A Discussion of Sonata Form

Well, I feel that before I delve into the Classical period, I must insert a post here to sort of lay down some important ideas.

If you remember the Baroque post, you'll remember I said that the crowning achievement of the Baroque period, when it came to musical forms, was the fugue. Well, the glory of the Classical period's forms was the sonata form.

I feel that a discussion of this is very well merited, because with a proper knowledge of sonata form, understanding Classical music, and even the music of today, is made much easier. And when you understand it, you enjoy it more. :)

Before we begin, though, I must add this: do not confuse sonata form, with a sonata, something which also came into being during the Classical period. There is a difference between the two. And the difference is really fairly simple. The word sonata means "something that is played", as compared to a cantata, or "something that is sung". A sonata is basically a piece for a solo instrument, consisting of generally three to four different movements. But when I say sonata form, I am referring to something else.

Sonata form is a way of composing, and, in turn, of listening to a piece of music. It is the form a piece of music takes. This could be any piece of music. A concert piece for three oboes and a cello could be written in sonata form; or the third movement of a symphony; or the first movement of a concerto. Anything. What's important is that you understand that sonata form doesn't really mean a sonata, and generally only refers to one piece of music, like one movement of something. An entire symphony is not written in sonata form. At least not that I know of...

The easiest way to understand sonata form is to think of writing a paper. In school, they tell you that the best way to write is to have a good outline to follow. Well, when we're writing music, we have many pre-set outlines to choose from; and one of them is called sonata form. And, like an outline you would use to write something in school, sonata form is flexible. "Don't let your outline be too rigid," teachers tell you, "but use your outline as a tool to help you write. You can change your outline." Sonata form is the same.

The outline of sonata form consists of five main points: Introduction, Exposition, Development, Recapitulation, and Coda. These are the backbone of the sonata form. And they all serve a distinct purpose. So you can better see these purposes, let's pretend that we've decided to write a piano concerto in C major. We're just starting into the first movement, we've looked at possible ways to write it, and we have chosen to put it in sonata form. We've fiddled around on the piano, and come up a few good tunes we want to put in our piece. It's going to be good.

We start with the Introduction. This has an obvious function. It introduces the piece. It doesn't necessarily have to introduce the themes of the music, though often it does, and it helps to add weight to the piece. It generally serves to capture the attention of the audience and set the key and mood of the music. However, even though our theme is bright and quick, we decide to make our introduction slow and quiet, but with a slight anticipatory feel; it will make a good contrast, and lead well into the theme.

Now the Exposition comes, and with it comes the best part: the themes of our piece. Themes in sonata form are divided into theme group A and theme group B. These are the tunes we came up with, the ones we want the audience to remember; the actual themes of our movement. So when the orchestral introduction is over, our lively theme group A comes trumpeting in on the piano. Generally these themes are stated in the key of the piece. Since our key is C major, the first theme plays through in C major. We have played around with our main tune long enough to know that it leads well into another smaller tune that we like, and so that also comes in as a part of group A. We are still in C major, and the feel of our piece has not changed; it's still bright and cheery.

It is now time, however (so our piece won't get boring), to shift a little. We've gone through our happy, group A themes, and now, for the sake of contrast, we want to go into something slower and prettier. We have come up with a couple of great tunes for this part. But we also don't want the audience to get tired of C major. So we have to modulate to a new key. Now for a long time, the rule was that you modulated from I to IV when you got to this part in sonata form. (If you don't know what that means, just know that the Roman numerals are the common way of notating chordal relationships in music. If 'I' represents the home key of the piece, in this case C, then 'IV' must be four steps up from that, or F. If we were in E, we'd go up four steps to A.) This was the proper relationship to make between the keys of your group A themes and your group B themes. So, not wanting to go against the wisdom of the men who laid down such rules, we decide to make our slow, pretty theme in F. We manage to modulate to F, and our pretty theme plays on the piano, with gentle woodwinds in the background, and it is followed by another smaller tune that we think works well after it. These is theme group B. And the Exposition is now complete. All of our themes have been played. We have had our main group A theme, plus a secondary A theme, and our main group B theme, plus a secondary B theme.

It is customary (but of course not mandatory) to repeat the Exposition. This way, the audience can really digest the themes. If they know they've heard something before, they'll listen to it, and enjoy it more. They know they're beginning to learn the themes. In some cases, the Introduction is included in the repeat. We decide not to do that, because our introduction carried no real thematic material, and the quiet ending of our slow theme already provides the contrast with our first theme that the intro did. So we repeat the Exposition.

Now that all of our tunes have played through twice, we can have some fun with them. The next part of sonata form is called the Development. This section will develop the themes we have just stated. Since we ended in F major, our development will start in that key. We look at what we have done so far. Our exposition has ended after the B themes have died softly away, and now, to add contrast, and to open up the Development, we take the first few notes of our primary A theme, and let the trumpets blare them out. But, instead of having them continue and play the rest of the theme, we decide to stop them suddenly, and have the piano interrupt them with a large, unexpected chord. The trumpets, not willing to take such a rude interruption, begin again, this time in a different key perhaps. But the piano answers back with another chord. And so on. We are now developing the first few notes of our theme. Playing around with them.

However, this pattern might get old quickly, so we decide to give the audience the satisfaction of finally hearing that whole main theme. The trumpets get to have their say. Now the expected thing is for us to go into that secondary A theme that worked so well after our main theme. We do so, but this time, we change the time signature, and give it a more dance-like feel. It'd be really great if, while this is happening, the strings came in every now and then with the first opening chords of our main B theme.

See? Now we're really starting to develop things. We can take any part of our tunes, or the whole thing if we wish, and see what happens when we do such-and-such to it. If the audience is attentive enough, they'll catch these subtle references and it makes it a lot of fun for them.

Well, our development has been getting pretty tense. We've messed around with all our themes, and now we're building up and looking forward to the next section, the Recapitulation. This is where all of our themes will be reassembled and played through for the last time. We just have one task: we've got to get back to our home key, C major. So we work out a clever modulation from the key we've found ourselves in, and the development finally gives way to the Recapitulation, and our exuberant, primary A theme.

Everything in this section happens the same way it did in the Exposition. This means easy work for us. We just copy everything over. There is, however, one thing that must change. Everything now has to stay in C major. We've come home to this key, and our themes are here to stay. This means a few minor alterations... The biggest change to be made is obviously where we go to F major for our B themes. That can't happen. So we alter our modulation so that it actually doesn't go anywhere, but remains in C. Our B themes can now play through, like they did the first time, but now they stay in C.

This is really great so far. We've introduced the piece, played the themes, developed them, and now we're tying up all the loose ends with a final statement of the themes in the home key. But since all good things must come to an end, we have to write the last section, the Coda.

The Coda is really just the ending. It can be long, short, however we want it. We want it to be big and happy. We add a little alteration to the ending of our B themes, so they don't just die away, but they now lead into the Coda, a small section that builds and builds in an exciting crescendo, and finally comes crashing down with a massive chord from both the piano and the orchestra.

And there's our piece, written in sonata form. I know that was really lengthy, but it was worth it if you tried to understand it. And it's fairly simple really. Sonata form is just a way of organizing your music. And what's better, if you listen to a piece already knowing it's in sonata form, you know how to listen to it. And that leads to a better appreciation for the piece. Knowledge of sonata form will probably help you when reading my blog too, as I might refer to it here and there.

So thanks for sticking with me through this post. I'll get into the actual Classical period next time, so be sure and check back every now and then. :)

Section 2: The Baroque Period - Bach #2

Well, I figure it's been long enough since I've written another post. This month has been pretty busy, so sorry if I've kept anybody waiting.

We are now ready to move on to Bach's music. I have found that these music sections are somewhat difficult to write. It's hard to find where to start, and when I do find a good place, it's hard to know just how I should go about discussing a particular composer's style.

Especially Bach. Bach is very difficult to compress into a single post. His music was just so vast, and so important. He has managed to live on for centuries, through the impact his music had on later composers, who then impacted later composers, and so on. He had a very great "ripple effect" on music. Obviously, his exact style has now dissipated, but his genius is still felt gently rippling through music today.

Bach's main genius lay in his knowledge of the actual, inner workings of a melody. He had an innate sense about when to write what note, and seemed to understand (here's the genius) why to write what note. He also had knowledge of how a melody reacted when placed over another melody. Simply put, he knew better than anyone ever had, and perhaps ever has, how the little pieces of music fit to make a whole.

But Bach did not limit himself to strict contrapuntal and fugal compositions. That is, he didn't only write very complex, "melody-over-melody" music. Some of his music is, ironically, profoundly simple. Such as a piece we are all familiar with: the Prelude in C Major, from his Well-Tempered Clavier.

This piece never ceases to puzzle me. It's almost too simple, and yet it remains one of Bach's most attractive pieces. I like to place this piece right in the center portion of my art diagram. At its core, it's just a long series broken chords, or arpeggios, changing every measure. But there's much more underneath this piece.

I find there's a certain degree of ambiguity to it. If you were to get sheet music to this piece, you might find (depending on the publisher) that it has no tempo markings, no dynamic markings, no slurs, and no pedal markings. Bach has apparently left the interpretation of his piece completely up to the performer. And the interpretations are certainly varied. Some pianists play it fast, some play it far too slow, in my opinion, others play it staccato, others load it with large amounts of pedal. The search for the correct way to play it almost teases modern pianists, in precisely the same way the Mona Lisa's smile has puzzled people for centuries. It is its innocent insignificance that has caused the most controversy.

The genius of this piece also lies in its underlying premise: one chord leads logically to another. If you want to increase your musical vocabulary, and learn what chords lead to what chords, this is a good piece to check out. All it is is chords leading to chords. Bach just knew what to do next.

And I think another reason (perhaps a more straightforward one) that this piece is popular, lies in its rhythm. It has a lilting, lullaby sound. The chords are always arpeggiated in the same way. Two notes in the left hand, followed by a repeating pattern in the right hand. This eventually gets to be almost hypnotic, in its consistency and swaying motion.

Taking all of this into consideration, I prefer to play this piece at a more relaxed tempo, sort of a walking pace, and never very loud. I feel that the essence of the piece is its enigmatic simplicity, and so I set limits for myself. I only change the tempo very slightly, if ever, and I do not allow myself to go above a certain volume. It's difficult not to accent or bring things out a lot when it gets really beautiful, but I feel this helps preserve the sense that there is something more under the piece that we are not getting.

I am posting a link to a recording of this piece that I like. It took me a while to sift through the ones I didn't like to find it, but here it is. This is the pianist Sviatoslav Richter. Generally, in the pieces I have seen him play, he plays with strength and virtuosity, so it's interesting to hear him do something so intimate. His tempo is a little fast maybe, but his tone is exceptional. It almost sounds like a harp. (This recording also has, after the prelude, the first fugue, and the second prelude and fugue from the Well-Tempered Clavier. The Prelude in C is the first one he plays, but please feel free to listen to the others after it!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0h7UJgVZGk

Now if you did go ahead and listen to all of it, then you got a real treat. The prelude and fugues that followed the first one are just another example of Bach's genius.

Fugal writing was Bach's forte. As I keep saying, he just had an innate, instinctive knowledge of the nature of notes and melodies. I have tried to write a fugue, and it takes a lot of time and thought. I gave up after a while. Bach could improvise them, off the top of his head. They just flowed from him.

And they are works of genius. Each fugue has sometimes several voices, each with its own melodic line. Each line continues through the piece, and the notes weave and mesh together to form the chords, which change and carry the natural flow of the song forward. And its all based on one simple theme.

I have told you that Bach was influential. But you might be wondering how. Fugues are rarely written like Bach's anymore, and he didn't create any new styles of music necessarily. Well I think we see a little glimpse of his influence in what other composers said about him. It is said that Mozart was once shown one of Bach's motets, after which he exclaimed, "Now here is something one can learn from!", and proceeded to look through every available score of Bach's music. Beethoven once called Bach "the original father of harmony". That's interesting. Beethoven and Mozart found that Bach was a sea of knowledge when it came to harmony.

This all goes back to what I said before, about the Baroque period's musical style being horizontal. Bach, it seems, played an enormous role in this shift from horizontal to vertical. Through his knowledge of melody and chords, he composed the summit of Baroque music, and paved the way for later composers, like Mozart, to form the next period of music.

And Bach is still studied today. I recently read an article about jazz music, and the author stated that the best way to learn to write great bass lines was to study the bass lines of Bach. I thought that was interesting.

And lastly, Bach's music was great because he understood the spiritual side of music. He saw the greater circle enclosing the diagram. Many of his scores bear the initials SDG, or Soli Deo Gloria: Only for the glory of God. He did not find himself to be a genius by his own work, and did not wish any of the glory for his compositions to go to himself, but rather, he recognized his gift was from God, and gave Him the glory. Just another reason Bach was great.

Well, that about wraps up our look at some of Bach's music, and of the Baroque period as a whole. I hope this has been as informative so far that is has been for me. :) As I said, Baroque really is not my favorite style, even though a lot was changing in music during the time period. But next post, we get to start heading into another great period of change and development: the Classical period. We'll get to see about composers like Mozart and Beethoven and Schubert. Great composers, who, like Bach, took the music of their day, raised it to another level, and through their influence, opened the door to the next style. I'm excited already.

Section 2: The Baroque Period - Bach #1

I told you a couple posts ago that the year 1685 was an important one in Baroque music because in that year two of the period's greatest composers were born. And I've told you about Handel, so it's now time to move on to the other composer: Johann Sebastian Bach.

No discussion of the Baroque period would ever be complete or even really any good without at least a mention of Bach. Bach is widely considered to be the greatest Baroque composer, and one of the greatest composers of all time. He was a true genius. He took everything that had been happening and stirring throughout the Baroque period and finally brought it to full bloom. Baroque music reached its pinnacle in Bach.

Bach was born in Germany just one month after Handel, on March 31, to a family of musicians. His father was the director of a group of town musicians, his uncles were composers, and his brother was the organist at a church in Ohrdruf. This family appreciation for the art meant he had a much easier time studying music than Handel. Bach's own father taught him to play the violin and harpsichord.

When he was 10, his father died, and Bach set out to Ohrdruf to live with his oldest brother, Johann Christoph. His brother taught him to play the clavichord (an early type of piano), and Bach also had the chance to study his brother's organ music. He would often sit and copy the scores his brother had, and learned much of the organ from this exercise. His brother also introduced him to the many popular musical styles of the day.

When he was 14, Bach set out with a friend on a long journey to the city of Luneburg, where he was to study and sing in the a cappella choir at St. Michael's School. Here again, Bach was exposed to music and culture. He studied math and science, learned French and Italian, and probably played on the famous organ at the Church of St. John. Bach was also just beginning to make a name for himself among musicians due to his apparently innate sense of the organ, and of music in general.

In 1703, when Bach was 17, he accepted the position of organist at St. Boniface's Church in Arnstadt. Word of his skill at the keyboard had spread, and he was already starting to compose complex preludes for the organ. As time wore on, however, Bach began to feel his musical skills were being stifled in Arnstadt. He constantly complained of the choir's lack of talent, and tensions mounted between Bach and the authorities when he took an unannounced trip of many months to visit Buxtehude, the famous German organist whom Bach idolized.

Finally, in 1706, Bach was offered (and quickly accepted) a far better position; one with a fine salary, and a fine choir besides. He was now the organist at St. Blasius's Church in Muhlhausen. Here Bach was offered a far greater chance to stretch his compositional skills than at Arnstadt. The church even agreed to do an expensive repair of the organ at his bidding. Bach also married Maria Barbara Bach, his second cousin, in Muhlhausen. Together they had seven children. Three of them died before reaching adulthood, but two of the remaining four, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, and Wilhelm Friedemann Bach, became famous composers later.

After just a year in Muhlhausen, Bach was once again offered another job. The salary was better still, and instead of being simply the organist, Bach would become the Duke of Weimar's concertmaster, head over a large group of professionally trained musicians. The offer was too good to pass up, and in 1708, Bach moved his family to Weimar.

During the next several years in Weimar, Bach's true genius began to show. Given the opportunity to work with the Duke's musicians, Bach began to compose large-scale orchestral works, as well as volumes of works for the keyboard. He music was a combination of the popular Italian music of the day and his own German styles; he also furiously began his massive output of fugues. Some of his most well-known and well-loved works were written here in Weimar: The Well-Tempered Clavier, a set of preludes and fugues in every key on the keyboard, and the Little Organ Book, a book of popular hymns set in virtuostic settings, to aid practicing organists.

For whatever reason, Bach eventually found himself clashing once again with his employers, and in 1717 (the same year Handel was composing his Water Music), Bach left Weimar to work for Leopold, Prince of Kothen. Prince Leopold gave him far more musical freedom than the others had, although their religious differences (Leopold was a Calvinist, and Bach was a Lutheran) meant Bach wrote more secular works, such as the famous Brandenburg Concertos, during his time in Kothen.

In 1720, Bach's wife, Anna Barbara, died suddenly while he was away. The next year, however, Bach met Anna Magdalena Wilcke. She was a very talented soprano who worked at the court; she was also 17 years younger than Bach. But they married, and had thirteen children, six of whom made it to adulthood, and of those six, three became famous musicians.

In 1723, Bach was made Cantor of Thomasschule and Director of Music over several churches in Leipzig. He managed to hold on to this position for the rest of his life, although there was some friction once or twice between Bach and his employers. A constant source of irritation for the composer was that the Council would only pay for 8 permanent musicians, and if he wanted more, Bach himself had to hire them from the nearby university.

At the school, Bach was in charge of teaching the students to sing, and for the churches he was required to provide weekly music. This meant his output of religious works increased, and this period in his life saw the composition of numerous cantatas and motets.

In addition to his liturgical works, Bach broadened his musical repertoire even more when, in 1729, he became director of the Collegium Musicum, a group of university musicians who, twice a week, provided concerts at Zimmerman's Coffeehouse near the marketplace. Bach composed several works for the ensemble to perform during his relationship with them.

In 1733, Bach wrote a Kyrie and a Gloria (usual components of a Mass), and eventually combined them with pieces of previous cantatas to form his monumental work Mass in B Minor. This is widely considered to be one of the finest works of the Baroque period, and among the greatest choral works ever written. The exact reasons why Bach, being a Lutheran, would compose a Mass remain unknown, and are often debated. But whatever the reasons, the contribution the work has made to music is undisputed.

By this time in his life, Bach had fully made himself known to be the emperor of fugue. His knowledge of contrapuntal music was, and still is, unparalleled among composers. In 1747, Bach visited King Frederick II of Prussia. The king proudly showed Bach his newly acquired instrument, a piano, the keyboard instrument that was just beginning to gain popularity. As a test of his skills, Frederick played a small tune for Bach on the piano and challenged him to compose a three-voice fugue based on the theme. Bach sat down and played one on the spot. The king, not to be outdone so easily, then challenged Bach to expand his work into a six-voice fugue. Such a work would be hugely complex and intricate. Bach replied that he would need some time.

Two months later he published a large work entitled The Musical Offering, a collection of two fugues (one of which had the requested six voices), ten canons (a work similar to a round, like "Row, Row, Row Your Boat") and a four-movement trio, all based on a slightly modified version of the king's theme. The work contains several examples of Bach's wit and of his genius. Many of the canons are written to be played over themselves upside-down, backwards, transposed, and even combinations of the three.

Another highly important work composed (but never finished) during these last years of Bach's life was The Art of Fugue. It contains 18 fugues and canons on one single theme, and is often viewed as the peak of contrapuntal writing.

Bach's health had been declining. By 1749, he was fast becoming blind, and agreed to have eye surgery. The surgery was performed by John Taylor, who would later perform a similar surgery on Handel. In both cases, the surgery was unsuccessful, and vision was lost.

Bach, now on his deathbed, dictated his last complete work to his son-in-law. Vor deinen Thron tret ich hiermit or Before Thy throne I now appear is often played at the end of concerts to complete the unfinished Art of Fugue. The final three notes of the piece, when counted and mapped out into the Roman alphabet, state the initials: J S B. He died on July 28, 1750, at the age of 65.

So that's the life of Johann Sebastian Bach. As I said, he is perhaps the greatest composer to grace to Baroque age, and among the greatest of all time, as far as his sheer musical genius is concerned. His instinct with music was unmatched. But I don't want to get too far ahead of myself. That's all for the next post...

Section 2: The Baroque Period - Handel #2

We've now covered the life of one of the Baroque period's greatest composer contributions. We've seen that Handel was hugely popular among all classes of people, and was successful financially, and socially. And now we have to ask why? What about his music made it so popular?

Well I think part of the answer is that he had a gift in creating attractive musical lines. Handel's music is fun to listen to. His melodies are invariably catchy, and often exhibit wonderful examples of musical humor.

Handel loved to play with notes. In Messiah, we can see an example of this in a melody for Isaiah 40:4 "Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low: and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain."

When the lyrics reach the word "mountain", the music soars to a high note and then plummets down an octave to symbolize the shape of a mountain. With "hill", he uses three notes in a hill-shaped pattern. For "crooked", he uses two alternating notes before finally bringing them to rest for the word "straight". These little "word paintings" are a part of what makes Handel's music fun. Here's a link to a recording of this song, so you can check it out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCRmvoM_Eqo

Another reason Handel's music is so enjoyable is his use of special musical effects. He would often go beyond an audiences expectations of what a melody was going to do next, by holding a note out for a great length of time, suddenly striking a heavy, accented note, etc. In Music for the Royal Fireworks, he frequently utilizes the drums to accent the huge chords in the song. It must have created an amazing experience for the audience to see the glittering fireworks exploding and feel the pounding of Handel's music accompanying the show. Mozart once said of him:

"Handel understands effect better than any of us. When he chooses, he strikes like a thunderbolt."

I think maybe the last reason that people love Handel's music lies in his ability to combine such unique, attractive ideas with great simplicity. Simplicity in music is hard to come by. To achieve just the right amount of movement or suspension is very difficult; but Handel was a master at it. And people loved it. After the complex music of the Renaissance period, simple, yet rousing tunes were exciting and new. Even years later, composers felt the genius behind this aspect of Handel's music. Beethoven said:

"Go to him to learn how to achieve great effects, by such simple means."

So all in all, I think Handel had a gift for melody, effect, and simplicity. He wrote tunes that could get stuck in your head for days. He loved to play with music. And he knew how to best achieve these effects with that all-important simplicity.

I'm posting links to some other of Handel's pieces, just so you can hear some more. :)

This is a video of part of Music for the Royal Fireworks with actual fireworks. You can just feel the excitement here. Just try and imagine what it would have been like way back then, with Handel actually at the podium! (Minus the building catching fire, of course...) This portion of the suite is called "The Rejoicing".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4BQemxvhhDQ

Here's a selection from the oratorio Solomon, a familiar piece called "Arrival of the Queen of Sheba". Notice the excitement. It starts out with glistening arpeggios on the strings, and then the oboes take over with an almost fanfare like motif. There's always something moving in this piece.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLrl-EkssCI

Section 2: The Baroque Period - Handel #1

We have now come to the first of two composers we will be dealing with from the Baroque period. I will only be discussing two, in part because, in all honesty, I don't really know a lot about many Baroque composers. In fact, my last post, which dealt with the period as a whole, contained much information that was new to me and that I didn't know until I actually looked it up and wrote it there. But I'm also only doing two because each of these composers was a giant in his day, and I probably wouldn't be able to stuff in everything that could be said about them if I tried. So there's well enough information with just the two of them.

And just so you are aware, I have decided to divide each composer we talk about into two posts, one dealing with his life, the other dealing with his music. This will make information easier to find, and keep my posts from getting too long. (As might have already happened with some of these...) Naturally, it might happen every once in a while that I deal with a lot of a certain composer's music, or something like that, and he'll be talked about in more than two posts. But for now this is how it will be. :)

The year is 1685. The Baroque period is now only halfway over, and already numerous changes have taken place. Many great composers have begun to shape a new kind of music, a music that will carry its influence through many years to come. It is in this year, however, that the height of the Baroque era will begin. For in this year, two of the greatest composers of the century will be born: George Frideric Handel, and Johann Sebastian Bach.

Handel was born on February 23rd, to a well-to-do family in Halle, Germany. His father was a prominent surgeon, and was 63 years old when his son was born.

From very early in his life, Handel showed great interest in music. His father, however, was less than thrilled at the prospect of his son becoming a musician, and told him that he would rather Handel become a lawyer. Still, the boy found ways to practice, and for a while, managed to sneak up to a top room in the house and play on the harpsichord whenever his father was not around.

Handel's proper introduction to music finally began when his father took him on a trip to visit some relatives who worked for Duke Johann Adolf I. According to popular belief, the Duke overheard Handel playing on his organ, and was so impressed that he urged Handel's father to get his son some musical training. From then, Handel progressed very rapidly in his studies, and by the age of 13 he had become an accomplished organist, had studied multiple styles of composing, and had performed for Frederick I, Duke of Prussia (who would later become King of Prussia).

He continued to study and progress and in 1703, he moved to Hamburg, where he made acquaintances with several prominent composers, and produced his first two operas. In 1706, he moved to Italy at the urging of a friend, and it was there, in 1709, that he gained his first great spotlight in the musical world for his opera, Agrippina. The opera was performed a record 27 times.

In 1710, Handel became the head musician for the Elector of Hanover (who 4 years later would become King George I of England), and finally settled in London in 1712, becoming a full British citizen. In 1717, King George commissioned Handel to compose music for him to listen to as he floated on the River Thames on his royal barge. Thus was produced Handel's Water Music, a set of three suites that would become some of his most popular music. The musicians sat on a separate boat, and floated alongside the King, who loved it so much he ordered the entire concert to be played three times throughout the trip.

Over the next several years, Handel continued to increase his musical output with numerous oratorios (large-scale concert pieces containing soloists, an orchestra, and a choir) and operas. In 1729, Handel became joint-manager of the Queen's Theater where he premiered no less than 25 operas. He wrote Acis and Galatea, a "little opera" as he called it once, which became the most popular and most played of his works during his lifetime.

In 1737, when Handel was 52, he suffered a stroke which left his right arm paralyzed. It was thought that he would never perform or play the organ afterwards, but after six weeks of recovery, he did indeed play again. He continued to compose more operas until 1741, when he found himself in debt from poor financial management. His last opera, Deidamia, was performed three times.

In that same year, Handel sat down with a copy of a libretto by Charles Lennens, and in just 24 days, composed possibly his most famous work, Messiah. The oratorio held its premiere performance in Dublin, Ireland in 1742, and remains immensely popular to this day. It is said that during the first London performance of the work, once the first few notes of the majestic "Hallelujah" chorus sounded, King George II rose to his feet, and the rest of the audience followed suit, starting a tradition that has lasted for 200 years.

In 1749, Handel was commissioned to compose background music for a royal fireworks show, celebrating the end of the War of the Austrian Succession. He held a public rehearsal of his piece, Music for the Royal Fireworks, and thousands of people, desperate to see it, flooded the streets of London. The actual fireworks show was a little bit of a disaster; the building constructed to house the musicians caught fire following the collapse of a large statue of George II. But the music remained hugely popular.

In his latest years, Handel was made a governor of the Foundling Hospital in return for his various donations. His last attended performance was of his Messiah, and in 1759, at the age of 74, he died. He was mourned by thousands at his funeral.

Well, that's the life of Handel. (So much for not having lengthy posts...) I do apologize for the rather "textbook" way I went about telling it. Like I said, I don't know much about these Baroque composers, and much of this information came from the sources I had just looked at. But overall, I think we can see at least a fairly decent picture of a man who, as a composer, enjoyed great financial and social success, which is a trait hard to come by in later years. He donated to several charities, and entertained royalty. He was loved by the masses. But most of all, he understood something about music. He had a unique ability to form communicative and attractive musical ideas. But I'll save that for the next post, when we'll get to delve into his actual compositions...

Section 2: The Baroque Period - Introduction

Our broad look at art and music is now complete. I've tried to define and introduce them to the best of my ability, and now ... it's time to delve deeper into music, to see what we can learn, and discover how it has evolved.

And music has evolved. Although perhaps that should be worded, musical tastes have evolved. Music has technically remained the same. It has always been the people that have changed, made new discoveries, and found what music was underneath the teachings of their time. It was people that broke the rules of music that they had been taught to unearth newer music beyond them. And I think you will see, as we advance through the years, that each period of musical history is represented by new rules being broken, and new musical forms being born. You may not understand all of that completely now, but just keep it in mind. It'll be important.

Now before we get too far into actual composers, and I just dump you into a time period, I feel a little background information about what was happening in the world of music at that time is very necessary.

The word baroque was previously used to refer only to architecture, and wasn't used in a musical context until the year 1919. It comes from a Portuguese word, barroco, and means "misshapen pearl". When applied to music, it generally refers to a period spanning the years 1600-1750.

And it is here our historical view of music starts; just about 400 years ago, in Florence, Italy, at the house of Count Giovanni de' Bardi. It is here that a group of intellectuals and artists gathered themselves to discuss the arts and sciences, and it is here, historians say, the Baroque period of music was begun.

The Florentine Camerata, as the men called themselves, felt that the strict, complex, liturgical music of the time often overshadowed the text of the music itself, and they proposed a new style of music that had one, simple melody, and parts that supported that melody. Putting these words into action was a man by the name of Jacopo Peri, who wrote a work entitled Dafni. This, musicologists feel, was the world's first opera, and the starting point of many other new forms that typify the Baroque period.

Now along with the Florentine Camerata, other men had been thinking about their music more deeply. The previous period in music, the Renaissance period, had seen great advances in the way of polyphony, or multiple voices playing against each other. But now, we find composers are beginning to peak behind the common thinking of the time to discover what lies beyond just moving lines of music.

Before we go any further, let me try to give you an idea of Renaissance music, and the general music of this time. Just think horizontal. A great deal of music then was written for religious purposes, which meant it was music to be sung. This in turn meant that music had to have many, separate, singable lines, for the various parts of the choir. This, finally, meant that music was generally made up of individual lines; lines moving horizontally, independent of each other. Now they weren't fully independent, obviously, because each line had to harmonize with the others, but the general bent in this time was toward the horizontal, linear side of music.

But now we see a shift taking place. Gradually the scales are tipping and composers are beginning to toy with the vertical side of music, music made up not only of notes, but of chords. This can be seen in the addition of a basso continuo, or a chorded bass line, that became a staple of Baroque music. (You can almost always tell if a piece is Baroque by listening for a cello or double-bass playing a bass line and a harpsichord filling it in with chords.)

Also, we begin to see a greater production of instruments themselves, and keyboard instruments are becoming fashionable. New techniques of playing instruments are discovered, like pizzicato and tremolo, and the need for that single, solo melody gives birth to the musical forms of the concerto (a piece for a solo instrument with orchestra for accompaniment) and the aria (a piece for solo voice with orchestral accompaniment). In fact, it is during the Baroque period that the orchestra is really first organized, and composers begin to write more specifically for certain instruments, rather than leave choices for the performers as to what instruments should be used.

Dance suites, large works made up of several, smaller "dances" are now common, and contain forms such as the gavotte and rigaudon. People are beginning to see the artistic quality of music, and virtuoso passages, like the cadenza, are being added to the solo repertoire. It is also in the this time that the fugue, a musical form where a melody is played over itself many times at different intervals, is born. The fugue is perhaps the most identifiable contribution the Baroque period made in the way of musical forms.

Names like Corelli, Vivaldi, Handel, Bach, and Telemann are the most talked about names through the Baroque period. But many, many composers have lived during these years, and each began to see that a slightly greater emphasis on the vertical side of music could be used to great advantage. The concepts of melody and harmony are beginning to grow.

All of these things took place during the exciting 150 years that were the Baroque period. As you can see, many changes were made during this time. But perhaps the greatest, most far reaching change was that of the small, slight shift from straight polyphonic writing into more chordal based music. The rules of the Renaissance were, as I said, still being studied and applied during this time, but people were beginning to think about just how their musical lines were interacting to build harmonies. The shift was slight, but just enough to have a profound impact on the music to come.

Well that's my introduction to the Baroque era. Hopefully, this has made you eager to get into the works and lives of some of the composers who lived then, and began to work such a change in music. I'll start it all off next post with the life and music of: George Frederic Handel.

Section 1: Introduction - Music #2

As promised, in this post, I'm going to go a little further into what music is. This is really my favorite stuff to talk about. And honestly, it's the most difficult stuff to talk about, because it's very hard to explain. See, I said before that music is technically just structured noise, and that is true. But I think we all know that music is so much more than just that. And whatever else it is is what this post is all about. But we'll get into that in a little bit. For now I'll start us off with something not so difficult.

You may never have thought about it before, but music is a language. Music is a written, read, and spoken language. It may not look exactly like other languages when written, and it doesn't really sound like any other language, but it is a language nonetheless. It's a language because it communicates ideas, and those ideas can be understood. One person can say something through music, and another person can understand him. The only thing is that, like any other language, you must practice your music if you want to become fluent. It's the same as anything else. The greater your exposure to music the better you are at it. So hopefully, this blog will help you to become a little more fluent in music, if you aren't already. Because once you can understand what a piece of music says, you will be greatly enriched.

Now when you're learning to speak and understand music, it's important to know that music does not communicate the same ideas that our everyday languages do. When I'm talking to you in English, I can say things like "I'm going to the store", or "My name is David." I can't say any of that in music. But what music (and technically any other art form) can do, is go much deeper than English in communicating emotions. For example, if I were just talking to you, I could say something like, "I am sad today." Now you'd obviously get the idea of what I was saying, but only so far. Your understanding of my feelings would go only as far as the word 'sad' can take you. But suppose then I picked up a violin and began to play you some music. Sad, haunting music, with desperate, reaching intervals that never quite attain a resolution. Now, you not only know that I am sad, you know exactly what my emotion sounds like, and if I played it well enough, you might even feel the same way yourself. That's what music communicates. The sound of an emotion, or even the actual emotion itself.

And it's here that we begin to see the very difficult-to-explain aspects of music. Go back a little to my last post, when music was just a bunch of structured noise, and go through each of the points I brought up, and try asking the questions "Why?" and "How?" about each of them.

We know that music stimulates the emotions through sound, but how? Why does the sound stimulate our emotions? I've already said that, physically, the same thing happens to you when you listen to music as when you listen to any other noise. So what is so different about music that it can communicate with people and regular noise cannot? What is missing from the construction site that is there in music?

Whatever it is, it's the other thing that music is, that I told you about. And I thought long and hard about this, and finally came to the conclusion that we'll probably never know just what it is. Maybe it's a part of us that we put into the sound along with the structure. I just don't know. It's music's greatest mystery. Why does Max Steiner's "Gone with the Wind" theme sound so stirring and hopeful? Why does the Moonlight Sonata sound so pensive? They're just structured sound waves! Nobody knows the answer.

Now if you're still not convinced that there's something more to music than just those structured sound waves, history has given us a very interesting insight into music, in the person of Ludwig van Beethoven.

Beethoven was so interesting because he was deaf for at least the last half of his life. To put this in perspective, think of a blind man who was a great painter. That's pretty amazing as it is, but the more I thought about it, the more I began to unearth what his deafness meant for music.

Beethoven was very ashamed of his handicap. He felt that a great composer like himself should have a perfect ear, and it was terribly difficult for him to see other people enjoying music while he couldn't hear a note of it. Well there was a time in Beethoven's life when he became very sick, and thought he was going to die. So he wrote a letter to his brothers, to be read after he died. It turned out he didn't die then, but when he eventually did die, the letter was found among his things. In it, he comes clean about his deafness, and explains why he was so hesitant to go out in public. And then he says the most interesting thing of all.

Beethoven talks about how his deafness almost drove him to suicide at one point, but then his life was spared because he realized how much he needed to write music. He couldn't end his life without creating all the art he was born to produce.

Think about that for a little bit. Here was a man who couldn't hear any sound, not even structured sound. And it almost killed him. But then he realized that, even in the absence of sound, he still had music. It's absolutely fascinating. What, from his perspective, was he writing when he sat down to compose? He couldn't even hear his own music. But he loved to write it. Maybe he just loved that chance to communicate his emotions where his pride wouldn't let him otherwise. I don't know. For whatever reason, this deaf man loved music. And not the structured sound part of music. The other thing that music is.

Look back at this post for a minute. All this has just been about the "emotion" circle of the diagram. Time doesn't allow me to discuss the other two circles, like why music is so beautiful to our sense of hearing, or why the sound of the moving lines is so interesting to our minds. Why do our human ears just love so much to hear pretty music? What about the sound waves makes one sound pleasant, and another almost painful? I just don't know. It's music, and it's just that way, whether we know the reason or not.

I think in the end, we have to say that music is noise, structured with a rhythm and key, but also with something deeply human about it. Did you know humans are the only creatures on earth capable of even perceiving a rhythm? Music is a part of us, it's a part of who we are as humans. It's cross-cultural. And it communicates. That's why the ability to understand music is so important. Music is a universal, beautiful, artistic language.

So hopefully this blog has already helped you appreciate what music and art are more than you might have already, and maybe as we go through the history of music, and you are exposed to it more, you'll begin to understand it as well. But I'll start into that in the next post. :)

Section 1: Introduction - Music #1

We now move into the really great part of this introduction, the part where we get to talk about the subject of my whole blog: music. Now since it is a form of art, music carries much of the same basic description I talked about earlier. Music is anything created to stimulate the intellect, senses, and emotions. It simply does this using the medium of sound, and specifically only stimulates our sense of hearing.

And when you think about it, music really is just sound. I've thought about this a lot in the past. Really, the same thing is happening to you when you hear noisy construction down the road and when you're listening to Camille Saint-Saens' "The Swan". Your eardrum vibrates to moving air. So naturally, this got me thinking: what is the difference between music and regular noise? Because there certainly is one.

I came to the conclusion that music is just noise with a structure. Take the pounding of that hammer in the construction site and give it a definite beat and you basically have a drum. Organize the pitches of the car horns in the busy traffic into patterns and you could make a tune. Music, I concluded, must simply be structured noise.

This is very important. I feel that any piece of music must have these two basic structures: rhythm and key. They are the fundamental differences between music and noise. (Hence the picture up there...) I do think these merit a little bit of discussion.

Rhythm, according to Dictionary.com is "the pattern of regular or irregular pulses caused in music by the occurrence of strong and weak melodic and harmonic beats". I think that's a pretty good way of thinking about it: patterns of accents in a beat. Take a 4/4 rhythm, for example. We get a rhythm like this from taking four evenly spaced beats and accenting the first and third beats. 6/8 would be six evenly spaced beats, with accents on the first and fourth. The list goes on.

Now here's an interesting test: try thinking of any song you know and take out the rhythm. Just imagine the notes without any pattern in the beat at all. It's very hard to do. (Which should tell you something about how music and rhythm are joined.) But if you can manage to think of it, I believe you'll find it doesn't sound very good. It becomes random pitches without any organization of timing, and it's impossible to detect any tune. So music, I think, must have a rhythm in it to be music. It just becomes a bunch of noise without it.

Now key is the part of musical structure I find the most interesting. It's a little more difficult to define, or even really describe. But I think that Dictionary.com did okay on this one, too: "The relationship perceived between all tones in a given unit of music and a single tone or keynote."

I think that's a good way of putting it. Key is the relationship between one note and all the other notes of a piece of music. It's how the notes react together, and the conclusions they naturally lead to when put in relation to one particular note. When we say such-and-such a song is in the "key of C", we mean we figure all the notes around the note "C". And each key is different. The key of C major has certain notes that appear in it naturally, and certain notes that don't. F-sharp minor is a little different. But in each key, the notes follow a logical procession from that starting note. (The actual reason for all this is very technical and a little confusing. I believe it has something to do with things called 'overtones', but I'm not really sure about all that. So I won't talk about it too much.)

Let's stop here and try and apply the same test we did with rhythm, only with key this time. Just try and imagine that same song with a logical rhythm, but without any logical pattern in the notes at all. Just random skips and jumps. Again, the results are less than pleasing. There's no tune, and it's just like a bunch of noise.

So to sum this post up, I think we could say that music is an art form that utilizes sound, structured with rhythm and key, to stir the mind, emotions, and sense of hearing. In my next post, though, I'll go a little further and talk about the other thing that music is, that really has no definition. So be sure and check that out! :)

Section 1: Introduction - Art #2

In the previous post, I stated what I consider to be the three main driving forces behind art: the intellect, the senses, and the emotions. I believe any work of art could be placed into any combination of these categories. And I think a diagram like mine is good, because it allows us to categorize works by their purpose, which is key in appreciating art. However you think of art, whether with my circles or not, it's always good to know why a work of art is. But more on that later.

I had an interesting conversation with my dad a while ago, after he read my last post, where he brought up the question: is there a spiritual side to art?

Now from a Christian standpoint the answer is an obvious yes. Art comes from man's creativity, which in turn springs from our being made in the image of a creative God. God creates, so we like to create. Naturally our creations don't quite compare. God created the universe, and we can't do that. But we do have an inward desire to create nice things.

Here we reach an important point when talking about art. Art, since it ultimately comes from God's creativity, should reflect His creativity. To put it in Biblical terms, since everything God creates is "very good" (based on Genesis 1), what man calls art should also be good. I like what Bob Jones University has inscribed over the door on their Fine Arts Museum: "Think on these things." An appropriate reference to Philippians 4:8. Art should be true, honest, just, pure, lovely, of good report, virtuous, and praise-worthy, because when we create, we reflect what God creates. God never creates anything bad. Only good, wholesome things; things of value. (To give you a little taste of what's to come, I'll do a lot of talking about value when I get to modern art...) I guess one could almost put another circle enclosing my other three, and label it: "Reflecting God's Creation".

Also, to put it frankly, a work of art doesn't necessarily have to have God in it to be good art. Some Christians may get confused here. To go back to a previous example, a hotel room painting is not a bad piece of art. It's purpose is simply to provide something beautiful to look at, which is good, and reflective of many things God created. Schumann's "Traumerei" is beautiful both to the senses and the emotions, and is good art.

This, in turn, brings us to another important point, already stated: art often plays on the emotions. In light of what has been said, we can see that we must be careful of any art which might promote a message that is wrong. This is one reason to watch for the purpose of a particular work, and be sure we are not influenced by it. Tchaikovsky wrote symphonies that he himself said represented fate's overpowering grip on our lives. So we can appreciate the rousing beauty in his pieces, but we have to be careful of its purpose and message. And naturally, some things that some people might consider to be art are simply against the mandates of God's Word, and fall outside even of the larger, all-encompassing circle of reflecting God's creativity and eliminate themselves from being true art.

Well, I guess that concludes my thoughts on art as a whole. To sum it all up for you, I think of art as something created to stimulate the senses, intellect, emotions, or any combination of the three. And I place all this against the backdrop of reflecting of God's incredible creativity. It is an exploration of the talents and creations God has given us, and when used properly, it is uplifting and good. Art is healthy for people because, like I said, humans just like to create things. So I think it certainly merits a discussion such as this.

I encourage you to do some thinking on this subject, and form your own opinions. I think I've hit all the main points and I do believe my opinions do a good job of explaining things, but like I've pointed out, some of this stuff is subjective. What do you think art is? Do you agree with my conclusions?

Section 1: Introduction - Art #1

Art is very difficult to define. Dictionary.com defines it as being "the quality, production, expression, or realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance". Wikipedia says it's "the process or product of arranging elements in a way to affect the senses or emotions". Webster's Online Dictionary says art is simply "the product of human creativity". I've tried to define art before, and it's very hard to do. All of the above definitions are right in a way, but all say something a little different.

I think it's safe to say that in today's society, people would generally agree that whatever art is, it must be something very high and lofty. We use phrases like: "He's raised such-and-such to an art form!" meaning he's achieved a certain status above the other people who do the same thing. On the other hand, some would call a canvas splattered with paint a masterpiece of art. (Frankly, however, I often think I could splatter my paint better than some of those guys.) So what is it then? Is art something beautiful? Is it something emotional? Something intellectual?

Before I get into my answer, let me say that I'm not sure one could stick an all-encompassing definition on art. I think we can describe art, but I don't know that one definition could ever cover all that it is. So this is my description of art. And looking it over, it does cover a lot of what art is. So I think it's a good description.

Anyway, in answer to my above questions, my description of art says: all three. I think of art like the above picture. There are three intersecting circles each representing a different aspect of art. They intersect, because pieces of art seldom contain just one of these aspects.

The first section is that of intellect. Art is something intellectual. Good art is often thought-provoking. A great mystery novel is artistic in its ability to baffle you and then surprise you with how simple the conclusion was all along; a great painting or photograph makes you wonder about the subjects of the painting; A great speaker can motivate you to make a choice, or a piece of music can stimulate you to study it and find out how all its pieces move and fit together, like one of Bach's fugues. But like I said, few works of art, especially music, would be for the intellectual stimulation alone. Which brings us to circle two: emotions.

Art's emotional purpose is the one most people think of when defining art. And it does cover a great deal of the art we have today. A painting or sculpture can take us to a spot and ask us about the emotions we feel there, or an artist will even splatter paint all over a canvas in order to say what an emotion would actually look like. A speaker's ability to intellectually stimulate his audience comes from his ability to move them emotionally to one side of an argument. And there's no denying that emotions are very often the driving force behind a piece of music. Composers thrive in finding what sounds excite which emotions in people. Just think of all the movie music that aids in heightening the emotion of a film.

Circle three is senses. This is probably the second most common answer people have when defining art. They say art is beautiful. And again, they'd be right. I'll never understand just why the human senses are naturally attracted to certain things. Certain intervals, for example, in music, are to me some of the most beautiful things to listen to. Certain colors are simply attractive to the human eye. However, I would like to put here that art is not necessarily always beautiful. I think it's safer to say that art just plays on the senses. Something artistic can be either beautiful ... or ugly. Generally ugly art would be used to motivate us intellectually to a decision about something. But it is art nonetheless.

These three circles, as I said, are intersecting because very few pieces of art can fit into only one of these circles. Some could. Hotel room paintings could probably be stuck right in the "senses" circle. They're just pretty to look at. It's more difficult to find a work of art that is only in one of the two remaining circles. Maybe a funny limerick could be fit into the "emotions" circle. I'd place most fugues in the crossing section of senses and intellect probably. Although the Toccata and Fugue in D Minor could certainly be played with a lot of emotion, which I say puts it right in the middle of the diagram.

And this is where all the really great art is found: in the middle. The Mona Lisa for example; a beautiful painting that is attractive to the senses, plays on the emotions, and makes you think. You could sit there and think about her smile for as long as you want and she'll never tell you what she's so happy about. Same thing with Edward Hopper's lonely, lovely painting: Nighthawks. (Who are those people and what is the woman thinking about?)

As you can see, any piece of art can pretty much be fit anywhere on my diagram, so I use this when I think of art. And it's all subjective like I said. I might fit a piece where you do not. That's why art is cool. Where would you put your favorite piece of art? :)

My Blog

Welcome to my blog! As the title suggests, this is pretty much a collection of the many thoughts I have had and conclusions I have come to about music. I know that sounds like a broad topic, and it is, really, but that's why I've decided to make this blog: so I can organize all my thoughts, and also share them with whoever wants to read them.

Just so you're aware, this blog will follow a chronological procession. Since music is, as I've said, such a broad topic, I've decided to talk about it from a historical standpoint, starting from a long time ago, and going up to nowadays, tracing music's progression through the ages, and sharing my observations as I go. This means that what I talk about will likely build on itself, and topics that happen come up at one time will probably come up later. So it's best to start at the beginning so you get it all.

I've decided to divide my blog into 5 sections:

Section 1 will be a sort of introductory section, explaining what I think of art and music as a whole,

Section 2 will begin the historical overview of music, starting with the Baroque period and a few of the composers who wrote Baroque music,

Section 3 covers the Classical period and composers from that time,

Section 4 covers the Romantic period, and goes through composers during that time, and

Section 5 will wrap it all up in the Modern, or Contemporary period, and I'll explain what I think about all that.

Each section, as you can see, will cover a few composers. Naturally, it would be impossible to cover them all, so I'm just going to hit the highlights, like Bach and Schumann and Tchaikovsky. If you know composers, I'm sorry if I don't get to your favorites... And these time periods are really broken up just how I happen to break them up. People differ in their opinions of when each of these periods actually was and which composers were in them. This is just how I happened to write it.

I guess you could say this blog will end out something like a 'music appreciation' study. I'll talk about why I like or don't like certain things, why some things are like they are, etc. But keep in mind these are my own thoughts, and most of what I talk about is subjective. This is basically just my way of jotting down my conclusions and letting you read them.

Hopefully this blog will get you interested in music if you're not, and if you are, maybe you'll be encouraged to think about some of these things for yourself and make your own conclusions. At any rate maybe you'll just like to read what I have to say. Enjoy!