Exploring Music with No Melody, part 2

In part one, we compared a ridiculous number (20) of definitions of the word, melody, and came up with our own, functional-but-flawed definition (a sequence of notes), eventually arriving at the question at the core of these music with no melody blog posts:

 Does good music require a strong, singable “tune” in the foreground? 

In part two, we conclude this discussion and examine a variety of works in which a foreground melody is not a primary organizing principle. There is a description of a composition project relating to this topic for my students at the end.

Discussion of the above question:

"In the foreground," means that the "tune" is front and centre, the musical aspect that most prominently gives the composition its identity. When we think of Yesterday (the Beatles song), Jingle Bells, Mendelssohn's Wedding March, Star Wars (main theme), or Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, we may think of many facets of these pieces (instrumentation, rhythms, our emotional responses to them, etc.), but it is likely that the aspect of these compositions that first pops into our head is the tune.

However, there are, perhaps surprisingly, numerous compositions whose most prominent and memorable aspect is probably not the “tune," and yet we consider them to be "good." Or even great!

Here are some of them; the first two have audio clips beneath the music examples, the remaining ones are all videos, some with scrolling scores:

J. S. Bach, Prelude 1, WTC I, BWV 846

If audio player not visible, click here to listen

L. van Beethoven, Symphony 7, II: Alegretto (pno. reduction)

Schoenberg — Farben (#3 of Five Pieces for Orchestra, also called "Summer Morning by a Lake: Chord Colours"; 1908)

A. Webern, Variations for Piano, op. 27, II

Glenn Gould's performance of the Webern is above; if you haven't heard it, I strongly recommend having a listen (and watch the hand crossings in the second movement, which starts at 1:31). It's very short, as is the case in all Webern music.


Next is another short one, Ligeti, Etudes for Piano, Book 1, No 2:




Howard Bashaw, Prelude no. 5; watch the pianist's hands:




Next is Messiaen, Petites esquisses d'oiseaux:




And after Messiaen, it makes sense to listen to some Toru Takemitsu music. This is Riverrun:



Morton Feldman, Piano And String Quartet (it's an hour and 20 minutes long, so get comfortable!):




Philip Glass's music very much belongs in this discussion; this is Glassworks:

These are just some of many compositions that don't have a melody, or "tune," as most people understand those words, as a prominent, foreground feature. There's also an entire genre of music in which this is also the case, which is called Spectralism, music that uses sound spectra or tone colour as a fundamental organizing principle. I wrote a blog about spectral music music a few years ago; click here if you wish to learn more about it. That post also has more music videos by other composers to check out.

In spectralism, as well as in all the above examples, composers found ways of drawing our attention to musical aspects other than melody. These aspects included continuous motion broken chords (Bach, Ligeti), repetitive arpeggios (Feldman), a focus on musical colour and/or sound masses (Schoenberg, Messiaen, Takemitsu, spectralism, Feldman), pointillism (Webern), arpeggios with interjected bird call emulations (Messiaen), fast, angular writing with repeated motives (Bashaw), static minimalism (Schoenberg, Feldman),  and pulsed minimalism with oscillating figures (Glass).

Composition project:  Write three short pieces for piano and one other instrument, in which melody is not a predominant feature. Each piece should approach this challenge in a different way. You can borrow techniques from any of the pieces cited above, or cited in my Spectralism blog, or from any other pieces, or you can come up with your own original solutions to this challenge. The harmonic language cannot be traditional tonality, but this does not exclude the use of traditional sonorities.

---

UPDATE (2019): Here are more examples, suggested by, and with huge thanks to,  Robert Humber:

Rautavaara: Symphony No. 7, "Angel of Light"

Another piece by György Ligeti; this one's a modern classic: Lux Aeterna

Check out Symphony No. 1 (1951) by Henri Dutilleux; melodic fragments abound, but they don't really coalesce into what most of us would call a tune:




And here's another Robert Humber suggestion: Chukrum, by Giacinto Scelsi:

And finally, Child, by David Lang, part I: My Very Empty Mouth:

If you have any other suggestions of works that belong to this category, please share them via the "comments" section below!

Exploring Music with No Melody, part 1

Does good music require a melody? Does the melody have to be something memorable that we can sing or whistle after having heard it? And what exactly do we mean by “melody?”

Let’s take these questions one at a time, but in reverse order:

1. What is melody?

Compare these definitions of melody:

Oxford Dictionaries:

1. A sequence of single notes that is musically satisfying; a tune.
2. The aspect of musical composition concerned with the arrangement of single notes to form a satisfying sequence.
3. The principal part in harmonized music

Dictionary.com:

4. Musical sounds in agreeable succession or arrangement.
   
5. The succession of single tones in musical compositions, as distinguished from harmony and rhythm.
6. The principal part in a harmonic composition; the air.
7. A rhythmical succession of single tones producing a distinct musical phrase or idea.

Merriam-Webster.com:

8. A pleasing series of musical notes that form the main part of a song or piece of music.
9. A song or tune
10. A sweet or agreeable succession or arrangement of sounds; tunefulness.
11. A rhythmic succession of single tones organized as an aesthetic whole.

More from Dictionary.com:
12. A pleasing succession or arrangement of sounds.
13. A rhythmically organized sequence of single tones so related to one another as to make up a particular phrase or idea.
14. Structure with respect to the arrangement of single notes in succession.
15. The leading part or the air in a composition with accompaniment.
16. A succession of notes forming a distinctive sequence; tune.
17. The horizontally represented aspect of the structure of a piece of music.
18. The perception of pleasant arrangements of musical notes.
19. A rhythmical succession of musical tones organized as a distinct phrase or sequence of phrases.
20. Musically satisfying sequences of notes collectively

Well, the range of definitions is impressive! The closest thing to a common denominator in these definitions is that melody is a sequence (or succession, or series) of notes (tones, sounds). [The word sequence in these definitions simply means succession, not a musical sequence.]

I find it both surprising and odd that so many definitions include words like satisfying, agreeable, pleasant, and pleasing; it seems problematic to attach an emotional response to the definition of melody. 

If a melody is musically dissatisfying to someone, does that mean it's not a melody? Melody can be described in many ways — satisfying or dissatisfying, good or bad, aimless or purposeful, pointillistic or linear, chaotic or predictable, sparse or dense — without changing the fact that it is still a melody. One person's "bad" or "dissatisfying" melody may be another's "good" or "satisfying melody, but in either case, it's a melody. Subjective terms do not belong in the definition. 

My feeling is that a sequence of notes is a somewhat functional, albeit imperfect, definition of melody, because it allows debate on the relative merits or satisfaction-level of melodies without invalidating a melody or entire composition just because we don’t find it pleasant or satisfying. 

The problem, unfortunately, is that this definition — a sequence of notes — doesn't really tell us very much; is any sequence of notes a melody? This is debatable of course, but I suspect most people would say, for example, that a succession of pitches randomly selected from the 88 notes of a piano, with random durations, spaces in between, and dynamics, is not the kind of musical line we associate with the word melody. But perhaps for some people it is.

2. Does a melody have to be memorable?

Again, a problem with this question is that “memorable” is a subjective term; what I find memorable, you might not, and vice versa. Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, is memorable. The melody to Scriabin, Prelude, op. 74 no. 2  (below), although very beautiful, perhaps less so (this is very short – only slightly longer than a minute – so, if you don't know this lovely miniature, please have a listen):

There are types of music, such as pop or musical theatre, in which it is particularly important that the melody be memorable.  More generally, it seems likely that most compositions that we enjoy have memorable melodies, but, at least in classical music, the entire piece is not likely to be equally memorable.

Symphonic development sections, for example, don’t need to be memorable; they just need to take the listener for a ride (sometime a wild one) to places where fragments of melodies sound familiar, but are used in unfamiliar contexts and often unstable harmonies.  Most people probably find it challenging to leave a symphonic performance humming the development section, but we don't hold that against a great symphony. For music geeks like me, classical development sections can be enthralling to hear and study, even if more memorable (and more complete) melodies come in the exposition (first section).   

3. Does good music require a melody, memorable or otherwise? 

Well, here we have to backtrack a little; if the question is, does good music require a "sequence of notes," then it seems that the answer is usually yes: Good music typically has notes, and they are typically in a sequence of some sort.  (Well thanks, Captain Obvious, you may be thinking…)

But even here there are exceptions, such as John Cage’s 4’ 33” (Spoiler alert: It has no notes), and non-pitched electronic music, particularly musique concrète. 

So let’s revise this question, because doing so will get us closer to the objectives of the composition project at the end of part 2 of these Exploring Music with No Melody blogs:

3®. Does good music require a strong, singable “tune” in the foreground? 

— See part 2 for the continuation of this discussion, with lots of music videos.

On the "hatred" of modern classical music due to the brain's inability to cope...

Last week I posted a link to an article in The Telegraph (UK) entitled, "audiences hate modern classical music because their brains cannot cope."  The subheading of the article states: "Modern classical music is so widely disliked by audiences because the human brain struggles to find patterns it needs to understand the compositions as music."

Note that somewhere between the headline and the sub-heading, modern classical music has gone from being "hated" to "widely disliked." At least things are looking up!

My thoughts on the article:

1. What is meant by "modern classical music?"  Schoenberg (who died in 1951) is cited seven times, and Webern (who died in 1945) once; no other twentieth-century or present-day composers are mentioned.  This suggests no awareness whatsoever of the "modern" classical music scene.  If this article had been written in 1930, it would make sense to cite Schoenberg and Webern as representatives of (only) one stream of modern classical music, but even then it would have been a very narrow cross-section of the composers active at that time, which also included Vaugh Williams, Rachmaninoff, Ives, Holst, Ravel, De Falla, Bartok, Prokofiev, Gershwin, Copland, Khachaturian, and Shostakovich. Equating "modern classical music" with "the music of Schoenberg and Webern" in 2010 is beyond perplexing; it is bizarre.
2. Where is the evidence for audience "hatred" or "wide dislike" of modern classical music? None is given.
   
   Don't get me wrong; I am not living in some alternate universe in which people never express antipathy towards contemporary classical music. Quite the opposite, in fact! I am suggesting that the article in question takes this view as a given, without any attempt to substantiate it.  I have certainly heard people say they don't like contemporary classical music, but I have also heard the same said about medieval music, classical music in general, rap, jazz, rock & roll...  In fact, I think I have at some point heard just about every musical genre maligned, but none of this constitutes evidence for widespread hatred of these genres.
   
   On the other hand, each musical genre has its own and often substantial following, and contemporary classical music is no different. Consider this:
   
   
   • Compact disc recordings of Henryk Górecki's Symphony No. 3 ("Symphony of Sorrowful Songs") have, according to Wikipedia, sold more than a million copies.
   • According to an article in the New York Times (to which I posted a link in another blog last week), Nonesuch Records cultivates its own version of [an] alternative audience, and has done wonderfully, sometimes selling more than 100,000 copies of CD's by Steve Reich, Philip Glass, Astor Piazzola and the Kronos Quartet, and only slightly less of John Adams.
   • I have witnessed packed houses whooping and hollering their enthusiasm for new classical music numerous times at the Winnipeg New Music Festival.
While none of these things "prove" that modern classical music is overwhelmingly popular, they are among many other indicators suggesting that some of it, at least, has a significant following. Michael Gordon, composer and co-founder of "Bang on a Can," writes: The wonderful guitarist, Mark Stewart, who is a member of the Bang on a Can All-Stars, but who also plays in Paul Simon’s band and on the film scores of Elliot Goldenthal, says “I play three kinds of music: popular, semi-popular, and unpopular.” Mark calls my music and the music of Bang on a Can “semi-popular.” [New York Times, 5 March 2007]

"Semi-popular music;" that gives us all something to aspire to!


3. We often speak of audiences as if they were single, monolithic entities, but they are groups of individuals that typically share some traits, but are distinct from one another in other ways. It is problematic to generalize about what audiences like or dislike; if it were simple, every television show, movie, and pop song would be a hit.
   
   I was a church music director for several years, and I remember once being told that "the congregation finds the music too fast" (or perhaps it was "too loud;" I don't actually remember).  How did we learn what the congregation thought, I wondered; was there an exit poll?  Of course not!  In the subsequent conversation I learned that one individual had complained about the music to one of the priests, and the priest, perhaps sharing the same concerns, had reported it to me.
   
   I don't mean to pick on this priest; I suspect we all have overstated a case on occasion. I have had similar conversations with radio producers, concert producers, etc., who have suggested they know what audiences like and dislike, but upon further discussion it often turns out that they are stating personal preferences, often reinforced by a few others telling them they feel the same way.
   
   Conducting a poll is theoretically a more objective method of finding out what people really think, but interpreting the data gathered through a poll can be a tricky business, potentially flawed by the biasses of the polling organization or individual conducting/interpreting the poll.  
   
   In any event, when a person states that audiences "hate modern classical music," they are not usually conveying the results of a poll; they are often expressing their own personal feelings about modern classical music, possibly based on part on what a few others have told them. This does not constitute evidence in support of their statement.
4. The implication that modern classical music is complex, and the music of Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven isn't, shows a lack of understanding of both older and newer classical music.  There are works of deep complexity by the great composers of centuries past (e.g., late Beethoven quartets, Thomas Tallis' 40-part motet, "Spem in alium," Bach's "Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue" and "The Musical Offering," Chopin's "Prelude in A Minor"(the tonic is not clear until the last chord of the piece), etc.), and there are works of great simplicity by contemporary composers (e.g., Terry Riley's "In C," The New Simplicity movement, much of the music of Arvo Pärt, etc. ).
5. "Mr. Ball believes that many traditional composers such as Mozart, Bach and Beethoven subconsciously followed strict musical formula to produce music that was easy on the ear by ensuring it contained patterns that could be picked out by the brain."  I am curious to know to which "strict musical formula" (sic) Mr. Ball is referring. This tantalizing statement is not explained, although perhaps it is in Mr. Ball's book.

But enough criticism on my part!  Here are some quotes from the article that make good sense to me:

• Phillip Ball: "The brain is a pattern seeking organ, so it looks for patterns in music to make sense of what we hear."
• David Huron (Ohio State University): "Much of what the brain does is to anticipate the future. Predicting what happens next has obvious survival value, and brains are remarkably adept at anticipating events."
• Timothy Jones (Royal Academy of Music): "Mozart and Bach have similar levels of complexity as Schoenberg, but those complexities are in different musical domains. Their music is very information dense. I would question how much of the familiarity with the music of Mozart and Bach has to do with culturalisation rather than an innate cognitive inability to understand the music of composers like Schoenberg. Certain people can learn to appreciate it."

"Culturalization," a term from anthropology meaning "to be exposed or subjected to the influence of culture," is, I believe, a highly-relevant point. Bach and Beethoven are an acquired taste for many; not everyone loves their music the first time they hear it. Similarly, music of unfamiliar cultures or genres can be confusing or perplexing at first, but, through a process of culturalization, we can grow to appreciate and understand it better. Might not the same be said about Schoenberg's music?

The degree to which this article focusses on Schoenberg's music is both strange and troubling.  Strange, because, as mentioned above, his music is not exactly "modern," in the sense of "being of our time," any more, and troubling, because Schoenberg's music was denounced (and, I believe, banned) by the Nazis for being "degenerate" (as was jazz), and this article seems to be suggesting that it is okay, or at least understandable, to hate Schoenberg's music because its purported complexity makes it impossible for most human brains to comprehend.

I don't buy it. But you probably figured that out by now!

Atonal — Even the word sounds unpleasant!

I find above all that the expression, 'atonal music,' is most unfortunate--it is on a par with calling flying 'the art of not falling,' or swimming 'the art of not drowning.' Arnold Schoenberg, Style and Idea, p.210

Do you have an unpleasant connotation with the word, "atonal?"

If you do, you're not alone; many people who have some understanding of what "tonality" means don't seem to feel very warm and fuzzy about the concept of atonality.

But, strictly speaking, all that is meant by the word is that the music in question is not based on tonality. It doesn't really tell us anything about what the music is based on.

A quick primer on tonality, from Wikipedia:

Tonality is a system of music in which specific hierarchical pitch relationships are based on a key "center" or tonic. The term tonalité originated with Alexandre-Étienne Choron (1810) and was borrowed by François-Joseph Fétis in 1840 (Reti, 1958; Simms 1975, 119; Judd, 1998; Dahlhaus 1990). Although Fétis used it as a general term for a system of musical organization and spoke of "types de tonalités" rather than a single system, today the term is most often used to refer to Major-Minor tonality (also called diatonic tonality, common practice tonality, or functional tonality), the system of musical organization of the common practice period, and of Western-influenced popular music throughout much of the world today. [Emphasis mine.]

The "common practice period" is generally understood to refer to the baroque, classical, and romantic periods of European music history, roughly spanning 1600 to 1900. So, using this definition, "atonal" could be applied to medieval plainchant, renaissance masses, most Debussy piano preludes, etc., or it could be referring to a work that involves hitting the keys of a piano with an aluminum (so as not to mar the surface of the bat) baseball bat with reckless abandon. It could be referring to "Le Marteau Sans Maitre" by Pierre Boulez, or to "L'histoire du Soldat" by Igor Stravinsky, or to minimalist works by Steve Reich, Philip Glass, and John Adams, or even parts of "Toontown Follies" by yours truly.

It could refer to music that is as deeply moving and beautiful as any music ever composed, or it could be applied to very harsh, disturbing music.

"Atonal" doesn't necessarily equate with "highly dissonant" any more than "tonal" automatically means "consonant." Dissonance and consonance are essential aspects of tonality, but they are essential aspects of much atonal music as well.

Explore the various sonorities that can be created by the scales and modes that you created for our first project of the semester. There is no ban on the use of major or minor triads; I am hoping that your scales will lead you to discover other sonorities that you like and feel can be used in your compositions, and if some of the sonorities happen to be major or minor, so be it! No problem!

But just try to use them in ways that go beyond their use in the context of tonality.