The 8-to-16-to-32 bar narrative

This expands on (corrects, qualifies) a comment I made in a recomposition post:

Note: The pairing of contrasting strains in these small [16-bar] waltzes is very probably the source of the paired 32-bar strains that had become the typical design by the generation of Johann Strauss, jr.

A number of years ago I constructed an informal narrative of formal designs in nineteenth-century dances and related works. In that narrative, the small forms of most dances, including the great majority of Schubert's waltzes, ecossaises, and galops, evolved gradually from 16 bars (8 + 8) to 32 bars by the middle of the century, the work of the second generation Strausses being representative. A parallel history expanded the 8-bar strain (the 8-bar theme of Caplin) to 16 (following the 16-bar period or sentence of Caplin). My history expanded these all still more to "paired 32-bar strains," the paradigm being the first waltz in The Blue Danube (An der schönen blauen Donau, Op. 314 (1867)).

The eight-bar design of the first strain might fit any of Caplin's types, period, sentence, or hybrid. The second eight-bar strain might develop the same material or be strongly contrasting, and the designs thus range from contrasting middle with cadence to a new period or sentence.

As in Caplin's system, the 16-bar theme weakens the final cadence of an eight-bar theme, permitting an expansion through a developmental continuation or through the repetitive consequent. (Note that there is a very close relationship between the 16-bar period and an 8-bar period enclosed in repeat signs.)

The 32-bar theme, then, goes one step further, weakening the final cadence of the 16-bar theme, thus permitting another level of expansion. (As with the 16-bar period, note that there is a very close relationship between the 32-bar period and a 16-bar period enclosed in repeat signs.)

Alas, such neatly reductive histories are almost always too good to be true. The first waltz of The Blue Danube does open with a 32-bar sentence, which is followed by a 16-bar period enclosed in repeat signs. The contrast is strong, including a key change, so that the two strains really sound more like a dance-trio pair -- but Strauss actually repeats the entire pair, so that the overall design is ABAB, and the key sequence D-A-D-A.

None of the other waltzes in The Blue Danube is constructed this way: nos. 2 & 3 are ternary forms whose A & B are both 16-bar themes; no. 4 also has 16-bar strains but both A & B are repeated; and no. 5 is also like no. 1 in that respect but the two strains are "flipped," -- the first is a repeated 16-bar theme, the second a 32-bar period.

If this hints at variety of design in the individual numbers of the Strauss waltzes, that is a much better characterization than my too-clean developmental history. Here a few other examples:

Morgenblätter, Op. 279 (1864): all five waltzes are in dance-trio designs played as ABA. Nos. 1 & 2 are 32 bars in the first strain, 16 in repeat signs in the second. Nos. 3-5 use 16-bar themes in repeat signs for both strains.

Rosen aus dem Süden, Op. 388 (1880): the first waltz is quite close to the first waltz in The Blue Danube, but the first strain is also enclosed in repeat signs; the second waltz relates to the first waltz in The Blue Danube in a different way--again 32 + 16, but the repetition of the second strain is dropped, for an overall ABA design; no. 3 is ABA, with repeat signs for both 16-bar strains; no. 4 (the last in this set) is in effect a 64-bar theme: the final cadence of a 16-bar theme closes normally but the repetition is written out as a reorchestrated tutti whose own final cadence is a PAC in the dominant key, not the tonic, after which what would otherwise have been a second strain rushes in with its own 32-bar sentence (Strauss even tacks on an 8-bar coda extension).

Geschichten aus dem Wienerwald, op. 325 (1868): no. 1 is similar to the last waltz in Op. 388, but the entire 64-bar complex is repeated; no. 2 has two 16 bar strains in repeat signs set out in ABAB format; no. 3 differs only in its ABA format; no. 4 differs in that the repeat of the second strain is written out due to orchestration changes and the format is simply AB; no. 5 is like no. 3.

Final note: these descriptions are based on the piano solo editions (most Strauss waltzes were first published that way). I have not consulted the orchestral scores.

Waltz publications during Schubert's lifetime

The publication of Schubert's Valses sentimentales was announced in the Wiener Zeitung on 21 November 1825. Opp. 2-4 of Josef Lanner were announced at the same time. For reference, Johann Strauss, sr., began publishing his waltzes in earnest by no later than 1828 (several galops were published in that year, also), and he had reached Op. 41 (the Fra Diavolo Cotillons) by the end of 1830.

Of the roughly 290 extant waltzes, Ländler, and deutsche Tänze, 165 were published during Schubert's lifetime. These include a few scattered individual pieces and seven larger sets: D145, 365, 734, 779, 783, 924, and 969. It is impossible to know how many dances found their way -- in original, revised, or recomposed versions -- into sets published years later, but in general it seems reasonable to regard D145 and 365 as representing Schubert's earlier years (before 1821); D734 and 779 the most active years of socializing and playing for dancing; and D783, 924, and 969 the later years, the period beginning with the first treatments for syphilis early in 1823.

We might note also that it was 1826 when Schubert's Trauerwalzer, D365n2, first appeared under Beethoven's name with the title "Favoritwalzer" and shortly again thereafter as "Sehnsuchtswalzer" (Kinsky 727), After that, the little piece's fate was sealed, and it was republished any number of times throughout the nineteenth century. Already by 1831, it had acquired English words (under the title "The Maid of Elsmere"). By 1870, American publishers had attributed as many as seventy waltzes to Beethoven; a very small number were actually his, including WoO11, no. 7, a Ländler that was Americanized as the "Cactus Waltz" (Kinkeldey 245-46).

References:

Kinkeldey, Otto. "The Beginnings of Beethoven in America." Musical Quarterly 13/2 (1927): 217-48.

Kinsky, Georg. Hans Halm, ed. Das Werk Beethovens: Thematisch-Bibliographisches Verzeichnis seiner Sämtlichen Vollendeten Kompositionen. Munich-Duisburg: Henle, 1955.

Seven Types of Ambiguity

Early on, while thinking about ways to "rack up" numbers of readings, I naturally thought of William Empson 's Seven Types of Ambiguity (1930). A brilliant youthful effort by the idiosyncratic literary critic, Seven Types lays out and explores a variety of double meanings in poetry. (On the whole, "double meanings" is a better descriptor than "ambiguity.") Exaggerated claims have been made about the book's influence on the American school of New Criticism, possibly because Empson received long-standing support from I. A. Richards, who was indeed one of the important influences on Cleanth Brooks and other principal New Critics.

[Note added 1-09-10: S. E. Hyman, writing in 1952, does have a point in noting John Crowe Ransom's positive assessments of Empson (297-98), but he overstates things when he claims a substantial influence of Empson on the "Southern school." Hyman says, for example, that Understanding Poetry "makes frequent reference to Empson" (298), but that is certainly not true of the first edition (1938): the only critics mentioned there are F. W. Bateson, L. C. Knights, Chard Powers Smith, Ransom, and I. A. Richards. As Hyman notes, Empson's views on Thomas Gray's Elegy are given a page, but only in the context of a (critical) assignment (Brooks and Warren 1938, 514-515; Hyman, 299). Hyman is apparently referring to a later edition, but I find little if any change in the one I have in hand: the revised "Complete Edition," published in 1950. Most significantly, there is no mention of Empson at all in the newly added essay "Ambiguity, Added Dimension, and Submerged Metaphor" (1950, 571-591). The relationship of Brooks and Empson is probably best described as that of rival disciples of Richards. Hyman himself (who was obviously an Empson advocate) summarizes their jousting in rival reviews (298-99).]

Unfortunately, Empson's categories don't translate easily to music--the distinctions between them can be subtle, requiring the support of the capacities of language, the sorts of distinctions that are either far more difficult to grasp in music or may simply not be there. Sylvia Imeson's attempt at a one-on-one mapping of the seven types onto music fell short; one notes that her work has rarely been cited since in the burgeoning literature on irony, paradox, metaphor, and humor in music.

It may also be true that the highly ritualized manner by which historical European musics are heard (and have been heard for well over 100 years now) has obliterated the kinds of gestural and topical understandings that would be fine enough to enable reading/hearing by means of ambiguity on Empson's terms. Until those understandings are reconstructed (as in the ongoing project of Robert Hatten, for example), it may be impossible to chart them against one another in systems of double meaning.

References:

Empson, William. Seven Types of Ambiguity. London: Chatto and Windus, 1930.

Imeson, Sylvia. "The time gives it proofe": Paradox in the Late Music of Beethoven. New York: Peter Lang, 1996.

Hatten, Robert. Musical Meaning in Beethoven: Markedness, Correlation, and Interpretation.Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1994.

Hatten, Robert. Interpreting Musical Gestures, Topics, and Tropes: Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2004.

Brooks, Cleanth, and Robert Penn Warren. Understanding Poetry: An Anthology for College Students. New York: Henry Holt, 1938.

Brooks, Cleanth, and Robert Penn Warren. Understanding Poetry. Complete Edition. Revised. New York: Henry Holt, 1950.

Hyman, Stanley Edgar. The Armed Vision: A Study in the Methods of Modern Literary Criticism. New York: Knopf, 1952.

Gesellschaftspiel; pianos

Here is a detail from a fanciful painting [watercolor] that depicts the Schubert-Kreis in a combination tableau entertainment and party game similar to Charades. Schubert himself sits in a corner of the room, at the piano. I don't know who the fellow is staring intently in Schubert's direction [one source says "Hartmann" -- that would be either Franz or Fritz von Hartmann] [update 2-20-10: according to Dieckmann, it's one Welser von Hartmann, relation to the brothers unknown (120)], but the visual parallel between Schubert and the dog [the artist Kupelwieser's dog Drago (118)] suggests the amount of (perhaps not always rewarding) work involved in playing for "endless cotillons" (dances that can last an hour at a time). (Diary notations and reminiscences from 1829 through the 1870s contradict one another: in some of them Schubert declares he loves to play for dancing; in others he seems borne down by the tedium of playing for hours and is happy to cede place to his friend Josef von Gahy, who was said to perform Schubert's own waltzes with "fiery spirit.") [Here is a link to a small but good-quality image: CorbisImages.] [edits 12-28-09]

The counter to this interpretation is the truly remarkable fact that Schubert did not have regular access to a piano as he composed. Robert Winter, in the New Grove biographical sketch of Schubert, writes that in late 1824,"on his return to Vienna [from Zseliz] Schubert moved briefly – probably for financial reasons – for one last time into the Schubert family home in the Rossau. To be sure, it was the only place he ever lived in that contained a piano; Schubert never bought, leased or borrowed a piano of his own." Since he composed on a regular basis throughout the morning (one of the few disciplined parts of his life, apparently), this means that great swathes of Schubert's music were written "in his head," that is, without assistance from an instrument, at least not from a keyboard.

[update 2-20-10: I am still trying to trace this history of Schubert's instrumentarium. Given that he was a proficient violinist, it's not unreasonable to assume that he would have owned that instrument, perhaps for most or all of his adult life, but so far I have found no reference in the literature. And, as to the piano, here is a bit of counter-evidence in a drawing by Moritz von Schwind, made in 1821 and called "Schuberts Zimmer."

end update]

This also means that playing for dancing might have been far less onerous than I suggested above, because Schubert might have happily used the time to make "sound experiments," to try out melodies -- or, more likely, progressions or key relations -- that he had already written or wanted to write but might not be able to auralize sufficiently. Maurice Brown's comment about the dances as "notebooks" for larger compositions, then, is on the mark but too text-oriented -- the dances as "sound experiments" would be a better description. [added text 12-19-09: Brown speculates that Schubert used casual dance improvisations "as 'journals' or 'notebooks' in which the composer was able to try out...new ideas and techniques that might later be developed in more substantial pieces" (Brown cited in Brodbeck 32). Brian Newbould follows out this idea by making comparisons between dances and some of Schubert's sonata movements.]

References:

Brodbeck, David. "Dance Music as High Art: Schubert's Twelve Ländler, op. 171 (D. 790)." In Walter Frisch, ed., Schubert: Critical and Analytical Studies, pp. 31-47. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1986.

[added] Dieckmann, Friedrich. Franz Schubert: eine Annäherung. Frankfurt am Main: Insel Verlag, 1996.

Newbould, Brian. "Cornered in the Middle Eight: Dance Miniaturism vis-à-vis Sonata." In Newbould, ed. Schubert the Progressive: History, Performance Practice, Analysis, 107-116. Aldershot: Ashgate, 1998.

Schubert's "Riemannian Hand"

The modulation to C# major is an LP transformation (Hook 139): A major moves to c# minor moves to C# major. Here is that change from the first to second strain, from A major to C# major, as a direct move in the left hand (thanks to Steve Rings for pointing this out):


While thinking about improvisation, about Schubert sitting at the piano playing while his friends danced, I realized that the piano permitted the sound of the waltz that would have been most familiar to people in Vienna about 1800 -- two violins and bass -- to be transferred from tavern or restaurant to the home. The three-layer texture of melody (first violin), bass, and accompanimental chords (second violin) became right hand, left-hand accents, and the offbeat "oompahs", respectively. (Link to D790n3 played apparently on a period instrument: note the timbral differences in the three registers.) In the heat of improvisation, the latter could serve Schubert well as voice leading stabilizers -- and, as in this case, enablers of modulations. Indeed, we might speak of his "Riemannian hand" and visualize it, as below, where a simple shift of thumb, middle finger, or pinky would effect a particular transformation.

Reference:

Julian L. Hook. "Signature Transformations." In Jack Douthett, Martha Hyde, and Charles J. Smith, eds.Music Theory and Mathematics: Chords, Collections, and Transformations, pp. 137-160. University of Rochester Press, 2008. Also see these posts: (1); (2).

addendum to Lerdahl and Jackendoff

Here are scans of two graphics I produced for a graduate analysis class in the early 1990s. We used Lerdahl and Jackendoff as a textbook. Readers will recall that they reproduce the score of D779n13 with a grouping analysis, but they do not carry out the analyses that would follow: time-span reduction and prolongational reduction.

(Click on the thumbnails for full size images.)

Reference:

Lerdahl, Fred, and Ray Jackendoff. A Generative Theory of Tonal Music. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1983.