https://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/?id=c030987
When you reach a philosophical impasse, you need to
get to a more basic idea. You need to raise your assumptions about your field
to a higher level of abstraction. If you do this successfully, what used to be
basics will turn out to be special cases of more general principles. Einstein's
physics does not invalidate Newton's. It simply reveals Newton's laws to be
special cases of more general ones. The discovery of DNA, a substance which
controls the intracellular synthesis of proteins and is thus basic to life
itself, does not knock out all of biochemistry up to that breakthrough, but
rather forces a reevaluation of many of its assumptions.
So let us revivify the problem of pitch as some
composers have begun to revivify the problem of metrics. There is no need to
rule out chance, statistics, serialism. But let us also pursue, still more
subtly, the techniques of rational proportion, which are capable of vastly more
than has hitherto been asked of them. What can be grasped with equal alacrity
by ear, by mathematics, and by intuitive feeling is the best material for art.
And this intelligibility is not a matter of mere conditioning; some relations
are naturally more easily understood than others. I am interested in a
spectrum from the most obvious to the most subtle
Maximum Clarity and other
writings on music,
page 111
Ben Johnston
ISBN 978-0-252-03098-7 cloth
ISBN 978-0-252-08671-7 paper
ISBN
978-0-252-09157-5 ebook
https://global.oup.com/academic/product/journeys-through-galant-expositions-9780190083991
Questioning the validity of standard sonata-form
concepts is about as old as the concepts themselves. Indeed, almost every
discussion of musical form begins with a warning to avoid shoving music into
prefabricated, formal “jelly moulds.” Inevitably, this is followed by proposing
a new jelly-mould into which to shove the music. (page 4)
Understanding musical form in relation to a series
of motions toward goals continued to play an important role in music analysis
during the eighteenth century onward, and it is of central importance in most
musical discussions today. However, to a far greater extent than witnessed in
the eighteenth century, the journey metaphor of form is now combined with the
metaphor of FORM AS A CONTAINER. That is, when explaining musical form,
musicians have taken to describe the motions toward goals as embraced within distinct
areas, regions, groups, zones, blocks, spaces, and the like. This heavy reliance on “container metaphors”
is also reflected in the common depiction of forms by means of brackets, boxes,
circles, and similar graphic tools developed during the early nineteenth
century that suggest formal containers. (page 7)
Journeys Through Galant
Expositions,
L. Poundie Burstein
Published: 22 September 2020
ISBN:
9780190083991
https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/space-time-and-incarnation-9780567043115/
While the Fathers rejected the receptacle idea of
space, the Medievals introduced it into the West with very far-reaching
effects. This called for an examination of the role given to it in Reformation
thought, Newtonian science, and subsequent Protestant philosophy and theology,
in which a deistic dualism came to be built into the fabric of Western thought.
I have not attempted here to show the developments in Reformed, Anglican, or
Roman theology in relation to this, but have concentrated on German Lutheran
thought which has certainly made the pace for much modern theology. (pages
vi-vii)
Space, Time and Incarnation
Thomas Forsyth Torrance
(Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1969)
Copyright © T. F. Torrance, 1969
1997 Preface copyright © T. F. Torrance, 1997
ISBN 0 567 08583
Published Jun
30 2005
ISBN 9780567043115
Imprint T&T
Clark
Dimensions 9
x 5 inches
Publisher Bloomsbury
Publishing
https://archive.org/details/FaithHopeAndLove-EmilBrunner/page/n9/mode/2up
... the vast majority of Christians are not
theologians ... the questions that worry the layman are both more interesting
and more difficult than those which are the favored subjects of discussion by
theologians
Faith, Hope and Love, page 11
Emil Brunner
The
demons scholars can most wish us to be protected from are the theories their
teachers forced them to learn which they would rather not have to pass on to
us. It may fall to every generation of scholars to decide which theories are
angels to be welcomed and which theories are demons to be cast out.
I have
discovered that contemporary music theorists and modern Christian theologians
writing about the Trinity have something in common, they both warn us that we
desperately need to jettison, or seriously modify, the receptacle as a metaphor
for talking about time and space.
The
problem is not simply that we think of time and space as receptacles. We
are flesh and blood and so we live within those given limits. The problem is that the wrong kind of
receptacle concept of time and space becomes the box within all our thinking
gets trapped and we apply that to musical analysis.
Paradoxically
classical music snobs and blues purists can both embrace the idea that “this”
material (blues) can’t fit into “that” box (“musical argument”, a
circumlocution for, say, a sonata form).
As it happens both the blues purist and the classical music snob are
both wrong.
The
only reason you can’t write a sonata exposition using blues ideas is if you
have stuck yourself inside of the box of the idea that purports that such
things cannot (and ought not) be done.
This
has been one of the demons of theory I have sensed music theorists have been
trying to protect music students from. The habit of pitting metaphors against
each other within theory seems to be commonplace. Richard Taruskin wrote that the metaphor of
space and the metaphor of language are incompatible but this need only be the
case if you pit the metaphors against each other, as scholars so often
like to do.
If you
allow the metaphors to mutually indwell each other they no longer conflict and
this is what happens in sensory integration and it is also how Father, Son and
Spirit are described as mutually indwelling each other in Christian Trinitarian
reflections ranging from John of Damascus and Thomas Aquinas in medieval
theology up through to Thomas Torrance in the twentieth century. Just because in musicology and theology we
have Western writers pitting sight against hearing or vice versa doesn’t mean
we have to confine ourselves to the container of such thinking.
In the
realm of sight the combination of yellow and blue creates green and the
identity of the two colors is, to our sense of sight, lost yet in musical space
one pitch does not become another and the two notes can coexist in musical time
and space. This capacity for multiples
simultaneously existing in the same space is what we need to remember as we
recalibrate concepts of musical time and space to show that if more than one
thing can fit into the container of a timespace or spacetime then there is no
need to box ourselves in with some idea that there are “inherent” limitations
in the nature of musical sounds.
There
are, I propose, at least four flexible scripts you can use to write sonata
expositions using blues and all that is required is to recalibrate, rather than
reject, the receptacle concept of musical time and space. If in Christian
theology there is a current of thought which pits hearing against sight, then
we need to explore how sight and sound are integrated as senses so that we
proprioceptively engage the world we live in with integrated senses. As L
Poundie Burstein put it in Journeys Through Galant Expositions, we have
an opportunity to stop pitting one theory against another and can draw upon
every conceptual tool at hand to look at the world we live in and the music we
hear within it.
Ever
since I wrote Ragtime and Sonata Forms back in 2020 I have kept working
toward new possibilities in thinking through how to apply recent ideas and
insights in music theory toward the goal of writing sonata forms using blues,
ragtime and rock materials. If it is
possible to write a sonata using ragtime strains then it is surely possible to
write a sonata form that uses blues materials.
This is something I’ve been
working on for years
but here I want to write specifically about blues-based approaches to sonata
expositions. That blues themes have been
written in symphonic works hardly needs more than a passing mention since the
symphonies of William Grant Still and James P Johnson should be widely known.
William Levi Dawson has also written a symphony in which blues material
appears. The beauty of their symphonic works withstanding, here in 2025 the
symphonic tradition is niche and marginal. There are also prejudices and
boundaries erected by partisans of blues and classical music going in both
directions with respect to the “authenticity” of a symphonic blues and the
“legitimacy” or “seriousness” of the proposal that blues vocabulary can be
taken up toward the end of a musical “argument” in “serious” music.
The
partisans in both cases are disastrously wrong.
If I
confined myself to what classical music theory textbooks supposedly told me I
would have to believe that V never goes to IV in classical music. I know firsthand that V7/V to V to IV
progressions
show up half a dozen time in Matiegka’s Grand Sonata II and also in his Sonata
progressive Op. 31 No. 3. As a
guitarist I can admire the playing of Lonnie Johnson, Robert Johnson, Blind
Willie Johnson, Mississippi John Hurt, Tampa Red, and Charley Patton in much
the same way I can admire the guitar compositions of Leo Brouwer, Wenzel Thomas
Matiegka, Atanas Ourkouzounov, Nikita Koshkin, Angelo Gilardino and Dusan
Bogdanovic. I not only don’t see any reason to elevate one set of guitarist
composers and denigrate the other I consider good and necessary to admire both
sets of guitarist composers equally because I think of them all as
composers. I can hear a V-IV chord
change in a Robert Johnson song and a Matiegka sonata equally well.
If we
believe lies told us by music historians from both blues and classical music we
won’t be in a position to realize that blues sonatas are practical and have
always been feasible. There is no reason the vocabulary of blues precludes its
use in sonata forms. There is no reason that sonata forms have to be approached
from a rigid top-down monothetic classification paradigm. If we can hardly avoid thinking of musical
works as containers that have modular building blocks that are themselves
containers then we can go block by block down the proverbial street and see
that the vocabulary of 20th century blues is just as compatible with
a sonata form as 18th century Austro-Germanic or Italian galant
vocabularies. The journey is the
challenge, the delineations of blocks of musical timespace are the thing. If music is fluid architecture and
architecture is frozen music the axiom breaks down precisely at the point that
a house can’t be made of cardboard and stand long but the house of a musical
work can be made with any kind of “material”.
There’s no reason the material of that house of sound can’t be a 12-bar
blues.
For
sake of brevity and convenience I will stick to 12-bar blues, but with the
explicit understanding that there’s no actual obligation for blues to be so
rigidly defined. Blues is something I
regard as a highly flexible vocabulary of melodic, harmonic and rhythmic
gestures rather than a schematic 12-measure fixity.
I am
relying on Robert Gjerdingen’s work on galant schemas as a starting point. He has outlined musical tropes and topics
from 18th century musical dramas and chamber music at length in a
book, Music in the Galant Style.
You don’t need to know what a Romanesca or a Prinner is to understand
that a schema is a kind of musical building block. For my purposes the 12-bar blues is a
self-contained schema. We could
reference Ellington’s “Black and Tan Fantasy” main theme or “Kind-Hearted Woman”. The thematic materials are whatever appears in
the functional circuit of the blues theme, those twelve measures. The scripts I’m
outlining should work just fine with themes any number of measures long.
Now,
finally, I move on to the four scripts
SONATA
EXPOSITION SCRIPT ONE: BASIC BLUES CONTINUOUS VARIATION
The
simplest way to write a blues sonata exposition is to just write a 12-bar blues
theme and create two variations on the theme that fulfill the syntactic script
of a monothematic sonata exposition. There’s no reason you have to have two
themes in an exposition. Your first theme is your blues. The second statement
of the blues performs the work of modulating to your next key and the third
statement of your blues is in that new key and fulfills the function of a Theme
2.
As a
guitarist I would say the easiest way to do this is to have a blues in E minor
and then figure out how to reintroduce the theme in the second variation in G
major. This is easily done. I have already mentioned that Matiegka used a
V7/V to V to IV progression in his sonatas. In a slow blues sonata
exposition all we have to do is present a blues theme in E minor; present a new
variation of that theme in E minor; and then when we get to the conventional
V-IV(iv) turnaround that is typical for a 12-bar blues we just transform the
tonic chord into a subtonic chord.
Instead of an “i” we go with a “VII”.
B major goes to A or A minor and then down to D. For the second variation of the blues theme
you can then begin in G major. In just
24 measures you have yourself a sonata exposition that fulfills the Theme 1 and
Theme 2 functions of a sonata form while really having yourself a monothematic
sonata exposition on a blues theme.
How
would that look in terms of a spatial analysis?
How
might such a sonata sound? Here’s a
possibility.
The
advantage of this kind of bare bones blues variation monothematic sonata
exposition is that the second variation achieves the work of a modulating
transition yet there’s no formally delineated separate “block” of sound. This means that you could make very few
changes to the first variation on your blues theme or you could make
substantial changes so long as you keep the basic groove in tact and so long as
you make sure that your V-iv-VII pivot is clearly articulated.
A
second advantage to this blues sonata exposition script is that it can invite
embellishment or even improvisation in the transitional variation. If you know you have one theme across the
movement then you can write out a variation-sonata hybrid knowing that at
select points across the form you can compose or improvise new material and/or
invite a performer to do the same.
A
disadvantage to this approach is you could wear out the welcome of your blues
theme very swiftly. You won’t want to go longer than a few minutes but this is
fine because many blues songs are just a few minutes long anyway. You would
need to be careful how you constructed your blues theme so that when material
comes back in the recapitulation you won’t bore your listeners and
yourself. This is a reason it would be
good to remember that the transitional variation in the recapitulation can be
as varied as the modulating variation was in the exposition. If, for instance, you figured out that you
can set your blues theme in canon against itself at the octave at the
half-measure the retransition variation would be the place to show that
off.
The
return of the blues theme in a recapitulation would not require an exact
restatement, either—you could have the climactic variation of your blues theme
be the fanciest or most impressive variation on the theme you might have in
your arsenal of options. This script
deliberately blurs the boundaries between monothematic sonata form and
continuous variation form. This may mean
that while it looks very easy on paper it may be one of the more difficult exposition
scripts to pull off in practice. There
is no one way to make a blues sonata and there are more flexible scripts to go.
SONATA
EXPOSITION SCRIPT TWO: BLUES AND “HIT ME”/VAMP ALTERNATION
One of
the significant pitfalls of a traditional “textbook” approach to defining
sonata forms is you are primed to think of Theme 1 and Theme 2 as the real
points of contrast in an exposition, with the transition being (merely)
whatever material you used to get from Point A to Point B. It is possible to
write monothematic sonata forms, for instance, and in such cases the
transitional material has a different relationship to the theme.
To put
this another way, contrasts within a sonata exposition would come not so much between Theme 1 and Theme 2 but between
thematic presentation of those themes and transitional passages. In a monothematic sonata/variation script
there can still be contrasts in theme presentations that resemble Theme 1 and
Theme 2, such as contrasts figuration, registration, harmonization and cadence
formulas (ending your theme on a half-cadence in its second form rather than an
authentic cadence in its first form, for example). Yet these contrasting
variations of the blues theme are variations. The real formal contrast would be
between the variations of the theme and any transitional passage(s) used to get
from one variation of the theme to the next.
This is
the conceptual “in” for Script Two. If
you have just a single 12-bar blues theme as your theme then the role of Theme
1 and Theme 2 will always be blues. In
discussing this script there’s not much that needs to be said about the blues
theme. If in Script 1 there are no independent transitions in Script 2 there is
transitional material. For blues-based sonata scripts the transitional material
is the most important material you can choose because it will be doing all the
work of modulation and transition and, in some cases, even introducing your
blues theme.
To
reiterate, in a monothematic blues sonata form the formal contrast is not
between “Theme 1” and “Theme 2” it is between theme and transition. There could be any number of ways to compose
a transition but for the sake of this essay I only want to discuss one kind of
transition and it has three components.
Taking
up Robert Gjerdingen’s idea of schemas with names such as the Romanesca or the
Prinner I propose a schema compatible with blues and rock-based musical
materials. Let’s call it the Take Me to
the Bridge schema or the Hit Me schema.
I shouldn’t have to say I’m naming this after the catchphrases of James
Brown here in 2025 but I should give credit where it is do and it can’t hurt to
assume that somebody who might be reading has somehow never heard “of” James
Brown nor had the pleasure of hearing his music. If that’s you go fix that problem before
reading further.
The Hit
Me schema has three parts: 1) The Riff, 2) Hit Me (or Take Me to the Bridge),
and 3) The Groove. We will discuss them
in order. Only the first two parts are
actually essential to the schema.
The
Riff is pretty much what the name suggests, some kind of singular riff that can
be riff-bashed as much as you want or played twice. Rock listeners won’t need any further
explanation but for people who aren’t steeped in rock or blues The Riff is a
four-measure line that gets repeated and has a clearly identifiable melodic and
rhythmic contour without necessarily having any clear harmony. “Sunshine of Your Love” by Cream is an easy
example of The Riff from a rock song.
The vamp in Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition” is also a great Riff and in
neither case do these riffs lead to key changes but they are great examples of
what kind of riff The Riff generally is.
If you can sing it off the top of your head after having heard it many
times that’s what counts. One of my favorite riffs would be the one at 0:46 in John Lee Hooker’s “Hobo
Blues”.
In the
Hit Me schema you play the Riff at least twice.
The Riff can be a four-measure or eight-measure idea that you use to
introduce your theme which then takes on modulating functions later. It can be pentatonic or diatonic but whatever
form your Riff takes it needs to retain a good melodic and rhythmic profile
across multiple modes. If you have a
Riff in E minor pentatonic it should have a good feel to it if you play it in E
major, E Lydian, E dorian, E mixolydian and other modes.
The
Riff is the part of the Hit Me schema that is going to change the most and
invites the most room for musical change even when The Riff itself doesn’t
change. You may play The Riff a second
time and chromatically change a note so that a pentatonic C major line that
lands on C lands on C sharp on the second pass. It’s best to have the Riff in
the Hit Me schema be a single melodic line so that any and all changes take on
large strategic, contextual significance.
If you change a note of your Riff you invite a change of harmony and
harmonic trajectory. If you play the
Riff twice then on the second pass you can create a new harmonic context. An A minor pentatonic blues Riff played once
is in A minor but the second time you play it could have an F major to G major
to C major oblique motion change of key despite no change in the mode of the
blues riff.
In
summary, The Riff part of the Hit Me schema will be used both to modulate from
one key to another and to simply affirm whatever key you have already reached. It’s the single most important part of this
script. This point bears repetition for
emphasis, much like a blues riff. The Riff is the most important component of
the Hit Me schema because it does all the work of modulation and presentation
of the mode or key region you’re in. The
Riff should not just sound good in as many modes as possible, you should also
be able to have a pleasing line if you turn it upside down.
However
many changes you make in the Riff you can append it with a cadential gesture--this
is the Hit Me, or Take Me to the Bridge, the second part of the schema under
discussion. A schema can be divided into
several parts which themselves may
function
as schemas. Think of it as riffs within
riffs, fractals of a larger whole and this will become easy to
understand—ingredients in a recipe. The Hit Me can be as simple as eight block
chords pounded out in common time on the dominant of whatever key you are in
with which you make your next blues variation.
If you are going to G major from E minor then the Hit Me can be eight D
or D7 chords pounded out or strummed on your guitar like you’re Pete Townsend
of The Who. Or it could be the straight
eight note chords of John Lee Hooker’s “Boogie Chillin”.
The
Groove is a potentially disposable part of the Hit Me Schema because if you
have the right Riff the Riff can confirm whatever key you want to be in, but
the Groove still has value. If you have
a dynamic Riff that has a lot of activity you will want a few measures to
establish your new key. If you get on a
train and then deboard you have to deboard at a station. The Groove is that station. It’s may be your
destination in your journey but you only went to that destination to go
somewhere else and that somewhere else is your next theme. The Groove could be four to eight measures
that establish the key you have just arrived in. If you started in C minor and ended up in E
flat major then The Groove gives space to let the listener (or you as a
composer-performer) have some time to establish the new key. Blues vamps don’t need any real explanation
for people who know the vocabulary.
Now how
would this look as a set of blocks of musical space?
How might
such a sonata exposition sound? Well,
here’s one possibility.
But
what if you want your Hit Me transition to overlap with your blues theme? While this script has the simplicity of
contrasting its blues theme with transitional material that could get old
fast. You could vary things a bit by
only using the Hit Me schema to modulate and then have different blues statements
in different keys without the Hit Me schema to create variety and you could get
up to nine statements, for instance, of a blues theme. But what if you want to create more tension
moving from point to point in your journey?
Having your Hit Me schema merged into the end of the 12-bar blues would
do the trick. That gets us to the third
script
SONATA
EXPOSITION SCRIPT THREE 12-BAR BLUES WITH HIT ME FUSED INTO IT
Conceptually
there is not too much to explain here, having explained what the Hit Me schema
is and does in the second script. With
this third script you have a blues theme and the Hit Me schema is incorporated
into the third phrase of your 12-bar blues.
The Hit Me schema can start in the second half of the third phrase,
after your V-IV chord change, for instance in a blues. Your tonic chord becomes the point at which
the blues riff you’d use in the Hit Me appears, your riff-basher, so to speak.
Here’s
how it would look.
As to
how it could sound, here’s an example.
Now by
this point you will notice that each of these three scripts are stringently
monothematic. That’s fine if you are confident that your blues material can
withstand being repeated so much or you intend to create a sonata using your
blues theme that will encourage improvisation in your development and
recapitulation zones. But you may feel
that your blues theme is in itself just okay but needs a real contrast. Sonata expositions are famously “supposed” to
have a Theme 1 and a Theme 2 that contrast with each other in some way. Can you create a script for a sonata
exposition that starts with a blues but moves on to something else? Of course.
That’s where the fourth script comes in
SONATA
EXPOSITION SCRIPT FOUR 12-BAR BLUES FOR THEME 1 AND CONTRASTING IDEA FOR THEME
2
For
sake of simplicity, I am running with the idea that the Hit Me schema in some
fashion is what you may want to use for your transition in most cases. It’s not strictly necessary to always use
that schema. At this point we’ve gotten to
a sonata exposition that is so conventionally textbook people who have read
about 18th and 19th century sonata expositions will need little
explanation.
Blues
fans, however, might wonder what the contrast between Theme 1 and Theme 2 is
supposed to be. That’s a fair thing to
wonder about. If your Theme 1 is a 12-bar blues then your Theme 2 could be a verse-chorus
module or a verse--pre-chorus--choruse module.
L Poundie Burstein has pointed out that in 18th century
sonata forms the contrast between a Theme 1 and a Theme 2 in an exposition was
not necessarily always a change of mode, but a contrast in “punctuation”. Jason Yust has pointed out in Organized
Time that a second theme in a sonata exposition doesn’t even have to start
on the tonic of the new key.
So for
a blues-based sonata exposition that leaves us a lot of options. You could use a Hit Me schema to get from one
key to the next and let The Groove establish the new key. Or your could modify the Hit Me schema so
that it prepares a dominant chord that “should” resolve to the tonic of your
target key but drops down to the subdominant of the new key. It’s common enough for a blues verse to start
on a real or implicit subdominant chord (John Lee Hooker’s “Boogie Chillin” could
be an example). The great big A7 that
would lead you to D major leads you to G instead. The IV-I7 vamp in blues is common
enough and makes for a solid Theme 2 starter.
So how the
fourth script would look is this.
As to
how it could sound there are a couple of examples here (for an exposition that goes from
minor to relative major with a clear arrival at a new key with a contrasting
theme) and here (for an exposition
whose Theme 2 is arrived at by a V-IV shift within the newly attained key).
Owing
to availability issues I’ve leaned on the music of … someone I know … because I
have noticed over decades that hardly anyone seems to talk about the
theoretical or practical possibilities of blues-based sonata forms. There’s something to be said for attempting to
write about a theoretical approach to sonata expositions that can draw upon
some actually performed music.
These
four scripts are ways that you could, if you want to, write a sonata exposition
using blues material. Over the decades
of my life I have noticed people say that there’s something about blues that
precludes it from being used in sonata forms, whether fans of classical music
or fans of blues. There is nothing about
the musical materials themselves, sounds made by people, that requires this to
be so.
If you’ve
read to the end here you may have seen the irony of my mapping out four scripts
for blues-based sonata expositions using a bunch of color-coded boxes. Well, that’s right. Even if we go with the
most hardened notion of a zone of musical space as some box or receptacle there
is nothing about that box that says the material you put into it can’t be
blues, ragtime, country or something else.
Any kind of musical material can be put into the box of Theme 1, for
instance. Even if I don’t reject the
receptacle concept of musical time and space I can demonstrate that blues-based
sonata expositions are practical and show how you could make blues sonatas if
you like.
There
may be people who read this essay and still conclude that despite my suggested
scripts and any musical examples that blues-based sonatas are not possible
and/or should not be made. But I am not
writing to convince those kinds of people of something they refuse to
reconsider. I’m writing to people who may have been told blues and sonata forms
can’t be reconciled to share with you that those people are wrong. You and I do not need to restrict ourselves
to the abject failures of imagination those nay-sayers embrace.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
https://global.oup.com/academic/product/music-in-the-galant-style-9780190095819
Music
in the Galant Style
Robert
Gjerdingen
Published:
15 November 2019
ISBN:
9780190095819
https://global.oup.com/academic/product/how-sonata-forms-9780197526286
How
Sonata Forms: A Bottom-Up Approach to Musical Form
Yoel
Greenberg
Published:
10 June 2022
ISBN:
9780197526286
https://academic.oup.com/book/4770
Elements
of Sonata Theory: Norms, Types, and Deformations in the Late-Eighteenth-Century
Sonata
James
Hepokoski, Warren Darcy
Published:
31 August 2006
Online ISBN: 9780199850983
Print ISBN: 9780195146400
https://global.oup.com/academic/product/form-as-harmony-in-rock-music-9780190948351
Form
as Harmony in Rock Music
Drew
Nobile
Published:
12 May 2020
ISBN:
9780190948351
https://global.oup.com/academic/product/journeys-through-galant-expositions-9780190083991
Journeys
Through Galant Expositions
L.
Poundie Burstein
Published:
22 September 2020
ISBN:
9780190083991
https://global.oup.com/academic/product/organized-time-9780190696481
Organized
Time: Rhythm, Tonality, and Form
Jason
Yust
Published:
12 June 2018
ISBN:
9780190696481
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