To my delight, the people at Texas Tech theory read my previous post and responded in the comments section. I wrote a reply to be posted there, but as it turned out to be several paragraphs long, and since this blog is still young and in need of "feeding", I have decided to go ahead and make a new post out of it.
Naturally, I'm glad to hear that Schenkerian theory is taught in their department, at least to upper-level students; and of course it's better that beginning students use a textbook that is "influenced" by Schenker than one which isn't. But one of the ideas I would like to see disappear is the notion that analysis of the kind associated with Schenker is an "advanced" topic, for which students need to be "prepared" by training in Roman-numeral labelling. Let me put it this way: freshman theory texts should be modelled on Westergaard's An Introduction to Tonal Theory (which does not put a single Roman numeral under any musical excerpt), and not on Piston's Harmony (I consider it scandalous that the Westergaard book is out of print, while Piston's not only continues to be widely used itself, but serves as the apparent model even for books written by committed Schenkerians such as Aldwell and Schachter.)
Westergaard's book (unlike, perhaps, the Wikipedia article about it ) is designed for freshmen. Although he expects students to already know how to read music, Westergaard in fact systematically explains musical notation in Chapter 2: the discussion of each fundamental musical element (e.g. pitch, rhythm, etc.) contains an explanation of the corresponding notational device. That's exactly how it should be done--which is basically what I would say about the entire book.
Although first-year theory is taken mostly by music majors, the appropriate pedagogical analogy in mathematics is not with courses designed specifically for math majors (of which there aren't really any before the 300 level), but with introductory calculus, where students in fact aren't expected to know what an integral is to start with. Just as it's entirely possible (and by no means unheard of) to start at that level and go on to become a research mathematician, so too should it be possible to major in music without knowing very much about music at first. What really matters, in terms of educational quality, is not the level of the instruction students receive, but the extent to which that instruction is systematic--and systematic instruction, after all, necessarily starts at the very beginning.
Actually, one of my biggest complaints about the traditional music curriculum is that it doesn't start at the beginning. Almost immediately after learning clefs, key signatures, and the like, a student is expected to manipulate four-voice counterpoint! Under these circumstances, is it any wonder that aural skills classes tend to be a nightmare?
In fact, the main use of Roman numerals seems to be as a method of cheating on dictation exercises. We in effect say "Look, we know that at this stage in your training, you can't possibly be expected to accurately parse these complicated textures by ear. So here are some common 'formulae' to memorize--chances are, the person at the piano is playing a version of one of these, so you can use this information to have a better chance of transcribing the passage accurately." Why bother with such a roundabout way of ear training? Why not start with a single voice, and only after mastering that moving on to two, three, and so on? (Why are students virtually never asked to do "partwriting" in two voices? Shouldn't that be a prerequisite to doing it in four?)
With regard to the alleged distinction between "compositional" and "analytical" theory, I see the matter basically as follows: any systematic study of the structure of music from the perspective of sentient human beings deserves to be called "analytical theory". If there is such a thing as "compositional theory" (that isn't also analytical theory), it can only refer to methods of generating music without knowing what music sounds like. As a branch of AI research, this could be a legitimate field of study; but it has nothing directly to do with the musical training of human musicians (composers or otherwise). After all, the only job of a composer is to put together ("com-pose") music that he or she wishes to bring into existence. The requirements for this task are exactly two: (1) the ability to imagine the sound of music that does not already exist, and (2) a means of preserving these musical creations of the imagination, such as a notational system. While composers, like anyone else, may also be interested in studying music from a third-person perspective (one that would ask about the causal relationships that obtain between acoustical events and brain responses, for example), such an interest is by no means an occupational requirement.
(The apparent failure to understand that musical knowledge consists of experiential knowledge leads to the absurdity of "prescriptive" pedagogy, such as we find in many orchestration books: "Avoid placing the oboes above the flutes." Interpreted as "advice" for practical musicians such as composers, this is at best a complete waste of ink. As a composer, you should know what it would sound like if oboes were placed above flutes, and if you do, then you either want that effect or you don't--you presumably don't need to be informed of your own desires by a book. If useless prescriptions of this sort are what people mean by "compositional theory", then the latter is, well, useless.)
Let me ask the Texas Tech faculty (or anyone else out there) this question: how exactly would your approach to any passage of music (say, one of the Beethoven examples discussed previously) differ if you were teaching composition students, as opposed to history, theory, or performance students? And why?
5 comments:
Interesting post. I am posting a slightly modified version on my own blog.
Let me first begin by saying that I do agree with your point of view about theory curricula and our seeming over-dependence on Roman numerals and chorale textures as a vehicle for teaching harmony. As many of my students have expressed over the years, it doesn't truly represent the true experience of music. Schenkerian theory provides a better approximation, but still falls short of the mark, at least in my opinion.
That being said, the question does indeed come down to the best way to systematically present musical material in a way that allows for both a clear understanding of the material as well as the practical application of newly found knowledge. (“The right knowledge at the right time” is how a former pedagogue once explained it to me.) That is ever the challenge for any teacher.
I have recently (finally) been given my own choice of textbook, and my decision to adopt a relatively new offering (The Musician’s Guide) has been fueled, in large part, by this very problem. Though still not (in my eyes) perfect, this text begins with the usual discussions of fundamentals, proceeds to two-voice counterpoint, notation, and basic instrumentation before moving to a more traditional four-voice presentation of harmony. Along the way it provides a large variety of well-presented musical examples from a variety of genres and styles.
It is my hope that this will provide students, especially in their impressionable first semester, with a more intuitive beginning to their formal theoretical training and will lay the groundwork for subsequent discussions of the works/passages that delve more deeply and meaningfully into the “art” of the music. As we all know, the best lectures/discussions are those that reveal hidden subtleties in a passage and then lead the students to make those magical connections to other works that they have performed and studied.
It also makes theory more pertinent to the student, a common enough problem at any program but especially problematic at my school, where the majority of students are aspiring music therapists. While I strive to be certain that they have a solid background in traditional theory, I am slowly learning that they also require a great deal more "practical" theory (is that an oxymoron or what??) than students at more traditional programs. (Words fail to describe the different approach, perhaps in a few more years I’ll have a more quantifiable explanation of this phenomenon.)
In the end, I would say that I am providing an introduction to the vocabulary of music as much as well as teaching them to be free thinkers and creative musicians. The two should not be mutually exclusive. A good semester for me is always one where the students come away knowing the “rules” but also understanding that these “rules” are in truth merely guidelines applied or ignored by composers depending on circumstance and need. It is especially rewarding when students can see (at least occasionally) how the “rules” are regularly broken or modified (particularly by the “great” composers) and evolve through use rather than through consistent and rigid application. After all, how do you define “great” or even “good” if you can’t explain what constitutes “average?”
As to the final question, in my experience (upon which I model my own compositional teaching) my best composition teachers were those that facilitated my learning by fostering, among other things, my ability to A) imagine the music (orchestrated) in my head, B) understand how a composer achieved a certain effect/sound/passage, C) developing my sense of form and proportion, and D) gently molding my general aesthetic (as opposed to style) by pointing out less successful passages (according to their own aesthetic) and suggesting possible improvements while not demanding them.
Therefore, when I teach composition, theory rarely enters the conversation and when it does, it tends to focus on issues of meter, rhythm, orchestration, and motive far more than discussions of pitch collections and harmony. Though I almost always start a student with some basic acoustical properties, especially with regards to dissonance and consonance, pitch is well down the list of priorities for a variety of reasons and thus discussions of passages from the classical canon tend to be far different than those that might occur in a theory classroom or between myself and a theorist colleague.
As a final thought, I feel that the prescriptive nature of orchestration texts comes from their use in courses primarily directed at non-compositional musicians who have never really imagined these sounds in their head. They seem to have evolved more as reference books for the harried musician than as effective tools for teaching what is essentially an experiential process. In fact, the only time I ever open my own copy (beyond teaching) is when I can’t remember the lowest note of whatever instrument it might be that I haven’t written for in a while.
A much better use of the prescriptive text would be to show the example of what not to do and then provide a recording of why it sounds bad compared to a better fix to the problem. I have learned far more about orchestration by listening to my mistakes and failures than I ever will from listening to success.
James,
I am happy I am not the only one who can see how essential the solid ear-training has been to music-learning, and how much our modern music teaching lacks in this area.
As an independent teacher I have been working with university students who
experienced what you described: a lecturer draws modulating harmonic
passages on the board/screen, occasionally turning to students to ask "You can hear how it all changes, right?" - which proves to be mostly for his self-assurance, since, as every subsequent test proves, in the big hall there is just a handful of those who could hear what he meant.
Have these persistently poor results, over years, influenced any adjustments in the course? No, not at all; it continues - in the same, purely Darwinian, style.
Mark would like to believe that the issue is in a better chord identification
system (I assume we do not debate the need for such system). He prefers to
believe (aware or not, as it's the dominant "modern" trend) that music is about knowledge, so, the better this knowledge is structured in teaching,
the better the results.
Sorry, Mark, no such system would ever work well without prior tedious,
methodical ear training; and if done... then 'any' such system would work
well.
On the side, I am still surprised that no one's been questioning why was the V 4-6 chord named I 4-6 in our basic harmony courses. The only explanation I ever heard was that it was done "to make it easier for students," as this chord
"looks like" tonic in 2nd inversion. Why can't anyone see that such approach totally misses this chord's energetical value? Only people who
never had good ear training could find such term right.
It proves that, in harmony, we're talking mathematics and "looks" above anything else.
To that, I had even seen few musically-challenged students (i.e. deprived of any form of useful sound imagining) who always managed to complete their harmony assignments very well. Where does such learning lead us - when such students try composing next?
To all that, let me add here a little historical note I read on a peculiar
experience of Igor Stravinsky who once toured America's leading
universities, visiting composition departments.
Only somewhere in the middle of his trip he became aware that all these
young composition hopefuls he's been talking to did not share his ability to
internalize sounds and compose in the mind - qualities that he considered rudimental and indispensable in this line of work. He cut his trip short.
I can only ask: how different is it today?
(Please, note I am not saying that composing at the instrument is not a
justifiable way of doing it; only that it shouldn't be the dominant or the
only approach to composing.)
Paul R.
I'm not sure what, in my comment led you to make any assumptions about what I do, or do not, believe regarding aural skills training as I never once mentioned that aspect of a typical theory curriculum. It is clearly the most contentious and problematic aspect of any theory sequence and requires a great deal of flexibility and creativity in the classroom. I am actually planning to try a completely non-traditional approach this year, hoping for better results and more satisfied students.
However, I will agree with you about the second inversion cadential function harmony, which can be clearly taught, and heard, as an embellishment of the dominant and rarely, if ever, as a tonic harmony. Fortunately, in recent years it has become standard practice and taken for granted that this harmony should be taught, and labeled where appropriate, as a dominant.
As to why it was taught the other way? I have never received a satisfactory answer, even from those who authored textbooks using this label. Unfortunately, I think your "It looks easier" comment is the most accurate.
I am sure that there are many who, for whatever reason, still teach the older method, but I would imagine that many of them do not do so out of a conscious desire to obfuscate the issue. (Though I have met some with some rather curious, and jealously guarded, beliefs about music that run contrary to everything that I understand about harmony.)
Mark,
My familiarity with The Musician's Guide (mentioned both by you and TTU) is entirely derived from cursory browsing in the bookstore (and a brief reminder glance at the table of contents), but it does appear to be a significant improvement on the "traditional" syllabus (it discusses two-voice counterpoint before adding more voices, for example); I would agree that it represents a step, possibly a large one, in the right direction. Nevertheless, it does not seem to completely eschew the eclectic in favor of the systematic, and some aspects of "tradition" linger on: why, for instance, is chapter 7 on "Triads and Seventh Chords" as opposed to either just "Triads" (or, even better, "The Triad") on the one hand, or "Fifth, Seventh, Ninth, and Thirteenth Chords" (or, better still, "Building Chords With Thirds") on the other?
A good semester for me is always one where the students come away knowing the “rules” but also understanding that these “rules” are in truth merely guidelines applied or ignored by composers depending on circumstance and need.
Although I realize that we probably have a significant amount to agree upon, I am nonetheless obliged to point out that the view you have expressed here is one of the main targets of my critique. Pace Walter Piston, the subject matter of music theory is not empirical generalization about the practice of composers--that, indeed, is a task of music history. The subject matter of music theory is, rather, the processes in terms of which music is understood . (The use of the word "understood" here rather than "composed", "performed", or "heard", is absolutely crucial.)
That makes it difficult for me to understand how the following could possibly be true:
Therefore, when I teach composition, theory rarely enters the conversation
Paul,
Mark would like to believe that the issue is in a better chord identification
system (I assume we do not debate the need for such system).
I do! In fact I would be in favor of a moratorium on all chord labelling, to allow time for notions of "hamonic theory" to be flushed out of our system. Only then might we be able to engage in some sort of responsible form of taxonomy, if we find it useful to do so.
Mark, you wrote
> I'm not sure what, in my
> comment led you to make
> any assumptions...
You have been kind enough
to answer your question, in
the same paragraph:
> I never once mentioned
> that aspect of a typical
> theory curriculum.
As ear training was what James was concerned about, I found this topic pain-fully wanting.
> It is clearly the most
> contentious and problema-> tic aspect of any theory
sequence...
So, I still can't agree with you. It has never been contentious or proble-matic for me - or for quite a number of teachers I met in other countries on the globe.
There's no advanced music without solid ear-training.
(Being a foremostly auditory art, it saw several well-known attempts at turning it into mostly intellectual activity, subordinating
it to intellectual agenda,
already misfired - jazz included.
Well, they say it's nothing wrong in trying...)
> ..I have met some with
> some rather curious, and > jealously guarded,
> beliefs about music
Same here, especially with respect to piano teaching. Zealously, truly religious-ly-held beliefs that oft defy basic logic.
Well, it's only music - the "catch-as-catch-can" realm open to all to do whathever... right?
Mark,
I'm happy to hear that there's someone else who also wants to disturb this
solid grip that tonal harmony has had on today's music, especially in its
reigning pop edition!
(If this assault would also result in dethroning of the tempered system, it's even better).
Nevertheless, while going for these considerable anarchies we mustn't forget that tonal system was not any sort of a foreign idea, imposed on music by external forces: it developed upon tangible tendencies of human hearing.
To that, many (most) of humanity's highest achievements in musical art, including some of the more recent, had been based on tonality (also by
referring to it).
Therefore, I see it as necessary to supply our students with means of
understanding both approaches; here, though, the tonal system, as more
structured, offers better base for - selfsame - teaching.
That (and only that, supposedly) is why we teach the "tonal" first.
But it all only exposes how much more is there that we should (are expec-ted to) teach, well beyond few intervals and simple harmony progressions... Alas, for quite conside-rable time, a strong ten-dency has been toward tea-ching less..., and ... it suits pop's easy approach better...
Lost battle it has been.
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