As a knowledge of any branch of human endeavor tends to increase our interest and pleasure in life, so an under-standing of the basic principles of musical composition will aid the music lover, who is without technical knowledge of the subject, to a larger and more thorough enjoyment of music. If to simply hear good music is one of the greatest of pleasures, how much more intense must be the enjoyment of the one who understands the composition to which he is listening. To the pleasure of the sense is added the pleasure of the intellect. There is no branch of music whose study is more fascinating than the study of form, nor is there any which will give such great returns in pleasure and profit, in proportion to the time spent upon it, as that outlined in this chapter; such study stimulates to a wide range of observation and develops a keener insight into music than is likely to come in any way, except by much longer and deeper study ; but for the music-lover, in distinction to the student or teacher, there is no way to gain an understanding of music comparable to the ability to analyze form. With the under-standing of form comes a grasp of the composer's intentions that cannot be gained in any other way, and this general understanding of form can be gained by the careful reader without unusual mental effort.
All art is subject to laws of the past. Now and then a genius arises whose works are apparently beyond all laws and we say he is so great that he is a law unto himself, but closer scrutiny shows that the product of his intellect is grounded upon certain basic principles. While his own individuality may force him to reach into the future, he is ever governed by the laws of the past. Speaking of the laws of art-forms Goethe says, it is "genius, natural talent, that is the first to understand them, and that pays them the readiest obedience." A composer would no more undertake to write a composition without a plan or design to which he proposed to conform, than would an architect undertake to build a building without a definite plan. Neither can he build great structures by random work or piece-work. He would very probably change many details and add many embellishments during the construction of his building, but of necessity, these would conform to his general plan or he would be starting from nowhere and could expect to arrive at no definite artistic conclusion. This plan or design, in conformity to which a piece of music is written, is called its form.
Music is either purely instrumental, purely vocal, or mixed. The composer of instrumental music is freer from restraint than the composer of either vocal or mixed music, as he is in no wise hampered by the limitations of the voice or by the necessity of adapting the music to the words to be sung. In this chapter we treat largely of the monophonic forms of instrumental music. The difference between poly-phonic and monophonic forms has already been explained in the chapter on fugue. The word monophonic is derived from the Greek mono, meaning one, phonic, sound or tone, the entire word signifying the importance of one sound or series of tones. In fugue, or the polyphonic form, melodies are introduced for the different voices or instruments to carry on in harmony, the same melody acting as accompaniment to itself in two, three, four and sometimes even more parts, while in monophonic compositions one melody is introduced at a time, its accompaniment being harmonious but not necessarily a melody. The critics and analysts of music have not come any nearer agreeing on the divisions and names of the forms of music than on many other subjects connected with the art, except that there is a very general agreement on the titles and definitions of polyphonic and monophonic music. Under the latter form writers have pointed out many different divisions such as the classical, romantic, operatic, dance, popular and sacred forms, but it can be shown that the first three of these can be reasonably and logically said to include all forms of monophonic music, and as a con-sequence we shall here consider the first three only. While these forms are all monophonic yet in all of them short passages may be contrapuntal, polyphonic or fugal in style, but these. are not of sufficient length to make their form predominant, or even conspicuous, in proportion to the structure of the entire composition. We will first consider the classical, then the romantic and operatic forms, giving definitions and explanations as we take them up.
Form in music in a general way stands for clearness, attractiveness or order, order being as necessary and ever present in good music as in good architecture. In fact, order or form is the prime requisite of good music, as every thinking being is attracted by order and repelled by disorder. The tones in music are unsubstantial and transient, a single tone or chord cannot give a lasting impression, the pleasant sounds appeal only to the sense, but adherence to a definite form gives stability. Truly artistic music appeals, because of its form, to the intellect, and through the intellect to the emotions. And it is for this very reason that every music-lover should understand and be able to some extent at least to analyze form, as it is by means of form music makes its intellectual appeal. In keeping constantly in mind the ever present necessity of form in music the reader should not gain the idea that it leads to monotony, for the first requirements of good form are unity and variety, both of which are necessary to insure interest and which when evenly balanced assure good form. Unity is apparent in the holding together, the oneness of the entire composition; variety, in the details, in the various differences in key, tempo and structure of the passages. The necessary presence of unity and variety in every art work of whatever kind is emphasized by all critics in every branch of art. In painting there must be variety in drawing, texture, color and form, or interest would be lacking, but all these qualities must be united by the artist in order to produce a sense of completeness or entire satisfaction. This is so generally understood and accepted and is set out at such length in every treatise on aesthetics that it is not necessary to enter into it here.
The evidences of form in music are the presence of beats, measures, rhythm and melody. The beats and measures are visible to the music reader and performer, the listener learning of their presence because of the accent, which is always noticeable when music is properly performed on any instrument, greater stress or accent being usually placed upon the first beat in each measure than on any other beat. The same system of grouping beats into measures is used in gathering measures into groups and the regular succession of accents or tone-impulses determines the rhythm, which will be explained later. The fourth evidence of form and by far the most important one, in fact it may be said to control the form, is the melody. From the melody the form is defined and recognized. The notes of the principal melody are usually placed above the other notes and rendered by the instruments or voices of the highest pitch, as these notes strike the ear with the greatest emphasis. The melody is. God-given. While, as has already been stated in a previous. chapter, there are certain rules governing the writing of melody it comes from the composer's heart. The rules for harmony and form may be learned and followed absolutely; the resultant composition will no more be inspired than will the Latin verses of the English grammar-school boy, which conform to all the rules of Latin grammar and prosody, be real poetry. The poet and the musician must both be born with the song in his heart; then having learned the rules of his art he can put his inspiration into permanent, lasting form which will make its appeal to his fellows, and the more correct that form the stronger and more lasting will be the appeal.
The motive is the smallest musical unit; it is the idea or musical thought, and ultimately from it develops the entire structure of the composition. The use of the word motive should not be confounded with the German word "motif," often translated motive, and which is applied to passages of varying length made to represent or signify various persons, objects or emotions. The composer Wagner in his operas, especially in those of the Ring, brought these passages into very great prominence. The motive he used varied in length from a few notes to several measures. Here we are considering the thematic music in distinction from lyric. In lyric music the melody flows on, while in thematic music one theme or musical expression is used again and again in the course of the composition. The motive we are considering is usually short, but in order to render the metre of a musical thought intelligible to the ear it is necessary that it extend beyond one measure, so constituting a section, with an usual extent of two measures.
We are now ready to consider a more definite part of our building up process, the phrase, which is really an extension of the musical idea to cover generally four measures, usually containing two sections, making it a fragment of a melody. It corresponds with the phrase in language, conveying to the hearer the distinct consciousness of the beginning and course of a musical thought, but not necessarily complete sense. Although phrases are frequently modified as to length, the original mathematical form is never lost, and upon analyzation by a musician the form can be perceived in all the classical music despite the modifications. The extra measures which deprive the phrase of its mathematical precision may frequently be omitted and the melody remain intact. However, they are not to be regarded as.
embellishments, but just as some phrases in literature to express the exact idea of the writer require words containing more letters or syllables than other equally complete phrases, so some musical phrases to exactly express the composer's thought must contain more notes than other phrases which appear in the same composition. In like manner they may be smaller than required by the particular form in use. To distinguish the length of phrases the terms simple and composite are frequently employed. The simple phrase is one consisting of but one rhythm, while the composite phrase covers two or more rhythms. None of the great masters has held himself absolutely bound by rules of form. This is exemplified for instance in one of Mendelssohn's compositions where is to be found a phrase twenty-two measures in length. On the other hand general acceptance may be given to the statement, that the compositions which have been the most lasting and the ones which today are looked upon as the greatest, are those which have been made to conform most closely to the established rules of form.
The phrase may begin either on an accented or unaccented beat of a full measure and it usually terminates with a cadence. It is necessary to emphasize the importance of the phrase, for from it all musical forms are built, and in all productions of music, whether instrumental or vocal, the proper accenting and phrasing is as vital as in the speaking and reading of a language. That the phrase may be distinguished by the listener it is necessary that an apparent change be made in the rhythm; this is brought about by the usual introduction of the cadence, which is the end of the phrase or the point of temporary repose between two phrases. The cadence generally occurs upon an accented beat and its presence is commonly made known by the lengthening of the chord which is sounded at that point; when this chord is built up from the key-note of the phrase the pause is said to be a full cadence ; when the cord is that of the fifth it indicates a half or imperfect cadence. The significance of the full and half-cadence will be apparent later in this same chapter. The cadence is commonly very apparent, and rightfully so, as next to the knowledge of the melody, the finding of the true location of the cadence is the most important task in properly analyzing or interpreting music; yet in many cases the cadence is partially concealed by various technical devices which it is unnecessary to mention here as we are striving to gain only a general understanding of our subject; and in a few instances, though rarely, the cadence is entirely omitted by elision, one phrase being combined with the next and the separating cadence being entirely absent.
As the phrases in language are combined to make sentences so, too, the phrases in music are combined to make what are known to musical authorities as sentences, or periods, which term will be used here as it is the more modern and used by those who are perhaps the best authorities.
The great lack of unanimity in phraseology is one of the greatest difficulties yet to be overcome by musical theorists. Musical nomenclature like the scale, notation and every-thing connected with the art has been subject to an irregular and uneven growth and evolution. The greatest and deepest students of musical form have in the past been Germans. These men have not used entire unanimity in their nomenclature and when their works were translated into English by their English speaking followers, there resulted an annoying lack of uniformity in terminology, different translators using the same English words to convey different meanings, and worse still, if possible, different words for the same things. Some writers and critics have even gone so far as to coin their own words. The words or titles used here are those which have gradually grown into general acceptance and where there is a difference in terminology it is indicated; but not until musical authorities of all nations agree upon some fixed nomenclature can we hope to avoid misunderstandings.
The simple period is the outgrowth of the phrase, and is made by the addition of what is called a subsequent phrase to the first or antecedent phrase, the two being separated usually by a half-cadence which always signifies progression and the entire period generally terminating in a perfect cadence in tonic, dominant, or mediant keys. As a rule the subsequent phrase is related to the antecedent both in melody and in key, the melody in the subsequent phrase being much like that of the antecedent in movement and intervals, and its key being one easily derived from the key of the antecedent.
The simple period may be enlarged or amplified in many ways. One or both phrases may be repeated; three phrases may be used in place of two; or a double or compound phrase may be formed of four phrases, the second contrasting with the first, the third agreeing with the first and the fourth again contrasting with the third and agreeing with the second in melody and key. All these modifications agree with the simple period in that they contain only one full cadence which terminates the period, all the phrases are separated by an imperfect or half-cadence and all periods consist of alternate accented and unaccented measures. The different divisions of musical form must always be made up of full measures, no matter in what part of the first meas ure they begin; therefore, if a period begins with an unaccented beat the unaccented beat must be omitted from the last measure.
The statements previously made in this chapter treat of the elements, or parts and their connecting links, which when properly joined together go to make up the musical sentence or period as it is called in music. All larger compositions are simply a series of periods gathered together in accordance with certain fixed standards or rules which have been gradually developed by the great masters.
The two-part form seems to have been the natural musical expression of man, the statement and refrain being used by solo and chorus, or by male and female voices, as is so clearly shown in the Psalms of David. This form was early apparent in both polyphonic and monophonic music.
It is the simplest of all musical forms and being a repetition of periods or rather a union of them so that one constitutes the theme and the other a counter-theme, and is almost synonymous with the terms melody and tune as we commonly use them.
The German Volkslieder were written in this form; some theorists give it the name Lied-form but we use the English translation, song-form. It now embraces so many different kinds of musical composition, both vocal and instrumental, that the name primary form is considered more appropriate. If the reader will remember that primary and song form are synonymous, and that the underlying principle rests in the presenting of one musical thought followed by a second which contrasts with it and closes with a half-cadence in the tonic key, and then a return to the original for a conclusion, he will have but little difficulty in distinguishing the forms as found in various compositions, nor will be confused by the musical terminology as it is later applied to special forms described in this chapter. To the primary form the name binary is frequently applied to make a readier distinction from the ternary form. The binary form more fully exemplifies the idea of progressive growth than anything previously considered, as the second part serves as a balance and complement to the first. The first part consists of a musical period and usually closes with a perfect cadence. The second part contains, at least at the start, material that forms a contrast and affords the balance to part one. There is usually a slight change in the melody in part two and it frequently is more elaborate and extended than the first period and closes with a half-cadence in the tonic key; then comes the return to part one. Simple compositions are written in the small two-part primary forms and in them you find eight measures in the first period, four measures of contrasting material and a repetition of four measures of the first, while the more elaborate works come under the large two-part primary form in which the number of measures are doubled, sixteen for the first period, followed by eight, and a return to eight of the first part.
The three-part primary form is superior to the two-part in that a third period is added which is a repetition of the first, making a more rounded whole. The difference between the two and three-part primary forms lies in the length of the subsequent phrase and the repetition. In the simple primary form, as before pointed out, the second contrasting period is never but half the length of the first, and the third never repeats the first in its entirety, while in the three-part form there are the same number of measures in each of the three parts. The first period, preceded by the introduction, is the statement or exposition of the principal idea or melody; the second period is a distinct departure from the first, the final or subsequent phrase leading up to the third period, which is a repetition of the first and is followed by the coda. This three-part primary form is subject to enlargement by the repetition of the first part or by adding a combination of the second and third parts which gives a total of five parts, some authorities going so far as to make this a separate division, calling it a five-part form or a group of parts, but this is an unnecessary refinement of analysis as the enlargement is directly based upon the three-part form, and is on a larger and broader scale, as in it each of the three parts consists of a distinct primary form. First comes a principal song form in two or three parts followed by a second subordinate song form in some other key, perhaps in a relative minor key of the subdominant, the subdominant, or the key a major third lower than the first part; this is usually called a trio, which name is derived from a piece played with three instruments. Following the trio comes the repetition of the first song form in the original key. To this repetition is sometimes given the name da capo, meaning "the head," signifying a return to the beginning, for the reason that the older composers did not go to the trouble of writing out the score of the last movement but used the words "da capo" to indicate to the performer that the first movement should be repeated. The ternary form is the most commonly used form as in it are
written many dances such as polonaise, gavotte, minuet and most of the old dances. All later forms are ex-tensions or modifications of either binary or ternary forms.
It cannot be too often stated or too strongly emphasized that none of the rules or forms of composition are inflexible or unbreakable. In the past have appeared composers who were above and beyond all rules for form in composition. The rules are the general usage of the great minds of the past, and it is but logical to suppose that there will be great ones in the future who will make farther modifications. If it were not for this belief we could look only to the past and all hope for future development in music as well as in other arts would be dead. With an understanding of the primary and ternary forms we are ready to consider special classical forms and will begin with dance music.
The history of dancing and dances enters prominently into musical development and many of the classical forms of the music of today found their origin in dance music. The earliest dancing was little more than pantomimic action which told the story of adventure, or combat, by means of more or less rhythmical gestures. A rude accompaniment was some-times used which did little but mark the time for the dancers, and when we read of the dances in the Scriptures we find the clapping of hands, rhythmic beating of the tambourine, or clatter of the timbrel to guide the dancers and singers. Not until we come to the dances of the Middle Ages do we find any connection between them and the modern forms of music. In the music of the Troubadours and Minnesingers there were dance-songs or "Tanzweisen," and in them we find the contrasted periods of our present primary, or song form.
The dances of the nobles, dignified, slow walking dances, and the merry, wild, hilarious dances of the peasantry afforded the contrast necessary to good musical form, and musicians soon began to combine the two. Then to preserve the symmetry they not only interwove the two contrasting dances but concluded by a return to the first movement, and gave rise to the tripartite form so largely used by modern classical composers. French, German and Spanish dances lent their influence and in the Sixteenth Century we find Italian composers combining three or four different dances and making a composition in the cycle form, which means simply a set or succession of movements called the partita, which in turn progressed to the suite. The dance music is of course writ-ten to correspond to the regular steps of the dancer and hence the rhythm is very regular, making this perhaps the simplest and clearest of all musical forms. Much of the music written in dance form, however, is not intended as an accompaniment to dancing and in it we commonly find irregular rhythms, for the composer is not restricted, and can em-ploy variations impossible when obliged to consider the steps of the dancer. As a result of this freedom we have the idealized dance forms, such as we find in the works of Mozart, Haydn, Schubert, Beethoven, Chopin and Weber. We shall first consider those dances which are of special importance in that they were parts of the old suite, from which many of our modern instrumental forms were developed. Four movements were usually considered necessary in every suite of regular form, the allemande, courante, saraband and gigue, all written in the same key, though other dance forms were often introduced usually between the saraband and the gigue.
The allemande, a dance of German origin, immediately follows a prelude. Occasionally we find a suite without this opening dance form, but generally speaking it is considered a necessary movement. At the time it was adopted for the suite it had long been forgotten as a dance and consequently its construction is not as regular in rhythmic treatment as the three following movements. It is written in 4-4 time, tempo moderately rapid, and commences usually with one short note, a quaver or semi-quaver, at the end of the measure. The monophonic rather than the polyphonic style pre-dominates, and the upper part or melody is of uniform regular motion but without strongly marked rhythms, and occasionally rather fantastic in treatment, while the accompaniment is comparatively simple. The parts usually contain eight, twelve or sixteen measures and less frequently ten measures. In Magny's Chorigraphie, Pecour, a celebrated dancing master of the opera under Louis XIV., left us the music of the allemande in 6-8 time, which shows it to have been a fairly lively dance in those days, though the original German allemande was slower and more somber, and in the suite it is always written in common time.
It is followed by the courante, one of the oldest French figure dances, very fashionable during the Sixteenth Century. The name was derived from the French courir, to run, and the Italian courante, or corrente, answers more to the etymological meaning of the name as it consists chiefly of running passages, while the French dance form is characterized by staccato notes. The French form is written in 3-2 time with rather rapid running movement with a short note at the end of the measure as is the first movement of the suite. In the old dance music there was a marked peculiarity in that in the last bar of each part you find 6-4 time in spite of the signature. As it ceased to lose its connection with the dance it underwent a change, and in the suite the two rhythms are frequently mixed, and often, though the signature is 3-2, the 6-4 time predominates throughout and the polyphonic style is used to clearly bring out these features. The Italian corrente is in triple time also, but is usually in 3-8 or 3-4 time and the tempo is somewhat faster. There is a strong contrast between the first movement, the allemande, with its simple tune and somewhat heavy character and the lighter, more complex courante which in the French form gives an impression of energy and vivacity, while the running pas-sages of the Italian form suggest not quite so energetic a dance as a light, merry, playful one.
At its close, the listener is brought back to a less frivolous state of mind by the stately, serious saraband. This dance was of Moorish origin, but was quite as popular in France and England as in Spain. Only one dancer originally performed the saraband, and a voice accompanied him. Later it was transformed into a dance in which several participated. Its time signature is the same as the courante, 3-2 or 3-4, and usually consists of eight or twelve measure divisions. It is remarkable for its strongly accentuated rhythm, which is simple and yet majestic, making it far more regular in construction than the two preceding movements.
It seems to have been an unwritten law of cycle music that the final movement should be such as to leave the listener in a merry mood and nothing could better serve the purpose than the gigue, a hearty dance, which doubtless originated with no one people and in no one country as it was known in many lands in slightly varying forms at the same time. It was a rollicking, rapid dance, very regular in rhythmic structure. Various time signatures are used, as 3-8, 6-8, 3-4, 6-4 and even 12-8, and in the more pretentious suites the gigue assumes great complexity, owing to the rapid, continuous movement. Bach occasionally treated the gigue in free fugal style.
The gavotte is often used between the last two movements. It was originally a mountaineer's dance in the city of Gap, France, where the women were called gavottes, whence the dance received its name. It was, like many of the rustic dances, a good-natured romp and at first contained only simple steps, but later all kinds of difficult steps were introduced and many of the figures used in a minuet are found in the gavotte, though the latter is of a livelier nature. It is written in duple time and like the minuet is in ternary form. Often a second gavotte followed immediately after the first, and when it was played the performer repeated the first. There was always a contrast in character between the two, if one was in the minor key the other would follow in the tonic major or relative major key. This combining of the two really makes a ternary form, though each considered separately is a binary form.
Other dances often introduced into the suite are the bourrée or branle, the passepied and the minuet. The bourrée or branle, the passepied and the minuet. The bouree or branle, the passepied and the minuet. The nated in Auvergne, though some authorities call it a Spanish dance of Biscay, where it is still said to be performed. It is binary in form, lively tempo, in duple time, is similar in character to the gavotte, and as with the gavotte, the bourrée when used as a part of the suite; a second usually follows the first and then there is a repetition of the first, making a ternary form. It differs from the gavotte in that it always begins on the fourth crotchet of the measure while the gavotte begins with the third. The rigadoon is almost identical with the bourrée in musical form but is characterized by a peculiar jumping step. It is in 2-4 or in common time.
The passepied which, according to tradition, originated in Brittany is an old round dance which was famous in France during the time of Louis XIV., when it was introduced into the ballet. This dance was used not only between the last two movements of the suite but by some composers was placed before the saraband. It is written in 3-4 or 3-8 time, begins on the third note of the measure and is of a lively nature, and usually ternary in form.
Of the idealized dance forms earlier mentioned the minuet is the most important. It sprang from a dance of the same name and has found a permanent place not only in the old suite but in large instrumental classical works. Its origin has never been settled upon, though it is said to have come from Poitou. Doubtless it was an ancient dance, though the earliest known minuet music was composed by Lully in 1662 for Louis XIV. In form it is ternary and is written in 3-4 or 3-8 time. Bach preferred the former and Handel the 3-8 signature, as is shown by their works. With Haydn the old minuet lost some of its stateliness and became less solemn. In fact, many modern minuets are quite merry; the tempo is faster and the innovation introduced by Haydn of beginning on the third beat of the measure instead of the first gives a more delicate touch to the composition and makes it on the whole less heavy than the older form. An outgrowth of the minuet is the scherzo, the name derived from the Italian scherzare, to joke. In form it is like the minuet, so the name denotes merely the character of the music. While the minuet is always in 3-4 time the scherzo may be in duple or triple time, and in its more developed form almost ceases to belong to the dance forms.
The historic importance of the minuet lies in the fact that unlike other ancient dances it has not become obsolete but still holds its place as a part of large instrumental works. Haydn first introduced it into the symphony and Beethoven transformed it into the scherzo, since which time a large majority of composers have used the latter lighter treatment of the form in preference to the old minuet, as the quicker time and more varied rhythm are not as likely to prove monotonous. Mendelssohn used the older form in his Italian Symphony and Schumann in the second movement of the E flat Symphony, but generally speaking the history of the minuet ended with Beethoven.
The bolero, a characteristic dance of Spain, is usually written in 3-4 time, though there is a frequent change of time during the movement. The dancer accompanied the steps with castanets and the rhythm of these instruments gradually became a part of the music. It generally consists of two principal parts, each repeated and, a trio, making it of ternary form; frequently the castanet rhythm is heard through one or more measures before the melody begins. The bolero is used in many operas in its dance form complete and composers idealized it by using irregular rhythms though still retaining its chief characteristics.
Another dance form in favor with both instrumental and vocal composers is the Polish polonaise. Bach, Händel, Beethoven, Mozart, Schubert, Weber and Wagner, Chopin, and many Polish composers of less note than Chopin, have used it in large and small works. There are two theories existing in regard to the origin of the polonaise. One is that it was evolved from ancient Christmas carols such as are today sung in Poland, and it is true there is a likeness in the rhythm of the dance music and in the lines of the old carols ; and it is known also that at one time the dance was accompanied by singing, though the only polonaise music now in existence is purely instrumental. The more generally accepted theory is that it sprang from an old court dance or promenade. To celebrate his election to the Polish throne Henry III. of Anjou gave, in 1574, a grand reception at Cracow. The guests marched in stately procession past the throne to the sound of solemn music. This promenade became a part of court ceremonies and it is thought that the polonaise gradually developed from this and was used to open many Polish festivities.
Today, as a dance the polonaise is of little interest ; it still consists of a procession, in which old and young take part, moving several times around the room in solemn order with no particular step. In Germany court balls are opened with this dance, and in some places it has been modified, robbed of its dignity, and used for the close of an evening of dancing and called Der Auskehr, the turn-out. The entire company arm themselves with household implements, march through the house singing in chorus "When the Grandfather takes the Grandmother," a rollicking old song. Although as a dance the polonaise dates back several centuries it was not until the early Eighteenth Century that examples of it in its present musical form began to appear. Since then it has been a favorite form with many instrumental composers and has even been used by vocal composers in parts of Italian operas. It is usually written in 3-4 time, is of march tempo, generally begins on the first beat of the measure and consists, as a rule, of two parts and a trio. Its rhythm is very marked, sometimes almost martial, and again it is so treated as to create a dreamy, rather melancholy composition. These characteristics are especially true of Chopin's polonaises in which he depicts the struggles, the court splendor, the triumphs of his country. In truth, Chopin gives life and spirit to the old polonaise form.
Italy has given two well-known dances, the saltarello and tarantella. The first is of Roman origin and the name tells something of the nature of the dance (saltare, to jump). It was danced by one or two persons, with a quick hopping step, time increasing as the dance proceeded. The music is written in 3-4 or 6-8 time, is generally in a minor key, notes are staccato, and the hopping step is apparent in the rhythm. In an idealized form the saltarello is found in symphonies and other instrumental classical works.
Mendelssohn in his Italian Symphony used in the finale both the saltarello and the tarantella. The tarantella is in 6-8 time and gradually increases in speed as the dancers continue, and the music corresponds with the hilarity and mirth of the performers. Song, castanets or tambourines are used to accompany it and you will find the melody even in the extended and elaborate dance form well defined and the rhythm, as marked by the instruments, a characteristic. Many modern composers use this dance very effectively in instrumental works. There is a tradition that the tarantella derived its name from the tarantula, the huge spider whose bite was supposed to be cured by dancing. However, this is a bit of fiction. The name undoubtedly came from Taranto, a city of southern Italy, where the dance may have originated. It is true, nevertheless, that the dance was used in the supposition that it cured a nervous disorder known by the name of tarantism which was prevalent for many years in southern Italy. When the epidemic was at its worst during the Sixteenth Century bands of strolling musicians went from town to town furnishing the dance music for those afflicted. If forgetting one's ills and tiring one physically is efficacious in the treatment of hysterical subjects, the tarantella as danced by the Italians even at the present time certainly should prove a cure. Although it begins mildly and gently enough, in a few minutes the two, four or more dancers seem to be entirely carried away with the music, and heads, arms, legs and body are used in the wild gestures, the stamping, clapping, bodily contortions, running, hopping and, when enthusiasm reaches its height, even the voices of the performers assist in the gaiety. Different forms of tarantism required different music and different steps for their cure, and so sprang up several slightly different tarantellas.
Among the modern society dances the waltz is one of the most important. The origins of many of the dances are rather obscure, but that of the waltz is perhaps the most difficult of all modern dances to determine. The name at least is German from waltzen, to turn, and the Germans have generally claimed it as one of their productions. They trace it back to the old Drehtanz or turning dance which was danced by couples standing face to face or holding one another by one hand only, much the same as was done in the old English country dances. The French claim it to have been evolved from the old volta which was invented in Provence and introduced into Paris under Louis VII., and that in the Sixteenth Century it was carried to Germany and the name then changed to Walzer. Then when they, the French, again revived it they used the German title with French spelling and called it valse. This sounds rather questionable in that the old volta was probably an Italian dance, at least one would so think from the Italian title. The generally accepted belief is that it came directly from the peasant dance known by different names in different places, and the one usually given as its ancestor is the Austrian and Tyrolese länder. Under this name, or that of Schleifer, it is still danced at village festivals in Austria and Bavaria to the slow rhythms which Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert used in their waltzes.
About 1675 the now familiar "Ach du lieber Augustin" came into existence and it has been said this was the first tune to which the modern waltz was danced, and therefore it must have been an outgrowth of an older dance to be con-temporary with the song. There is no proof of this and 1780 is the date usually given for the first appearance of the modern dance. It reached England in 1797, though it did not become popular enough to call forth the severe criticism with which it met until the early Nineteenth Century. In spite of the attacks made upon this "fiend of German birth," "destitute of grace, delicacy and propriety," and of Lord Byron's savage treatment of the subject in his poem called The Waltz, it continued to gain in favor and soon all dancing England became devotees to the wiles of the fascinating waltz. In musical form the waltz is entirely different from other dances and is not as capable of high development, but works of lasting charm have been written in waltz form.
In its early form and among the works of Mozart and Beethoven the waltz was of simple binary form, and seldom any modulation occurred or if so it was always into a nearly related key. Schubert enlarged this form, and the more modern waltzes are often ternary in form. It is always in 3-4 time, with but one accented note in a measure, the first ; there is usually an introduction whose material may be in no way drawn from the waltz proper and not necessarily in waltz time, leading directly to the waltz or set of waltzes. There are four or five short numbered waltzes which are frequently repeated in the set, each as a rule consisting of two sixteen measure sentences or of three, in which case the third is a repetition of the first. These short waltzes follow one another, and while the bass and middle voices sustain the dance rhythm, the melody is unrestrained and affords great variety to the composition which closes with an elaborate coda or finale in waltz tempo, repeating in part some subjects already heard and often introducing a new theme.
Weber was one of the first composers to idealize the waltz form and bring it into the list of absolute musical forms, as is shown in his "Invitation to the Dance. Among the waltzes which followed in this idealized form the best will be found in the works of Chopin and Rubinstein. The Viennese composers excelled in the writing of waltz music for dancing. It was the elder Johann Strauss who first gave specific titles to waltzes and under the members of the Strauss family and Tabitzky and Gungl the form of dance waltz music we now have became fixed that is the form described; a short introduction, several waltzes following, and a coda repeating parts of the best movements,
Other modern dances are largely based on a two measure step with an even number of measures in each phrase or period. This even number is necessary to conform with the steps of the dancer. Among them are the polka, written in two-part primary form, each part repeated and in 2-4 time : the galop, of same form but of quicker tempo which has but one beat to the measure, whereas the polka has two, and the galop may be composed in a three-part primary form : and the polka mazurka, usually in three-part primary form in quick 3-4 time, differing from, the waltz in that the weak beats of the measure are usually accentuated.
The polka, in spite of its lack of real beauty, became popular wherever it was introduced. It was an invention of much later date than even the modern waltz and is supposed to be the creation of a peasant girl of Bohemia. A fellow countryman by the name of Neruda composed the music and it was originally known as the nimra, which name was taken from a song to which it was danced. It was in Prague that it received the name of polka which is supposed to be a description of the Czech pulka, meaning half, and given, because of the short or half-steps used by the dancer. A regimental band carried the polka from Bohemia to Vienna in 1859, the next year Paris had adopted it and five years later it reached London, and for many years was in every dance program of many countries, our own included.
As the dance forms were developed from the dances so the march forms grew from march steps. The original march was designed to accompany regular steps and so was always written in duple or quadruple time, the rhythm strongly marked, and was constructed on the simple binary form, divided into two parts, each of which was repeated. When, as in the case of the minuet, one or more trios followed the march, the form became ternary or rondo. The military is the simplest form of march, written in common time and is two-part primary or binary in form. A more pretentious form is the festival march, an extension of the ternary, having a second trio added in 4-4 time. It consists of a series of subjects with usually no transitions between, the marked characteristic being a regular return to the first subject. The order is introduction, first subject, second subject or first trio, first subject, third subject or second trio, first subject and coda. The second and third subjects have trio relationship, the first subject usually being in the same key throughout or in a very closely related key. The time continues the same during the entire composition. The best known examples of the festival march are Mendelssohn's "Wedding March," from the "Midsummer Night's Dream," and Wagner's "Tannhäuser." The tempo of marches of course depends upon the nature of the composition; the funeral marches of Händel, Beethoven and Chopin are very slow, while the so-called quicksteps are very rapid, and others are moderately rapid or slow according to the use to which they are put, but in form they vary but little and in the majority of cases can be classed as simple binary or ternary.
Following the ternary form in importance is the rondo, a very old form, both the name and form being derived from the old French rondeau or round, meaning a returning, a coming around, the word signifying the general structure of a class of Sixteenth Century French songs, so arranged that the opening and closing two lines were the same. One of H. C. Bunner's verses perfectly illustrates the form:
A pitcher of mignonette
In a tenement's highest casement;
Queer sort of flower-pot—yet
That pitcher of mignonette
Is a garden in heaven set,
To the little sick child in the basement—
The pitcher of mignonette
In the tenement's highest casement.
The musical rondo very closely follows this literary form, and while the parts are distinct and easily recognizable they form one continuous, concrete whole, to quote a line from an old French rondeau it should be :
Wrought as a ring with no break in its roundness.
Here all the movements or parts are subservient to one principal theme called the first subject, found at the beginning of the rondo, always returning to this first subject, the style and key of which determines the character of the entire composition, and we will always rightfully expect in this form that there will be a return to the first subject and in elaboration of the form a reiteration of it throughout the composition.
The first rondo form is naturally the simplest and consists only of the first subject and the repetition of the first subject in the same key separated by a passage in a different key, technically known as a transition, digression, an episode or intermezzo, an Italian word derived from the Latin intermedius, meaning coming between, the same word being used for selections played between the acts in early Italian tragedies ; it is also at the present time given to in-dependent composition of the same general character, so that the word transition, signifying being in transit, gives perhaps the clearest, most unmistakable meaning.
The second rondo form consists of a first subject, a transition, a second subject, another transition, and a return to the first subject.
The third rondo form consists of the first subject, a transition, the second subject, a transition, the first subject, a transition, the third subject, a transition, and a return to the first subject. In this long form the intermediate subjects and transitions are condensed or shortened in order not to ex-tend the bounds of the entire composition beyond a reason-able length. Some of those writers who used the term episode instead of transition make a distinction, that is, a rondo contains more than one episode, and the name inter-mezzo is applied to the passages, but it is impossible to find any reason for this distinction, as there is no difference in the form of the different connecting links between the subjects and many writers use the words episode or intermezzo interchangeably in connection with the rondo so that the word transition seems to be the most distinct and definite.
In all of the longer and many of the first rondo forms the composition was opened by an introduction and terminated by a coda, both of which may vary in length.
The culmination of the classical form is found in the sonata. The word is derived from a Latin word meaning "sound" and was first used in distinction to the toccata, a piece of execution merely. By all composers it has been the name applied to the best form of instrumental music of the time and as now used the name stands for a definite musical composition comprising two or more movements. Most commonly there are three of these parts, often five and occasion-ally even more. The sonata is a direct outgrowth of the old suite and came into existence, though not in its present classic form, with the perfection of the violin by the Italian instrument makers. The violin places so few restrictions upon the musician as there is so little mechanism between player and instrument, that when it was made so perfect as to respond to every mood of the musician, he began to experiment and to overcome, by skill in stopping and bowing, the mechanical difficulties which had before prevented him from obtaining the finest, purest tone and fluency of motion. The violin is a solo instrument and the contrapuntal devices which had been occupying the attention of composers were not fitted to this instrument and an effort was made to find a more suitable form which would depend upon the correct handling of melodic passages accompanied by simple harmonies, rather than interwoven melodies which depend upon themselves for accompaniment. As we have seen, the purely dance tunes had already been grouped and several woven into one composition, but now musicians felt the need of a more unified form, something that would admit of melodic expression, give an impression of definite tonality and retain the rhythmic vitality necessary to all instrumental music. They used the method of form adopted in the dance movements of the suites, but improved upon it by making more definite the subjects used, by elaborating the divisions, varying the key and making the parts balance each other more perfectly.
The sonata form in its present developed state consists of three principal parts. For the first theme no name has been agreed upon, the name exposition being perhaps the best one. It determines the whole character of the first movement and is indeed used in naming the sonata, as the composition is commonly recognized as being the sonata of the key of the first movement, unless there is conferred upon it a special name conveying an idea of its poetical meaning, such as Pastoral or Moonlight; occasionally the name of the man to whom it is dedicated distinguishes it. In giving the title to the grand division of the sonata form next following the exposition we are again confronted by a diversity of terms. Some American theorists call it the development ; their English brothers, the free fantazie ; while the translation of the German term is the working-out passage. As in other instances of conflicting terms, one is as correct as another, and here each of the terms really conveys a clear idea of what the division stands for: development and working out, because in this portion of the sonata the themes of the exposition are usually the basis from which the composer works toward the third division; free fantazie, because here he is free to exercise his genius in every possible way in displaying technical skill, imagination and passion. Like the development of the plot in a novel or drama the themes are here treated as characters and placed in all possible new relationships and entanglements which were in no wise suspected when the subjects were first introduced. The composer here uses his utmost fancy without becoming fantastic, and in this part in his power, grasp, contrivance and suggestion we find the work of the master. As always where great opportunity is given there is the possibility of failure, a weakness will be discovered here if anywhere in the sonata. The third part is a repetition of part one, a recapitulation and unifying of the whole.
The exposition is a development of the binary form before explained, each of the parts of the sonata form being somewhat modified from those of the three-part song form. The part corresponding to the first period is in the exposition known as the subject. This first subject as a rule comprises some phrase formation and often closes with a half-cadence, being very much like the antecedent phrase of a period. A second subject follows the first after a short transition which, in major keys, leads to and modulates generally into the dominant key, the usual key of the second subject, which is variable in length and has no definite form. This second theme is frequently lyrical in style and is there-fore often called the song group; it comes to a close in the dominant key and is followed by a codetta varying in length according to the design of the composer. There is often a double bar with repetition marks at the end of the codetta and all of part one is again repeated. Now comes part two, the development or working-out passage. The motives of the first and second subjects are used and developed in this fugally, canonically by inversion or other devices, according to the genius and taste of the composer, and it leads up to the return of part one, which is entirely repeated; but now the second subject, instead of appearing as in part one, is given in the tonic, the entire movement closing in that key. This practically completes the sonata form, and no matter how many movements are added, how elaborate or simple the composition may be, the characteristics as here noted are always found as the basis of all sonatas.
The sonata of three movements has been chosen for description as it is the typical and most common form, and where there are more movements added they are all subservient to this type form, and by many of the best critics the added movements are regarded as interpolations which detract from the symmetry of the composition. The forms in the sonata usually have Italian titles given them, which indicate the tempo with which they are to be played, and sometimes something of their character. In the playing of a sonata the performer usually rests a few moments between each of the movements, these interruptions having a tendency to mislead the hearer into the belief that the sonata is a disjointed collection of unrelated sections, which is not entirely correct, and in order to do away with the danger of this misunderstanding, later composers have indicated that the sonata be played without interruption. The sonata, as we have noted, was evolved for a solo instrument, but may be written for two or more instruments. If the accompaniment be written for the orchestra this composition becomes a concerto; the trios, quartets and other pieces of chamber music of the classical period are in this form and the music for string quartets is by many authorities considered the most intellectual form of musical composition. In them so much is demanded of each instrument and the composer is so limited in material that every detail must be perfectly adjusted, and it is extremely difficult to balance the parts for the instruments to bring each equally into prominence without any one subordinating the others. The earliest developments of the sonata form were known as either the "sonata de chiesa" (church sonata), or the "sonata da camera" (chamber sonata). In the church sonata there were three or four movements quick and slow, one or more in fugato or other contrapuntal style, which were somewhat serious in character and derived from the old choral music; while the chamber sonata was secular in style and simply a grouping of dance movements which, as we have seen, constituted a suite. While the violin was brought into prominence at this stage, music was also being written for other bowed, and for wind instruments, such as the concerto da camera, which was really the precursor of the string quartet and the symphony. In it other instruments appeared in connection with the violin in accompanying or contrasting parts, not merely as a bass accompaniment to the solo sonata but by playing now in unison, now in rivalry with a group of instruments. From these three forms the modern sonata was evolved. Except for the polyphonic music, described in the previous chapters, all music of importance had depended upon words for under-standing, but now works were produced in this new form which were complete, well balanced, perfectly adapted to instrumentai performance and capable of appealing to the emotions through the intellect as less perfect forms had never done.
In all cycle forms, that is, works in which two or more movements are combined to form a homogeneous whole, the distribution of parts is very much the same. The composer realizes that in order to convey his meaning to you he must present his subject in many aspects, he must make you feel the wholeness of his work by making clear its many parts, and to make it ring true he must appeal to both emotional and intellectual sensibilities, in other words, it must abide by the laws of all art and make in every respect a perfectly balanced composition. First there must be something to call and hold for a moment the attention and prepare you in a measure for what is to follow; and then while the mind is ready the appeal to the intellect is at once made either by an elaborate, even heavy movement, or a slow, pathetic one, but is immediately followed by something piquant, at least a lighter and livelier movement appealing to the emotions; and then, that there may be no overabundance of the more frivolous vein, there comes as a contrast and a rest, a slow, serious part with, in the classic form, a final rounding out in the finale by a repetition of part one in the original key.
We follow this rather brief description of the all important sonata form by word pictures of four of Beethoven's well-known sonatas hoping they will aid the reader not only to more fully appreciate these splendid works, but through an understanding of them we trust he will have a clearer; more definite idea of what is meant by form or design in music.
