Music
Music has mattered since time immemorial. According to J.R. McNeill and William H. McNeill’s “The Human Web” song and dance “arouse a warm sense of emotional solidarity” and “became universal among human communities.” William Congreve wrote, “Music has charms to soothe a savage breast.” It is often misquoted as “Music has charms to soothe a savage beast,” but that is probably true also. Edna St. Vincent Millay wrote, “Without music I should wish to die.” Archibald MacLeish in his poem Ars Poetica said “A poem should not mean/But be.” The same can surely be said of music. For example, there is a theme in the middle of Chopin’s Ballade 1 in C minor that sounds almost conversational, although I can’t pin down just what it is saying.
According to Dr. Samata Sharma of Harvard University, music can increase the connectivity of certain brain regions and has therapeutic power for psychiatric and neurological conditions, like Parkinson’s disease. Such benefits are documented in Oliver Sacks’ book Musicophilia. This draws on neuroplasticity, the ability of the brain to make new connections, as demonstrated by V.S. Ramachandran in “The Tell-Tale Brain,” which refutes views that those connections are immutable.
One can generate tunes ad lib. Even deaf people can enjoy music by sensing the vibrations.
There are only 12 basic notes, but the number of melodies seems, “almost infinite.” Using 12-note sequences, one can generate 216 sextillion melodies, according to Damien Reihl and Noah Rubin, as quoted by Alexis C. Madrigal in The Atlantic. Still, it may be difficult to avoid unwittingly writing melodies that someone else already wrote, leading to possible suits over copyright infringement. I make melodies up all the time. I can’t be objective about whether they are good or original. I would have to check them using an online or hard-copy index of first lines. Any series of numbers can be translated into a melody, and I have used this fact to advantage in memorizing PIN’s and telephone numbers. I have thought of making a “symphony” of the melodies from kitchen appliances. The dishwasher goes: 3–1–3–1–3–1. I can work that into a nice waltz! A friend had a phone number with 5–9–3–8–7 (sol-re-mi-do-ti), and that made a reasonable tune, with some elaboration. I wish I knew an easy way to jot melodies down, as one writes notes about ideas and things to do.
The music that we know best is based on the diatonic scale, do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-ti-do, consisting of whole and half steps, and corresponding with the white keys on a piano in the key of C. The diatonic scale can also be obtained by using a chain of six perfect fifths. Starting with C, if we go up a fifth, we reach the note G. In terms of physics, the ratio of the frequency of the note G to C is theoretically 1.5, but in actuality it is not: some approximations are involved in generating the diatonic scale. One continues in this fashion: G, D, A, E, and B, and down a fifth from C to F, to complete the scale. There are other scales as well, minor scales, the modes of Gregorian chants, the pentatonic scale, etc. In a whole tone scale, there are only whole steps, thus only 7 notes (including 2 dos) rather than the 8 in the traditional octave. This creates a dreamy sound consistent with impressionism. Several composers experimented with it, notably including Debussy, as in his Prelude called Voiles (Sails). One can imagine odd scales, in which the octave is divided, say, into 6 intervals, or 11, or whatever. However, our instincts in this matter appear to follow the simple physical ratios of the cycle of fifths, and such scales seem unnatural, although theoretically they could be sung or played on a violin (but not on a conventional piano).
Minor keys are associated with sadness. For example, the verse to George Gershwin’s “Oh, Lady Be Good”, begins, fittingly, with the phrase “Listen to my tale of woe” in a minor key, but shifts to major as the mood improves. On the other hand, “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” in in a minor key but conveys a cheerful sentiment: “Let nothing you dismay…” The same goes for “My Favorite Things”; it too turns major at the end.
Also, we should consider the different but related concepts of atonality and dissonance. Dissonance comprises sounds or musical notes that are not pleasant when heard together. George Antheil’s composition “Ballet Mecanique” is not only dissonant, but employs airplane propellers as musical instruments! Atonal music is music that does not respect any key. Alban Berg wrote music that was atonal, e.g. the opera “Lulu”. They may be grating, but one can adapt to atonality and dissonance.
Rhythm too is important. We are accustomed to pieces with 2, 4, 3 or six beats to a measure, but there are deviations from this, which may be slightly jarring. Dave Brubeck’s jazz is famous for this, as in his piece “Take Five” with five beats to a measure. The Promenade from Modest Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition has a sequence of measures with 5 followed by 6 beats, and it somehow conveys a sense of walking. Another rhythmic variation is syncopation. This is a shifting of the normal accent, usually by stressing the normally unaccented beats. This deviates from a rigid rhythm and creates an agreeable sense of wanting to move, as in foot-tapping or dancing (called “groove”). This is exemplified by ragtime music like Scott Joplin’s Easy Winners. It is called ragtime because of the ragged quality of syncopated rhythms. It is also well illustrated in Leroy Anderson’s “Syncopated Clock.”
There is yet another deviation from the fundamental pattern of regular melody and rhythm that we are used to. That is the modern phenomenon of rap or hip hop music, a rhythmic changing style that was developed by inner-city African Americans and Latino Americans in New York City in the 1970s. This was not, however, the first instance speaking, rather than singing, in Western music. The talking blues is an earlier and unrelated form from the early 20th Century, exemplified by Woody Guthrie, with the tradition continued by Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan. In Seeger’s hands it became an instrument of political protest, thus:
“Now, if you want higher wages, let me tell you what to do
You got to talk to the workers in the shop with you
You got to build you a union, got to make it strong
But if you all stick together, boys, it won’t be long
You’ll get shorter hours, better working conditions, vacations with pay … take your kids to the seashore.”
Sprechstimme is a vocal technique between singing and speaking. Alban Berg used it in his atonal opera Lulu.
https://www.careersinmusic.com/song-structure/
Music has form or structure, such. This applies to both classical and popular music, but I shall discuss it with reference to popular music. AABA form, also known as 32-bar song form, consists of a twice-repeated strophe (AA), followed by a contrasting bridge (or release) (B), followed by another repetition of the initial strophe (A). An example is the classic, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by Harold Arlen. The A section goes: “Somewhere over the rainbow/Way up high..” and repeats with different words, and then launches into the bridge, (“Someday I’ll wish upon a star…”) and returns to the A section before concluding. An exception in classical music is Maurice Ravel’s Bolero, which has an insistent repetition of its theme, creating a haunting effect. Another form is theme and variations, such as Sergei Rachmaninoff’s “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini”.
Another structural feature of popular music is the division into verse and chorus. The verse gives the listener an idea of what the song is about and the chorus conveys the main idea of the song. Sometimes, in performances, the verse is left out, but often it seems quite integral to the song. A good example is George Gershwin’s “Lady Be Good”. The verse goes, “Listen to my tale of woe…”, describing the singer’s eagerness to find a lady, and is resolved, in both words and music, by the sparkly chorus: “Oh, sweet and lovely lady be good…”.
Anthony Tommasini, in his book, “The Indispensable Composers,” lists 15 composers, including Bach, Mozart, Chopin, Brahms and Debussy, who are also favorites of mine. I love Bach’s cantata, “Sheep May Safely Graze;” Mozart’s Piano Concerto №21 In C, 2nd Movement (the “Elvira Madigan” concerto, used in the Swedish movie of that name); Beethoven “Rasumovsky” String Quartet No 7 Op 59 No 1, 1st movement; Chopin’s Ballade #4, Brahms “A German Requiem” and Debussy’s “Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune.” However, some of my favorite melodies are by other composers, my favorite being Borodin’s nocturne from the third movement of his String Quartet №2 in D, which was the source of the hauntingly beautiful popular song, “And This Is My Beloved” from the 1953 musical Kismet. Close to it in beauty, in my opinion, is the melody from the Polovtsian Dances in the Borodin’s opera Prince Igor, which was turned into the song “”Stranger in Paradise,” also from Kismet. Another is the 18th Variation in Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, which inverts the well-known theme of Paganini’s Caprice №24 in A minor for violin to excellent effect. In popular music, I like “Lara’s Theme” from “Dr. Zhivago” and the theme for the movie “Amarcord”.
Almost musical pieces end with notes consistent with the tonic chord, do-mi-sol or 1–3–5, giving a sense of resolution and finality and serving as the focus for both melody and harmony, and most begin with it. Borodin’s Nocturne starts with a tonic chord and the note do, but then deviates from it. However, the melody from the Polovtsian Dances starts with notes in a minor supertonic chord (re-fa-la), but quickly makes a natural progression to dominant and tonic chords, consistent with the cycle of fifths. Therein lies its charm, starting with a pleasant but unresolved series of notes and moving to resolution. Tommasini makes no mention of Borodin, which surprises me. On the other hand, he finds Grieg charming but not great, and so do I. There are appealing melodies by him, including the first movement of his Piano Concerto in A minor, Erotik and Nottorno. These share the feature of beginning notes that descend from high do to sol, lending them a wistful, plaintive and beckoning quality, but also embodying a certain monotony.
There is plenty of room for humor in music. Victor Borge and Anny Russell were wonderful musical comedians. Classical music can be converted to jazz with good effect as in the Swingle Singers’ “Bach’s Greatest Hits”. Likewise, rock music can effectively be converted to classical as in “The Baroque Beatles Book” by Joshua Rifkin.
Funny words have also been applied to classical pieces. For the first movement of Grieg’s Piano Concerto in A Minor, they are, “Did you bring the pickles, pickles, pickles? Did you bring the onions, onions, onions?” as though it was about a picnic. Somehow it fits. Joseph Haydn’s Symphony №94 in G Major is known as the “Surprise Symphony” because of a startlingly loud chord in the second movement. A facetious song set to that melody goes: “Papa Haydn’s dead and gone/But his memory lingers on…” Papa was an affectionate name given to him, perhaps because he was a prolific and influential composer, who lived to the ripe old age of 77. Many famous composers had somewhat shorter lives. His contemporary, Mozart, who composed in a similar classical style, and to whom Haydn may have been a mentor, lived to only 35. It is a sobering thought that when Mozart was my age, he had been dead for 50 years! Another work that has a distinctive idiosyncrasy is Schubert’s Symphony №8 in B minor, called the “Unfinished Symphony” because, for some unknown reason, he never got around to finishing it. Words have been set to the familiar main melody of the first movement, as follows: “This is the symphony that Schubert never finished.” Give the guy a break! Did you finish everything you every started? Anyway, it was given a sort of immortality in an old popular song, “You Are My Song of Love.”
I have had fun with music, singing and playing the piano and running musical sessions including singalongs. I am mathematically inclined, and, while I am not immune to the subjective charms of music, I have tended to play up the technical aspects.
In keeping with that, using a digital piano and appropriate software, I have been able to put music into my computer and process it as one would do to text using a word-processor — transposing, changing the instrument, e.g. piano, or guitar, etc., thus enabling use for performing and singalongs.
