Dying From Malaria Is Less Embarrassing Than Dying From Syphilis

Louis Moreau Gottschalk was a poster boy for the American melting pot ideal. The son of a Jewish father from London and a Creole Haitian mother, he was born in the cultural potpourri that is New Orleans. He trained at the Paris Conservatoire and went on to tour extensively in Central and South America.

Souvenir De Porto Rico (Marche Des Gibaros) was written during a lengthy vacation in Puerto Rico. The first theme of the piece is based on a melody borrowed from “Si me dan pasteles, les dénmoles calientes” (which translates to “If You Give Me Cakes, Give Me Hot Ones"), a folk song of the local peasants. This use of folk music reproduced in a European classical form predates the work of Béla Bartók who frequently used native Hungarian songs as compositional themes. Gottschalk’s first theme, on first presentation, does not have any of the melodic spice or dance-like rhythm one would associate with Puerto Rican music. It sounds like a Eurocentric minor key dirge. However in repeated variations it grows in rhythmic and harmonic complexity. The second, major key theme is where I believe the song begins to shine. There are traces of ragtime – although the piece was written nearly fifty years before the invention of ragtime. The rhythm becomes more and more syncopated, perhaps an influence of Central American music. The melody successively becomes more chromatic. This chromaticism, rather than sounding dissonant or atonal, has a playful nature. Many of the runs are in conjunct half-step motion – and I think the one that screams RAGTIME is the Major 2 to the Minor 3, to the Major 3. This is the exact same melodic element that defines Scott Joplin’s “The Entertainer” from 1902. The entire form of the piece starts slow and simple, builds to a bundle of energy, and then dies away. It is written that the piece is intended to sound like the Gibaros (the local farmers) approaching from the distance and then marching away. I guess I can buy that. This storyline behind the music is a hallmark of the Romanic Era.

I admire this piece for its originality, especially its adaptation of various cultural influences into a Romanic piano solo. The work shows signs of virtuosity, however every note serves a purpose rather than just being excessively flashy. I also remember enjoying my first exposure to Gottschalk – a creative piece called “The Banjo” which sounded like … a banjo. Duh.

Q: What did Robert Schumann do when Clara Schumann asked him how he got syphilis?

A: The German Lied.

For this week’s blog I listened to an excerpt from “Im wundershonen Monat Mai”.

What?
That was the whole song??
Okay.

For this week’s blog I listened to the entire song “Im wundershonen Monat Mai”. The best thing about this song is that it’s only one minute and thirty-two seconds long. But, before you get too excited, this song is just the first piece of Dichterliebe, a 16 song cycle which totals almost 30 minutes. “Im wundershonen Monat Mai” translates as “I’m wondering where to hang my Monet”.

What???
Sorry.

“Im wundershonen Monat Mai” translates as “In the Wondrous Month of May”. The complete lyrics are:

In the wonderfully fair month of May,
as all the flower-buds burst,
then in my heart
love arose.

In the wonderfully fair month of May,
as all the birds were singing,
then I confessed to her
my yearning and longing.

Ug. Cheesier than Velveeta. (Maybe it loses something in translation.) I also dislike the vocal timbre. Male, female, baritone, or soprano, I don’t think I will ever come to enjoy this operatic style of singing.

Now let’s move on to aspects of the song that I don’t hate. Number one: the piano part. The piano does not merely serve the role of vocal accompanist; it is very lyrical and melodic on its own. In fact, I would find this tune much more enjoyable performed as a piano solo. I also enjoy the complex harmonies. The use of the damper pedal transforms long arpeggiated lines into thick, sonorous chords. I would call the chord created in the first measure a B minor/major seventh add 9 add #13 in first inversion. Sweeet. But the harmony is so ambiguous, arguments could also be made that it’s some sort of D augmented, G# diminished, or F# major. The second measure sounds like some sort of resolution because of the half-step bass motion from D to C#, but the chord is actually a C# dominant seventh – not a resolution at all but a clue that the future tonal center will be F# minor. Instead, as the first verse starts, the chord progression Bm, E7, A emerges. This is interesting not only because it moves to the major instead of the minor, but also because this II, V, I progression is the cornerstone of jazz harmony. The second half of the verse flirts with both major and minor harmonies in a progression that is extremely chromatic. The song’s form is symmetrical and easy to follow. The two verses differ only in their lyrics. They are 8 measures, divided into a 2 measure progression repeated twice, followed by a contrasting 4 measure progression. These two verses are sandwiched between three identical 4 measure piano interludes. These interludes are also symmetrical, a two measure progression repeated twice. The textbook states “the music signals that his love may remain unrequited by refusing to settle into a key and ending on a dominant seventh.” I think this interpretation may be overly reaching for a metaphor, especially when allmusic.com states that tonal resolution is reached in the very next song. I would argue that forcing a resolution would destroy the song’s pure symmetrical form.

The next selection I listened to was “Dern Lindenbaum” by Franz Schubert. “Dern Lindenbaum” translates as “Darn My Bellybutton Lint”.

What????
Sorry.

“Dern Lindenbaum” translates as “The Linden Tree”. Here are the complete lyrics:

By the fountain, near the gate,
There stands a linden tree;
I have dreamt in its shadows
So many sweet dreams.

I carved on its bark
So many loving words;
I was always drawn to it,
Whether in joy or in sorrow.

Today, too, I had to pass it
In the dead of night.
And even in the darkness
I had to close my eyes.

And its branches rustled
As if calling to me:
"Come here, to me, friend,
Here you will find your peace!"

The frigid wind blew
Straight in my face,
My hat flew from my head,
I did not turn back.

Now I am many hours
Away from that spot,
And still I hear the rustling:
There you would have found peace!

In my opinion, these lyrics don’t totally suck. This piece is also a part of a song cycle (called Winterreise) greater in scope than Schmann’s at 24 songs and over 70 minutes in length. Both songs’ lyrics make significant references to nature – a staple of Romantic music. What begins as a creatively composed piano piece quickly deteriorates as soon as the singing begins. The piano part becomes subservient to the vocal melody, unable to stand on its own. The harmonies are not as ambiguous and complex as Schumann’s and therefore, to me, less interesting. The entire piece is in the key of E, beginning and ending in major with a brief minor excursion in the middle. The form of the piece is less clear than the Schumann and therefore, to me, less enjoyable.

If I was forced to choose my favorite Eastern European romantic era lieder composer with syphilis whose name begins with s-c-h-u, I’d have to choose Schumann over Schubert.

Pathetic? No. Sonata? No.

The term “sonata” can mean a musical composition of 3 or 4 movements of contrasting forms. From a more theoretical viewpoint, however, “sonata” describes the harmonic progression (exposition, development, recapitulation) of a piece. The sonata form is most typically used in the first movement of a multi-movement sonata piece. Confused yet? Beethoven’s Piano Sonata in C Minor, Op. 13, when viewed as a whole IS a sonata – meaning it is a musical composition of 3 or 4 movements of contrasting forms. The first movement IS also a sonata due to its harmonic progression. The third movement (the piece provided on our CD) IS NOT a sonata. For those more familiar with classical music this may not be a problem, but it gives me a headache.

The third movement in Beethoven’s Piano Sonata in C Minor, Op. 13 is a seven part rondo with a coda. This can be diagramed as A-B-A-C-A-D-A’. The A section, or refrain, is repeated a total of four times – which can be heard on tracks 1, 3, 5, and 7 of the piece. The A section should be what makes or breaks the piece, since it is the main theme. I was not overly impressed with the main theme, but instead found the various episodes more entertaining. I enjoyed the greater variety of rhythms and dynamics in the B section, as well as the way in which Beethoven moved from the tonic to the relative major and then back again. Section C begins with an abrupt key change to A flat major, not too jolting though because it is a closely related key. The rhythm is a gentle, syncopated rocking back and forth legato motion. This quickly evolves from half notes, to quarter notes, to staccato eighth notes, to sweeping sixteenth note arpeggios. The D section is again rhythmically and dynamically diverse, borrowing many elements from the B section, this time however presenting them in C major. This similarity between the B and D sections provide a sense of balance to the movement. It may also qualify the work as some sort of sonata-rondo hybrid form, but that would necessitate the creation of a new catchy title so I think I’ll argue against it.

Overall I enjoyed this piece, not for its main theme, but for its diversions away from the main theme. I’d say that’s good enough. Some people enjoy watching the Superbowl just to see the commercials.

To print out the sheet music so you can play it at home click here:

http://www.all-about-beethoven.com/pdf/beethoven/pathetique.pdf

It’s Been Years

I was pleasantly surprised to rediscover Mozart’s Piano Sonata In F Major, K.332. I Used To Play This! It must have been junior high or early high school. Hours and hours of practice seem to have burned this song into my brain, because I remembered every note. Though my piano chops may have been better in those days, my theoretical scope of knowledge is much larger now. I shudder to think how many piano sonatas I played without ever knowing what a sonata was.

This piece has so many great qualities. The melody is tuneful and memorable – the polar opposite of Brandenburg. The dynamics are frequently changing. The tempo modulates from slow and lilting to fast and furious. The mood changes from light and playful to strong and powerful. The harmonic changes are imaginative.

The form is, indeed, a sonata. The second theme of the exposition in the dominant key of C returns in the recapitulation in the tonic key of F. (To hear this contrast the third and fourth CD tracks of the piece to the eighth and ninth tracks.) The way in which the exposition moves from tonic to dominant is genius. Measure 22 (I wish I had the entire score, but I’ll have to get by with the excerpt on page 554) features a dramatic move to the relative minor key of D. Since the keys of F major and D natural minor share the same tones, Mozart could’ve made this transition seamless. Instead he opts for a three octave forte chord of C#, the leading tone of D minor, but the non-diatonic augmented fifth of F major. Several diminished seventh chords on the leading tone further solidify this key change to D minor before modulating down a whole step creating a new tonal center of C minor. Further modulation leads us eventually to G which serves as the dominant chord for the second theme in C major. The development (the fifth track of the piece) begins on the dominant C, briefly changing to C minor and then going tonally haywire. The development features a deceptive dominant cadence on A7, which suggests a return to D minor, but then through some chromatic trickery finally resolves on C7. This brings us back to the recapitulation in the tonic F major.

It is amazing the Mozart was able to create a work which was both melodically expressive (gallant) as well as harmonically complex with a high degree of chromaticism. I remember enjoying this piece in my younger days and looking back on it with more experienced eyes I am able to appreciate it on an even deeper level.

Nonviolence Doesn't Always Work - But Violins Never Do

The thing I find most objectionable about the majority of classical music is the instrumental timbres. Most notably the strings. Most notably the violins. I don’t mind trios or quartets, but in the symphony orchestra setting (where the string musicians outnumber the amount of players on a professional football squad) the cacophony becomes unbearable. Stringed instruments are capable of two sounds: quick screeching notes like nails on a chalkboard, or long dizzying vibratos like spinning in a circle to the point of nausea. Violins are the most offensive of the string family due to their high, piercing register.

On the subject of timbre, Brandenburg Concerto No. 6 rates fairly well in my book. The whole work is in a lower register than most, without as much squeaking and shuddering as usual. Allmusic.com tells me that this piece lacks the presence of violins. The instrumentation consists of two violas, two violas da gamba, a cello, a violone, and a harpsichord: not as cluttered as an orchestra, but a little more busy than a quartet. The choice of instrumentation is unusual as the violins are usually the stars of the show, responsible for the main melody. Brandenburg 6 is more diplomatic, with a polyphonic division of melody between the string players.

The rhythm in movements 1 and 3 is incessant and pounding, like a bad hangover. Though there are many notes being played, they don’t seem to be serving a purpose. Much of the piece sounds like the string players are practicing their arpeggios. The second movement is a welcome intermission from this monotonous, pulsating beat.

I’ve listened Brandenburg 6 many times during the past week and yet, save for the first few seconds of the first movement, it has failed to stick in my long term memory. That is so say, I don’t hear a hook. There are some interesting harmonic movements in the work, but the melody, instead of striking out on its own, seems only to serve by reinforcing chord tones.

If I was Brandenburg, I wouldn’t have given Bach a job either.