Friday, April 24, 2020

Ragtime and Sonata Forms, Part 13: George Rochberg on pluralism and questions of style

13.     Rochberg on pluralism and questions of style

The story of how Rochberg rejected serialism in the aftermath of his son’s death is just well known enough that I don’t wish to recite in detail.  That Rochberg’s ars combinatoria approach is one of a number of potential pathways to a synthesis of ragtime and sonata form is simply a proposal at the level of theory.  Joplin did not need a Rochberg to write the long since lost piano concerto.  Thanks to the influence of thinkers like Adorno, however, Rochberg’s formal rejection of serialism and move toward a polystylistic juxtaposition of tonal and atonal musical idioms fortuitously overlapped with the ragtime revival. 

Rochberg was rejecting the American academic standard for serious composition during the period in which the most influential popular style in the history of American music was being revived not within the realms of pop music but by classical musicians. If as Edward Berlin and others have noted, the ragtime revival coming at the behest of classical musicians may have skewed our understanding of ragtime toward the solo piano literature of the Joplin school, a fringe benefit, noted with acid humor by Tom Wolfe in the introduction, was that in the 1970s there were American compositions that had actual tunes that could be included in academic concert life at a time when serialism still held sway. 


Rochberg, for his part, was advocating not a “return” to tonality that tried to forget that atonality ever happened.  He was instead making a case that Western music could embrace both musical dialects:

From The Aesthetics of Survival
On the Third String Quartet
page 239

... Far from seeing tonality and atonality as opposite "styles," I viewed them as significant aspects of an enlarged language of musical expression with ranching subdivisions of what I like to call "dialects"--a particular way of stressing or inflecting parts of the whole spectrum of Western musical language.  These dialects can be represented singly or in combination depending on what one wants to say and the particular size, shape, and character of the work one wants to say it in. In the quartet the dialects range widely from diatonic, key-centered tonality to forms of chromaticism which veer toward nineteenth-century or early-twentieth-century practices (but still structurally tonal) to a more atonally oriented chromaticism; from predictable to unpredictable periodicities of phrase structure; from simple to complex metric pulsation; and from continuous to noncontinuous gestural relationships between phrases, sections, and movements. 
...
page 240

... I suspect that what my quartet suggests to others, and what I began to accept for myself at least fifteen years ago, is that we can no longer live with monolithic ideas about art and how it is produced. Nor can we take as artistic gospel the categorical imperatives laid down by cultural messiahs or their self-appointed apologists and followers of whatever persuasion.

On the contrary, the twentieth century has pointed--however reluctant we may be to accept it in all areas of life, social as well as political, cultural as well as intellectual--toward a difficult-to-define pluralism, a world of new mixtures and combinations of everything we have inherited from the past and whatever we individually or collectively value in the inventions of our own present, replete with juxtapositions of opposites (or seeming opposites) and contraries.  ...

page 241
Granting pluralism, how is a composer to deal with it? From the inside out, i.e., from the internal psychic imagery which becomes the musical gesture to its artistic manifestation. Gesture, singly or in combination, successive or simultaneous, is the determining factor--not style, language, system, or method. 

What Rochberg advocated for and demonstrated in his Third String Quartet can be described as a musical form of what is lately called code switching. To translate Rochberg’s term “gesture” into a term that can connect with fans of popular music, everything emerges from the hook and there is no style, language, system or method that has to constrain the ways in which a composer transforms a hook into a finished musical work, or a work that can become the basis for an improvised performance. 

Rochberg discovered that serialism did not give him the expressive possibilities he felt he needed to compose music in the wake of his son’s death.  Adorno had damned serialism and aleatory alike as technocratic means that obliterate the decision-making music-making subject, so Rochberg’s rejection of serialism was in one sense a vindication of Adorno’s condemnation of serialism and aleatory as twin dead ends.  Rochberg, however, concluded that tonality was not “used up” and that there was no need to constrain himself to an Adornian set of prohibitions. 

Rochberg went on in his later works to say that he believed a fusion of the asymmetrical pitch systems of tonality and the symmetrical pitch systems of atonality can become the basis for continued exploration in the posthumously published A Dance of Polar Opposites edited by Jeremy Gill (University of Rochester Press, 2016).

I can’t resist mentioning at this point that one of the greatest themes in the history of ragtime, Louis Chauvin’s initial strains in “Heliotrope Bouquet”, simultaneously present us with a tonal theme laced with quartal harmonies and whole-tone scale inflections.   Rochberg’s vision of a dance of polar opposites has been latent within the musical language of ragtime for a century.
Rochberg was, of course, not the first to wrestle with the nature of the pluralism he saw.  The American musicologist Leonard B. Meyer observed that the nature of the pluralism that the West was observing had grown bigger in reality than Western ideals of pluralism could encompass. It is to Meyer’s comments on pluralism I turn next.

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