sonata, the second movement is essentially a slow ternary form, the third is a traditional scherzo, and the final movement is another sonata form instead of the slightly more traditional rondo. The work clearly shows the influence of Beethoven, which can be expected considering the fact that Wagner was studying Beethoven’s works intensely under the instruction of Weinlig. The premiere in Leipzig in 1832 was a defining moment in Wagner’s life. It was this performance that introduced him to the musical world. It was not often performed afterwards, but it is clear that he left a good impression on his audience. Some listeners, including Clara Wieck (before her marriage to Schumann) noted a striking resemblance to Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. The influence of Beethoven on Wagner cannot be underestimated. Not only does Wagner cite Beethoven as the reason he began to compose, but it is clear at this point that Wagner was searching desperately in his youth for the next step music should take in legacy of Beethoven.

The Siegfried Idyll came much later in Wagner’s career. He had already married Cosima von Bülow (neé Liszt) and the piece itself was actually a present for her birthday. The piece itself is a fairly standard sonata form. It was first performed with a small ensemble—about 15 players—for Cosima on her birthday, the 24th of December 1870. Afterwards, Wagner wanted it to be performed publicly and actually intended a larger ensemble. He even intended to arrange the piece for a full orchestra, but never completed the work. The fact that he wrote a symphonic piece so far into his career suggests that Wagner never gave up on expressing himself clearly through purely instrumental music. Perhaps there was a sort of semantic language in the piece that only he and Cosima were able to understand.

Two of the marches Wagner composed were originally for military band, but were later arranged either by Wagner himself in the case of the Kaisermarsch, or under his supervision as in the case of the Huldigungsmarsch. The Grosser Festmarsch was composed for orchestra. Each of these marches was composed later on in his career and seems to have served some extra-musical purpose. The Huldigungsmarsch was composed for Ludwig II’s birthday in 1864, the same year Ludwig took the throne. It seems plausible that this was Wagner’s first step in gaining the full financial support of Ludwig’s throne. The Kaisermarsch served the purpose of celebration. The Germans had just won the Franco-Prussian war (1871) and the Second Reich had been established. The last march Wagner composed, in fact the last orchestral work he composed, was the Grosser Festmarsch. This piece was written for the opening of the American Centennial celebration. Wagner’s intense nationalism makes the march seem an oddity, but it could be that he simply wanted the money from the commission.

It is quite obvious that Wagner did compose orchestral works, but the effect of each of these works is difficult to ascertain. The fact that his few orchestral works are considered a part of the standard repertoire provides evidence of their importance but the fact that they are not often heard is evidence to the contrary. It is clear, though, that these orchestral works—specifically the early overtures and the Symphony in C major—played an extreme role in Wagner’s musical development. It is here that he experimented with the techniques of Beethoven and developed his own views on orchestration and harmony. Without having composed these works, it is possible that we would not have the operas of Wagner. At least they would sound very different.

Appendix A

The 24 composer originated orchestral works listed in Wagner Werke-Verzeichnis. Those listed in Orchestral Music are noted with bold typeface. Numbers do not indicate opus or WWV numbers, but are simply for listing purposes.

1. Overture in B flat major (Paukenschlag-Ouvertüre), WWV10
2. Polish Overture, WWV11
3. Overture to Schiller's Dies Braut von Messina, WWV12
4. Fragment of an orchestral work in E minor, WWV13
5. Overture in C major, WWV14
6. Overture in E flat major, WWV17
7. Concert Overture No. 1 in D minor, WWV20
8. Overture in E minor and Theater Music to Raupach's König Enzio, WWV24
9. Entreacte tragique No. 1 in D major (Fragment), WWV 25
10. Concert Overture No. 2 in C major, WWV27
11. Symphony in C major, WWV29
12. Symphony in E major, WWV35
13. Overture to Guido Theodor Apel's historic drama Columbus, WWV37
14. Polonia. Overture in C major, WWV39
15. Rule Britannia. Overture in D major, WWV42
16. Faustsymphonie, first movement (became Faust Overture), WWV59
17. Faust Overture (second version), WWV59
18. Funeral music, WWV73
19. Symphonies, WWV78
20. Träume. Version for violin and orchestra, WWV91B
21. Huldigungsmarsch. Arrangement for military music, WWV97
22. Siegfried Idyll, WWV103
23. Kaisermarsch, WWV104
24. Grosser Festmarsch for the Opening of the Centennial Celebration of the Signing of the Declaration of Independence of the United States of America, WWV110

#

I found the entire endeavor to be extremely interesting. So much of our focus when it comes to Wagner is on his operas. It was nice to explore a new side of his musical output.

Book Discussion Reaction

The Music Quickens Time installment of the Bregman Book Discussion Series took place last week. After reflecting on the proceedings I have formulated an informal response.

Since it is on the informal side of things, it is posted at this blogs informal counterpart—Maestro Taussig Conducting, which is more focused on my participation in and views upon making music. Rather than the scholarly effort I put forth here—mostly in the form of papers and articles—I write more lax assessments of the day to day life of a young conductor.

I hope you all enjoy the response. This side project was in the works for several months, and it was good to see it through. I really enjoyed giving back to the Potsdam community.

Chicago—"25 or 6 to 4"

This is an analysis I wrote just a few months ago while I was studying the theory and analysis of rock music. Just in case of a font error I inserted a parenthetical note (sd 4) to represent the symbol for scale degree four (4 with a ^). The book I mention, by Ken Stephenson, is quite good and I recommend it for anyone who has a real interest in rock music. Here is the bibliographic information:

Stephenson, Ken. 2002. What to listen for in rock. US: Sheridan Books.

#

Chicago – 25 or 6 to 4

When beginning an analysis of any rock song, it is imperative that one comes with open ears. The musical choices made by the band are often made based on their aesthetic preferences, not on the traditional musical canon. Even in the realm of rock, every band is looking to make their own sound. This could be created by following a particularly unique set of harmonic, melodic, rhythmic, or formal values, or it could be in the form of instrumentation, timbre, and other aspects that are not easily quantified. In the case of Chicago, their particular sound is created by their choice of instrumentation and the stylistic influence of jazz on their work.

The song “25 or 6 to 4” follows a fairly standard set of rock guidelines. Its phrasing, cadence points (or relative lack thereof), form, which will be briefly addressed later, and even its succession of harmonies are relatively normal. Of the aspects that can be easily quantified, as defined by Stephenson in his book What to Listen for in Rock, there are only two left. These aspects—which are key, mode, chord type, and harmonic palette—are where we break away from what would be considered normal for rock music and begin to delve into some of the things that make Chicago sound like Chicago, and in particular make “25 or 6 to 4” sound so unique.

The key, and how it is handled, in “25 or 6 to 4” is one of the defining aspects of the listening experience. The first melodic material, indeed the very first material overall, that the listener hears is a near-stepwise descent of the bass and guitar from A to E. When the voice enters shortly afterwards, it presents a contrasting line in which it ascends from A to A skipping only F on its way. The pitch material presented by this point in the song has not only given you the suggestion of a key in the guitar and bass, but confirmed itself with the voice. The song is clearly in some mode of A. As a result, we will, until otherwise noted, assume that A=0. The exact pitch materal presented by the voice is the only material we are given by the voice and brass instruments. This set of {0 2 3 5 7 T} is actually quite interesting. It appears in both of the melodic forces—the voice and the brass—and in very similar ways. Its arrangement allows the confirmation that the key is, most certainly, A. It does not, on the other hand, give the listener all the material necessary to determine its mode. Is it A dorian or A aeolian? The presence of both an F and Fﾸ in the opening line in the guitar and bass further complicates the choice. The listener is left guessing by the time the verse reaches its end and the refrain (including a pre-refrain line) begins.

When the refrain enters, the listener is given an odd choice. At first listening, it could seem as though the key has changed, but upon further analysis, it can be determined that it is a likely possibility that it has not. The melodic material presented by the voices (there is no brass during this subsection) is almost identical to that of the previous section. The pre-refrain line contains {0 2 3 T} and the refrain line contains {0 3 7 8 T} for a total content of {0 2 3 7 8 T} during this subsection. The fact that the pre-refrain starts on {0} and the refrain line ends on {0} implies that the key never actually changed, but rather took a short and very suggestive detour. Furthermore, the appearance of {8} in this section, barring a key change, confirms that the mode of the piece is aeolian.

The sections of solo material that appear between verses (the refrain will be considered a subsection of the verse) contain melodic material that continues to support the theory that the key of the piece is A, but due to the jazz nature of the piece, the traditional approach to these sections would be of an improvisatory nature, thus the changing nature of the melodic material makes it difficult to justify analysing the specific content in one particular recording.

Harmonically, the song is unique. The opening melodic line in the guitar and bass is quite straightforward, but the harmonies that could be implied are too numerous and ambiguous to determine. Once the listener begins to hear more, though, the suggested harmonies become more clear. With some difficulty, one can come to the conclusion that there is a specific succession of harmonies that are implied. I suggest that the harmonies in the verse (without the refrain) are Am, C/G, D7/Fﾸ, F, and E. This would make the succession of harmonies, if we continue to assume A aeolian, i, III64, IV65, VI, and V. This a perfectly normal mix of rock and common practice standards. The chord palette though is a little abnormal. The presence of IV65 is nearly inexplicable. In the natural minor system, as presented by Stephenson, the only type of chord with a root of ﾳ (sd 4) that can exist is minor, yet in this case we have not only a major chord based on ﾳ (sd 4), but a dominant seventh. In fact, IV65 isn’t present in any of Stephenson’s standard chord palettes. Thus, the only logical choice is to consider it a break from the norm.

The refrain subsection presents a much less challenging set of harmonies. The chords presented are not heard via a complicated analysis of suggested harmonies, but rather are simply played in full. They are F, C, G, and F which slides up to Am. Continuing to assume that we are in A aeolian, the chord succession would be VI, III, VII, VI↗i. The fact that this fits within the rock standards further supports that the key has not changed. The palette here is well within the confines of Stephenson’s natural minor standard, which supports the theory that the IV65from earlier in the verse is simply a unique case.

Ultimately, the unquantifiable aspects of the song do weigh heavy on the listening experience. This is where a Stephensonian analysis would fall short. Such an analysis would provide a clear and rational description of all the technical details of the piece, in some way similar to those descriptions provided here, but would not delve into the subjective part of listening. The lyrics of this piece are ambiguous in their own way. The title “25 or 6 to 4” could mean any number of things. The band has made several different suggestions themselves. The term “6 to 4” is an old British idiomatic expression that refers to a prostitute. Perhaps it refers to the time of day: 3:34 or 3:35. If so, is it morning or night? Is the singer talking about writing a song? Is he talking about an illegal experience he had in his youth? It is hard to know, but these aspects should have an impact on how we interpret the piece.

#

Thoughts or comments?

/Music Quickens Time/—"Freedom of Thought and Interpretation"

This will be my last essay on Music Quickens Time. The third chapter is the last that pertains to the overarching philosophical nature of music and humanity. The fourth through sixth chapters are by no means pedestrian. They simply have more specific topics which are less conducive to the philosophical reactionary essays I have been writing for this particular blog. It is reasonable to expect that I will write one more reaction later this month after the book discussion panel has been completed. This chapter "Freedom of Thought and Interpretation" is perhaps the most philosophical chapter of the book. It is occasionally difficult to wrap one's head around of the concepts that Mr. Barenboim is referring to. Essentially it philosophizes about the human mind and the interpretations that it creates. Without further adieu, here is my reaction:

#

In the third chapter of Music Quickens Time, Mr. Barenboim addresses the human mind. He draws most of his basic principles from Spinoza's Ethics. In fact, his treatment of it almost makes the reader think of it as a sacred text. Putting all other belief systems aside, this actually makes sense. The book itself speaks to the ethics of humanity, not just in what we should do, but how human minds actually function. That is not to say that Spinoza was a psychologist. He didn't attempt to understand the human mind from a scientific standpoint, but rather from a philosophical standpoint.

For instance, the first Spinozan principle which Barenboim presents to the reader is the most important to the basis of the chapter. Barenboim states his interpretation quite clearly:

The more one is able to determine one's own thoughts—in fact, causing one's own thoughts, thereby creating one's own experience of reality—the more it is possible to become self-determined and to be truly free.

He then provides a very accessible example of how the standard views on freedom do not match the Spinozan principle:

It is quite easy to believe oneself free in modern Western civilization, having so many choices—the choice of where to live, what to read, what to watch on television or the [i]nternet—when in fact this kind of freedom requires a keen awareness of one's appetites. Without this, one is simply the slave of these appetites and not in possession of the power to shape one's own ideas and actions.

This was the first moment while reading Music Quickens Time that I could think of nothing to add to Barenboim's views. He quite perfectly analyzed Spinoza's philosophy and showed it in the context of Western society. When he further posits a musical view on the principle I also found myself in full agreement. He states that emotions and intellect are often in competition with one another, which, while difficult to prove scientifically due to the wide array of human personalities, is clearly experienced by most—if not all—people. It is this competition between the two that he puts into perspective within a musical setting. He states that musicians often fall prey to the idea that a thorough intellectual analysis of a piece will hinder their ability to freely express themselves during performance. In my own experience, I have heard an alarming number of musicians put faith in this superstition. He proposes that a rational understanding of a piece is the only possible way for the imagination to have completely free reign and that those musicians who fear such analysis are "mistaking knowledge for rigidity." I could not agree more.

The second Spinozan principle that Barenboim presents to his readers is that there are three levels of knowledge with varying levels of validity. Spinoza places empirical knowledge (experiential knowledge) below that of reason which is below intuition. I do not feel that there is any real hierarchy of knowledge, instead I place all knowledge at the same level. Empiricists learn via experience and the analysis thereof. All of the practical sciences are dependent on experimentation which is a means of gaining empirical data. The second level is reason, which in Spinozan philosophy means general knowledge. For instance, knowing a general principle about the circle (area = pi * r^2) would fit this category. I find it difficult to agree with this because almost any knowledge attained in this category had to come from empirical data. Mathematicians did not simply reason out that said formula made sense. They measured and compared values to find the constant pi. Without knowing what pi is equal to there is no usable formula. How can we call one more powerful than the other when they are dependent upon each other. Barenboim makes no real comment about Spinoza's highest level of knowledge, intuition. He simply states that it is often criticized as obscure.

He then begins to move forward into the nature of technology and how it has effected our freedom of thoughts. He puts forth that advances in media have caused the general population to be satisfied with short slogans that contain very little intellectual inquiry. These slogans, he states, are poor substitutes for the real ideas that they attempt to represent. The combination of these and our society's desire for immediate gratification causes a certain degree of mental laziness. It is perfectly logical to make this conclusion, but it is also important to take it with a grain of salt, because such generalizations are dangerous to base one's actions upon. He then moves on to how these technologies (specifically the internet) do not leave room for educated discussion. I completely disagree on that note. This is the moment that Mr. Barenboim shows his age. Someone who was raised using these technologies as a tool for research and discussion knows how to sift through all the superfluous rubbish and find the correct venues. Internet forums (such as ChoralNet Forums) and email lists (such as OrchestraList and GuildList) provide ideal places to have intense educated discussion about music. This does not only apply to music, there are places for such discussion in every field. One simply needs to put in the effort to find them.

When he comes back to the topic of music he begins to compare the concepts of the score and its interpretation to the Spinozan principle that humanity bases its finitude on the infinite. He posits that the score is infinite in what it presents and that performances are merely a subtext of finite value. I tend to agree with him that each performance is but one of an infinite amount of interpretational possibilities, but I also do not think the score is infinite. There is a limited nature to every score without which the players would not have the structure necessary to play. He then compares score interpretation to script interpretation in the theater. He believes that within the theater the subtext concept is more clear cut—that the actors simply have a story to tell while they explore the conditions that influence each character. He feels that in music there is much more. I on the other hand do not. Musicians are also telling a story, but instead of using the descriptive medium of spoken language we use the representative medium of music. Musicians do not do more than actors do, nor do actors do more than musicians do. The same trials are presented to all of the arts. Within the world of sculpture, does one not need to interpret what one sees? Therein lies same the conflict for visual arts.

Lastly, Barenboim then moves into the area of politics, a topic which I have no desire to address in this blog. The concept he brings forth in this section though, is important especially to conductors. He speaks of how politicians often act tactically instead of strategically in order to remain in power. Though the terms have similar definitions the colloquial implications are slightly different. Tactical action is often reactionary and short term in effect while strategic action is most often proactive and long term in effect. For instance, the captain of a brigade uses tactics to win a battle, but the general of an army, who positions many brigades, uses strategy to win a war. This idea of using strategy over tactics is important for a conductor to be thinking about. Without a good strategy for the development of an orchestra, the players will quickly lose faith in a musical director. A conductor should have a plan for the next five years, not just the next five concerts. This will help in choosing repertoire, and very well might be that which dictates how one chooses repertoire. An effective rehearsal strategy will allow a conductor to keep the attention of the performers, who, though they are professionals, are still human and thusly will not be confident in a leader who acts in a purely reactionary manner, nor will they be confident in a leader who only acts on the small scale.

Throughout the first three, and most philosophical, chapters of Music Quickens Time, Daniel Barenboim presents many thought provoking views on music and its role in society. Though there are many points on which he stands upon opinion rather than fact, he still evokes a certain amount of awe within the reader. His experiences and talent are always apparent. His views may occasionally be pure speculation, but often the only thing we as humans have is the ability to speculate. I disagree with Barenboim on many points, most often the occasionally questionable evidence he presents, but this does not make his views invalid. Music Quickens Time presents one of many possible outlooks on music, the arts, and humanity and it is important that the reader keep this in mind. One must truly have "freedom of thought," and think intellectually about what is presented in order to formulate one's own opinion. Despite the bias presentation I highly recommend this book to anyone who loves music, or simply would like to learn how it fits into society. Just keep in mind that each view presented is only one of many.

#

Thoughts?

ChoralNet

It seems that this blog has more readers than I originally thought. ChoralNet's eponymous ChoralBlog was updated with this today.

I'm very glad that my efforts here are not simply myself writing essays for the sake of filling time. I'm very glad to see that there are readers out there enjoying my ramblings.

I'll be writing one more essay on Music Quickens Time. This one is taking longer than expected due to the extremely philosophical nature of the material.

Please remember to add ChoralBlog to your daily reads. It always has very good material.

/Music Quickens Time/—"Listening and Hearing"

Another chapter in Daniel Barenboim's Music Quickens Time, "Listening and Hearing" pertains to just what it implies. Here is my reaction.

#

In the second chapter of Daniel Barenboim's Music Quickens Time, he addresses the relationship between the brain and ear, and how both listening and hearing involve different tasks and levels of brain involvement.

Barenboim opens the chapter with a collection of quotes. He starts with Saint John—"In the beginning there was the Word."—then moves to Goethe—"In the beginning there was the Deed." He then proposes that one could also say that "in the beginning there was sound." It is impossible to know what there really was at the moment the universe began without making a leap of faith. In this particular case, I choose not to make a leap on the topic of sound. What I do choose to believe is that when man first began to walk the earth, there was most certainly sound. Assuming we accept Charles Darwin's theory of evolution, this would imply that the ear was developed as a means to enable our survival. Sound is merely the vibration of matter. How we perceive it is what makes it noise or music.

Barenboim chooses to make arguments in "Listening and Hearing" that put the eyes and ears into competition. The comparison of the two senses is, in my mind, entirely moot. Yes it is good to compare them for the purpose of scientific inquiry, but attempting to draw any real conclusions without experimentation is absolutely pointless. Nonetheless, he points out that the visual system takes up a much larger portion of the brain than the auditory system. I feel that the easiest explanation for this is that it is a much more complex process to convert lightwaves into vision, not to mention that sight is more useful to us from an evolutionary standpoint. However, he points out that neuroscientist Antonio Damasio found that the auditory system is much closer to the parts of the brain that regulate emotion and the fundamental emotions. He also says "[f]urthermore, the physical vibrations that result in sound are a variation on the sense of touch—they change the body directly and deeply, more so that the patters of light that lead to vision."

I hate to rain on his parade, but all of our senses are based on something exerting a force on us. The ear detects sound waves, the eye light waves, the skin objects in contact with us, the tongue objects in contact with it, and the nose particles in the air that come into contact with its receptors. Each requires an outside force—yes light does exert a force on us, how else could we get sunburns?—in order for there to be a sensation. He also states that a person "needs outside help in order to see: light." Of course he neglects to say that the same is true of hearing. We need sound in order to hear. Sound, though, can exist without hearing, for it is simply a type of energy.

He moves on to state that we live in a visual society. I have no problem agreeing with him on this point, but I do have a problem with what he implies later. He says that we neglect our sense of hearing. I disagree. Language is the foundation upon which our society is built, and language did not evolve out of the sense of sight, but out of the sense of hearing. Yes it is true that we have reading and writing, but neither can communicate emotion the way hearing can. Barenboim does confirm his belief in hearing as a better means of communication later in the chapter, but he neglects to mention that society depends on hearing just as much as sight. The difference is that we focus our attention more on sight.

Barenboim also brings metaphysics into the discussion. I do not claim to be an expert in the area, but then again neither does he. From what I do know, his statement "... no exact repetition is possible, because time has advanced and therefore places the second event in a different perspective," is absolutely true—from a metaphysical standpoint. He is referring to the fact that repetition in music is an accumulation of musical material. He says that the ear sends signals to the brain based on this accumulation about what to expect next. This is of course nonsense because the ear is not capable of thought, but it is true that the musical accumulation brought on by repetition does spark a certain thought process in the brain which allows the brain to predict what is most likely to happen within the music.

He feels that repetition as an accumulation is a principal that almost all Western music, regardless of form, is based upon. He brings up the fugue and sonata as examples. The fugue is mathematical in approach, while the sonata is much more freeform, but both are based on the repetition of one or more themes. The way in which he presents the forms is extremely dramatized. He explains the fugue in a normal methodical manner, but when he speaks about the sonata, he ends up describing the first appearance of the first theme as the first entrance of a character in a play. I don't know why the subject of a fugue cannot also carry this distinction. It seems that Barenboim connects with certain aspects of music or philosophy and tries to bring them to life, while neglecting to do so with others.

He then describes how the theme and variations form relates to his repetition principal. What he actually says about the form isn't very interesting, but some of his side notes are. He calls the Variations for Orchestra, Op. 31 by Schoenberg a combination of the opposing musical worlds of Brahms and Wagner. Schoenberg combines Brahms mathematical juxtaposition of the time signatures 3/2 and 6/4 and simultaneously expands upon Wagner's harmonic language. I had never thought of Schoenberg's works as an expansion upon the work of others. I had always thought of it as a new type of music—a world started entirely out of his own self-developed technique—at least in the harmonic sense. I know see Schoenberg in a different light. Yes, he did develop his own compositional techniques, but those techniques were a logical step—albeit a large one—in the direction that both Brahms and Wagner were headed.

Barenboim them skates over a comparison of reading and listening to music, leading to what can only be interpreted as the point of the chapter: "Listening, therefore, is hearing with thought ..." The rest of the chapter is devoted to pointing out how society has made hearing the standard and listening a rarity. He does however take one more crack at convincing the reader that the ear is superior to the eye. He cites Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho as proof. He says that the famous shower/murder scene had music added to it only after Hitchcock realized how much more powerful it was with the soundtrack Bernard Herrmann had written. He states that "[i]n this case, when the eye and ear work together, we see that the ear is stronger than the eye." I, on the other hand, do not see any such thing. Would the scene be less powerful without the music? Yes, of course it would. Yet, in order to be fair we should also ask if the scene would be less powerful without the film. Of course it would. I propose that the music enhances the film and the film enhances the music. Neither can reach its full potential without the other.

Barenboim continues with his assault on society's leanings towards hearing rather than listening with a few examples. He points out that visual offenses are routinely punished, or at least shunned by society—he gives the example of graphic pornography—while auditory offenses are routinely ignored—he gives the example of uncontrolled coughing during a concert. Though I find that either offense is harmless, I do think that no one should ever be subjected to a stimulus they do not desire.

In closing he calls forth the educational system to begin to take music more seriously. He feels—and I completely agree with him—that music has the ability to truly teach children to listen instead of simply hear what is going on around them. Perhaps the ability to listen to several voices at once could lead to the ability to comprehend several points of view at once. Perhaps the ability to judge how your own part interacts with the music around you could lead to the ability to judge your own place in society and in history. Perhaps the ability to appreciate and analyze music could lead us to look for and appreciate our similarities instead of searching for our differences.

#

Opinions?

/Music Quickens Time/—"Sound and Thought"

I've been reading Music Quickens Time by Daniel Barenboim. It was announced as a book included in SUNY Potsdam's semesterly Bregman Book Discussion series, and I requested to be a panelist.

The book itself is split into chapters, each of which seems to be an independent essay of sorts. This has proven quite interesting, and below is my reaction to the first chapter.

#

Music Quickens Time—"Sound and Thought"

Barenboim opens the first full chapter of his book with a simple quote, which is: "I firmly believe that it is impossible to speak about music." Yet, he goes on the write the book. This sentiment does a very good job of setting up the reader for the maze of dichotomies that is to follow in the chapter.

He puts his support behind one particular definition of music—by Ferruccio Busoni—which is that music is "sonorous air." He chooses this definition because "[it] says everything and nothing at the same time." The definition is much too vague for my taste, but is by no means incorrect, even by the standards of John Cage. Later he asks the reader "[isn't] music, after all, just a collection of beautiful sounds?" In my opinion, no. What about the grotesque moments of dissonance in Rite of Spring or the disjunct noises present in many experimental pieces?

John Locke is quoted as saying that music "wastes so much of a young [person's] time to gain but a moderate skill in it" and that on a list of accomplishments, he would give excellency in music "the last place." Barenboim contends that this is still the case in the current world, and I am inclined to agree with him. In the current economic climate, many public schools are being forced to cut back on their budgets. The first subject area to suffer across the entire nation has been music. In some cases sports teams and extra curricular activities still exist in the school, yet they wish to entirely cut the music program. He states that "music […] gives us a […] valuable tool, with which we can learn about ourselves, about our society, about politics—in short, about the human being." He speaks complete and absolute truth when he says those words, and the great majority of musicians would agree. He then supports his statement with a quote from Aristotle: "[…] enough has been said to show that music has a power of forming the character, and should therefore be introduced into the education of the young." Again, a completely truthful statement.

Barenboim later makes a point of separating music from sound. He states that "music expresses itself through sound, but sound itself is not yet music." This is a stark contrast to the "sonorous air" definition, for the definition of sonorous is "producing sound." I think a more accurate way of describing the relationship would be that music and sound are not at all separate, but that they are hopelessly entwined in one another, and that the separate aspect that he describes is not music itself, but the intention behind the music—the thoughts and feelings of the composer.

On the subject of sound and silence, he asks "Does sound dominate silence, or silence dominate sound?" To this I have no real answer. My only thoughts are that silence needs to be subjectively defined to even exist outside of theory. What is silence? Do we not always hear? John Cage wrote what he ironically called his "Silent Piece"—more commonly known as 4'33"—in response to a visit in an anechoic chamber. He could still hear two sounds. A high note and a low note. As it turns out, they were his nervous system and his circulatory system respectively. The piece was "written" to show us that sound is inescapable; it is always there. Thus, how should we define silence? Is it the absence of sound? Surely not, for in that way it simply cannot exist in practice. Is it the absence of intent? Perhaps this is one possibility, but a car engine is certainly not silent. Barenboim states that music must interrupt or evolve out of the silence that precedes it, then that the music is also not over with the last note, but with the silence that follows it. He then likens music to life itself, starting and ending in nothingness. Perhaps silence being congruent with death is reasonable to some musicians, but I think it's a bit overly dramatic. Yet, the comparison still exists, and is still quite intriguing. Further comparisons include legato to humanity on a whole—each person overlapping and giving into one another to become something larger than the sum of the parts.

Barenboim further purports that "[…] any verbalization is nothing but a description of our subjective […] reaction to the music." This is certainly true, but not because music is any particular special case. All language is merely a description, via a linguistic verbal symbol, of something else. That is the reason that misunderstandings can exist. It is often difficult to be clear when communicating with symbols, which is all that language really is. On this particular point, he states that music cannot be articulated in words. I disagree. Music can certainly be articulated in words, but doing so often corrupts the intention and content of the music.

He then moves on to his interpretation of how music is really made. He calls it an organic whole dependent on the combination of several inseparable parts: harmony, melody, rhythm, volume, and tempo. In this section he also states that "music does not need interpretation." The first point, that music is an organic whole, settles quite easily for me, but the latter point is one I simply cannot agree with. We interpret everything. The sense of hearing itself is the brain's interpretation of the oscillation of our Basilar Membrane. Meaning itself is dependent on interpretation; words would mean nothing if they weren't symbols to be interpreted as a concept, action, or thing. He then goes into a section that pertains more to the decisions a conductor makes on how to perform the music. What tempo shall we take? Should we play piano as indicated, or shall we play forte? How soft should the pianissimo be? He ultimately states that there are three questions musicians should ask themselves before following what is on the page: "why, how, and for what purpose?" He feels that unwillingness to ask these questions is symptomatic of a blind faithfulness to the page and an unfaithfulness to the spirit of the music.

The last section of the chapter deals with what he identifies more openly as dichotomies. He considers ambiguity to be a virtue in music, but a vice in life. I feel that it is neither in either circumstance. Riddles and puzzles often must be vague to be effective. On the other side, why must music be ambiguous? Is not the music of Bach wonderful? I would never be tempted to call his music ambiguous. What Barenboim does make clear and acceptable is that music can be many things at once. Within it, joy and sorrow can be one, allowing a sense of balance and harmony.

He closes the chapter with a short narrative of how music relates to time. It can only be presented over a period of time, and thusly, like history, a single moment can change our outlook, not only on what follows it, but on the thing as a whole. It is a combination of all of this that makes music a parallel to life itself and a window into the soul—the real reason by which it is, as Aristotle said, "a valuable tool."

#

Opinions?