Sunday, February 11, 2024

an analysis of Matiegka's Grand Sonata I

Grand Sonata I

Matiegka’s Grand Sonata I was published in 1808 by Artaria without an opus number. In the cover sheet there are featured incipits for four Grand Sonatas.  Grand Sonata I in D major is our topic of discussion. Grand Sonata II in A major comes next.  Grand Sonata III has an incipit to another Matiegka work but the Grand Sonata III itself could be considered lost, as is Grand Sonata IV in F major.

As of 2023 there have been several recordings of this work.  One of the earliest was made by Massimo Agostinelli. Another guitarist who has recorded Grand Sonata I is Gilberto Dusman.  David Lesiner’s recording was recently rereleased on Azica Records in 2022. Agustin Maruri recorded both Grand Sonata I and Grand Sonata II.  I will be making reference to Giulio Tampalini’s 2019 recording of Matiegka’s complete music for solo guitar, as I have so far.

Agostinelli collaborated with Giovanni Pobera on an edition of Matiegka’s works (Opere Scelte) published by Berben om 1995.  I recommend Theodore Front Musical Literature for getting the music online if this is the edition you want.  I am, as I have written previously, relying upon the Stanley Yates’ edition of Matiegka’s guitar sonatas, which is excellent. Given the obscurity of Matiegka that there are five guitarists who have recorded Grand Sonata I means that it is easily the best-represented work by the composer in commercially available recordings. 

I. Maestoso (quarter= 116-120 bpm)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5RXUUccAvs

EXPOSITION:

First Pass, measures 1 to 56 (00:00 to 01:47)

Theme 1 (D major) measures 1 to 16  (00:00 to 0:31)

“Maestoso” generally translates as “majestic” or “stately” and the opening sonata form opens with a stately theme.  The first eight measures present the core idea, which runs the course of a parallel period with the authentic cadence leading to a new subsidiary idea whose resemblance to Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik is too obvious to be ignored.  The stately but sparse initial gesture gives way to a Mozart invocation over a droning dominant pedal point which leads to a restatement of the initial idea.  Theme 1 outlines a kind of rounded binary form, we could map it out as a a' b a".

Theme 1 almost ends too strongly at measure 16. The authentic cadence is too perfect.  There are several variables in the theme which work against this theme having so strong a sense of closure that it’s over once it’s elapsed.  We know, for instance, we’re listening to a Grand Sonata because of the title but Matiegka does two things to weaken this otherwise very strong cadence. He no sooner hits a loud D major tonic chord on beat one of measure 16 than he follows it up with a quiet first inversion D major triad in the lowest register of the instrument; re-introduces dotted rhythmic figures, and closes measure 16 with a final chord on beat 3, leaving the final beat of the measure silent.  This evokes both a sense of thwarted resolution and forward momentum.  What was initially a strong resolution to the opening theme has been subverted by abrupt shifts in dynamics, chord voicing, and rhythm.  We’re “done” but not too done.  A transition is coming, naturally.

Transition measures 17-43 (0:32 to 01:22)

My opinion has been that Matiegka’s themes in this opening sonata get overshadowed by his giant transition. The firm authentic cadence ending Theme 1 immediately gives way to a transition full of chromatic slithering.  In measure 19, for instance, Matiegka gives us a set of chords where F# dominant seventh slips by way of a fifth-less B major to a fifth-less E7 to an A and C# dyad.  The chromatic descent is delicate and everything about the chain of secondary dominants is clear enough.  At measure 20 Matiegka has B natural over a D bass and the treble line leaps up to G sharp before the melodic line snakes downward to A rather than functioning like a leading tone to A.  If we’re going from D major to A major, Matiegka has warned us, we are taking a very scenic route.

The first half cadence to the key of A major occurs at measure 21.  Matiegka has chromatically altered D, G, and A in first five measures of his transition. The tonic, subdominant and dominant scale degrees of D major have all been chromatically inflected out of the key in a very short space. By measure 21 a firm E on the second half of the measure prepares the way for a new theme in A major.  Or does it?

The new material that appears at measure 22 (00:41) sounds like it could be thematic but it feels like a continuation phrase rather than a thoroughly new idea. In the originally published edition measure 24 shows that the F# in the melody rises through G sharp and A sharp before reaching B natural, an A that is naturalized in the Yates edition. An upper A natural certainly doesn’t clash with the open low A string the way an A sharp rising to B natural does.  That is why I think the originally published A sharp is correct.  Matiegka was still deploying chromatic passing tones to destabilize A so that we would not hear it as a newly established tonic too soon.

Additionally, it is at this point that Matiegka creates a lovely cascade of two-voice contrapuntal writing, the treble and bass strings giving and taking melodic interest for three measures before moving to the most florid passage in the transition, which arrives at measure 28 (00:53)

From here we get a flurry of sixteenth notes in the upper voice and scalar runs.  A bass note leaps up an octave and descends by steady stepwise eighth notes through the A major scale before stopping at the next adjacent tone, running via these leaps and descents through A, B, C#, D and finally arriving at E.  Once at E the E chord is relentlessly arpeggiated in sixteenth notes while the E rises up to an F natural chromatic neighbor before falling back down to E.  This inflection from the parallel minor happens three times before a turnaround passage announces that we’re going to do all of this again once more, with feeling.

The reason we have not firmly arrived at A major is Matiegka never lets up on the rhythmic bustle of the transition one the one hand, and so chromatically saturated the tonal region with notes that aren’t natural to either D major or A major we aren’t allowed to feel like we’ve firmly arrived in A major as the new key yet.  While any given element of this transition might seem utterly rote in, say 2023, Matiegka has carefully controlled rhythmic, melodic and harmonic closure so as to preclude us from thinking that this is Theme 2. We’re still firmly in a transition.  Theme 2 is coming soon, but the transition needs to run its course.

Theme 2 (A major) measures 44 to 51 (01:37)

Theme 2, finally firmly in A major, arrives at measure 44 on beat three.  Hypermetrically this a curious spot for a theme to appear.  Matiegka kicked off a new theme in the second half of a measure of common time before, in Op. 16   Theme 2 is sparse and elegant, much like Theme 1 was.  We’re given a two-measure antecedent that gets a perky staccato two-measure consequent and this is followed up by another passage of the same. This theme is seven measures of 4/4 with a half-measure at the end that zips into the florid coda of the exposition. It would form a perfect parallel period but for two off-kilter elements. The authentic cadence leads to an explosion of rhythmic activity and arpeggios (a remarkably stereotypical guitarist-composer move in itself), for one. For another, the not quite completed parallel period ends too soon and has started on the wrong half of the measure in our given meter. 

Coda measures 52 to 56 (01:38 to 01:47)

We sure get a robust authentic cadence with all the tonic to dominant alternations you could want for the end of the exposition.  Bursting with tripleted sixteenth note arpeggios and jump bass activity Matiegka has made it clear that this is the end of the exposition, a robust moment of tonal and harmonic and formal closure amidst unprecedented rhythmic activity.

EXPOSITION: Second Pass (01:48 to 03:32)

In I think half of the cases of recordings of this work the exposition is not repeated even though Matiegka specifies that.  I think the expositional repeat is a necessary part of the work.  Theme 2 is so short and the Coda closure so abrupt that signals to me that Matiegka intended the whole thing to be repeated both so that listeners could recognize the themes more clearly on the second pass and to balance out the form.  The themes are just good enough to be heard a second time, after all, and the transition is, I think, the most compelling and substantial part of the exposition.  How substantial Matiegka thought the transitional materials were we will get to see in his Development section.

DEVELOPMENT:  measures 57 to 97 (03:33 to 04:51)

In A Sonata Theory Handbook James Hepokoski proposed that if a development only draws from Theme 1 and the transition and not from Theme 2 or any coda material then we are looking at a sonata development that is half rotational (page 77). What we discover in Grand Sonata I is Matiegka builds his entire development section not on Theme 1 or Theme 2 but on his transition.

This is a simple but substantial insight about how composers can play with and develop their ideas.  When I was studying music theory, I was told that a development section could draw on the themes or anything in the exposition, really. But I didn’t know there were examples like Grand Sonata I where the entire development is derived from the transition to the full exclusion of either Theme 1 or Theme 2.

For that matter that the transition is almost as long as Themes 1 and 2 put together wasn’t something I could have known about decades ago when I was first studying sonata forms. 

I have come to regard as a canard most claims that this or that compose “broke the rules” for how to compose because the more I looked into how sonata movements (as we inevitably must call them now since “grand binary form” is not really on the table) the more I realized that “the rules” were often post hoc inventions explaining what the works of canonized composers did or allegedly subverted in audience expectations.  Going through Matiegka’s guitar sonatas has shown me that he, a contemporary of Beethoven and Schubert who was familiar with the works of Mozart and Haydn, felt very free to do whatever he wanted with his ideas.  If he wanted to treat his sonata themes as kinds of formal placeholders he could. 

There is no dominant pedal passage, no “standing on the dominant” in this development section.  Matiegka leads into a sotto voce passage in B minor full of delicate treble figuration and staccato bass lines that evoke but never quote Theme 1 for the only time in this section and that’s arguable.  Rather than end on a dominant or prepare the dominant or anything like that Matiegka lets his music dissolve into a wispy B minor passage that dissolves into lingering 12th fret B natural harmonics.  Ending development sections on the submediant was almost a commonplace from the Romantic era onward (and among composers influenced by the Romantic vocabular as, if memory serves, Ferdinand Rebay ended a few of his development sections in his guitar sonatas on submediant harmonies).

Where else can we go from here but the recapitulation, right? But if there’s no dominant chord or passage to prepare for Theme 1 to return in D major what is Matiegka going to do next?

RECAPITULATION measures 98 to 172) (04:52 to 07:12)

Theme 1 measures 98 to 113 (04:52 to 05:21)

Just as nobody could really decree that you had to have a dominant pedal or “standing on the dominant” passage before starting the recapitulation, there was also no real decree that you couldn’t kick off your recapitulation in the “wrong key”.  So Matiegka brings back Theme 1 in a lush open-stringed G major.

This subdominant could be construed as a “breaks the rules” moment for Matiegka to add on top of his “no dominant in the development”. According to “textbook” explanations of sonata forms the recapitulation is supposed to observe the principle of the “double return”.  Theme 1 is supposed to come back and it is supposed to come back in the tonic key. 

Yet the reality in the 18th and 19th centuries among composers in Europe was that they might just as often as not choose to recapitulate Theme 1 in a “wrong key”. Mozart, for instance, was known to start recapitulations in the subdominant key from time to time. Jason Yust pointed out in Organized Time: Rhythm, Tonality, and Form that, during the early 19th century, composers began to prefer non-tonic recapitulations.  Subdominant recapitulations were considered lazy and often avoided but even Mozart had chosen to start recapitulations in the subdominant key.  Here Matiegka opts to begin his recapitulation in the subdominant key but from the secondary passage he returns to D major so that by the time his rounded binary Theme 1 has run its course the recapitulation has gone from the subdominant to the expected tonic. 

Wrong-key recapitulation is a device he uses in his Op. 31 Sonata No. 1 in C major. In that sonata he brings back Theme 1 in A major rather than C major and has his second phrase in A minor that prepares for the return of the second half of his Theme 1 to come back in the correct key of C major.  I differ with Stanley Yates on what Matiegka has done here, Matiegka hasn’t given us a false recapitulation, he’s given us a real recapitulation that starts off in a wrong key and course-corrects itself in time for the non-modulating transition.

Transition measures 114 to 142 (05:22 to 06:13)

One of the joys of composing for the guitar is that once you’ve reached a certain level of technical mastery you discover that if you really like a passage in one fairly easy key you can transpose the entire thing into another key up or down a string without too many drastic demands.  Matiegka loved his transition so much he brings back more or less the whole thing in the recapitulation only this time around he shakes things up by having a passage in triple meter.  He doesn’t notate it as such (Danuta Mirka has written about how stringently monometrical 18th century music is even when meter changes actually occur). But occur it does at measure 125 (05:43) and it’s a lovely way to play with ideas even in the recapitulation space where things are supposed to be getting “wrapped up”.  Matiegka, who was familiar with Haydn’s work, seems to have taken some cues from his influence by emulating the precedent of continuing to develop and revise ideas after the formal recapitulation has begun.

Theme 2 measures 143 to 149 (06:14 to 06:28)

Theme 2 comes back more or less as expected.

Coda measures 150 to 172 (06:29 to 07:12)

The coda in the recapitulation is substantially larger than it was in the exposition where its job was simply to formally close the exposition.  Here in the recapitulation it builds up to a flamboyant half cadence and ends with a fermata and ad libatum preceding a simple rising scale passage that precedes a reprise of material from Theme 1 as a closing passage.

It is at this point that I propose that one reason Matiegka did not feel any need to develop Theme 1 or Theme 2 is because of this ad libatum moment. When David Leisner recorded this sonata, he interpolated a cadenza between the end of the big half cadence and the staccato rising scale that presages the closing phrase of the sonata.  It’s a beautifully made cadenza and I like it.  My preference, however, is for deriving the cadenza from inversions of materials in Themes 1 or 2.  I propose Matiegka under-developed his formal themes because in this ad libatum interruption he could improvise or supply some kind of for-the-moment cadenza developing on neglected materials. 

As has been customary for this project, when I can supply a full score with in-score notes and observations I want to provide that.


 



II. Andante molto  (quarter= about 66 bpm)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ekffpV3uIuc

Stanley Yates’ proposed tempo is that the quarter note gets about 66 beats per minute which seems to me almost too fast.  Something closer to 60 beats per minute or even slightly slower seems appropriate.  We have very short themes here with short-breathed phrases in two-measure chunks.  This would make sense in light of William Caplin’s proposal that we think of phrases as made up of at least two-measure chunks in his work. It’s also fairly literally how we have to map out the phrases in this movement.

As to its form, well, I agree with Stanley Yates it is basically a sonata form of some kind.  There is wiggle room as to whether it's an extremely tiny Type 3 or an expanded Type 1 based on the five types outlined by Hepokoski and Darcy in Elements of Sonata Theory.

This is a languid and stately movement, more so than the opening Maestoso.  Most recordings of this movement are, I think, too fast.  David Leisner’s performance seems best in capturing the stateliness of the movement and his added ornaments on second passes and embellishments are appealing.  I do wonder if he changed the registration of some lines in this movement but I’ll leave that aside.  As I have done so far, I’m working with Giulio Tampalini’s recorded performance even if I am disappointed by how quickly he took this movement.

EXPOSITION: First Pass, measures 1 to 22 (00:00 to 00:44)

Theme 1 (D major), measures 1 to 8 (00:00 to 00:15)

This little sonata opens up with a stately theme in triple meter.  It is also merely eight measures long. What’s striking about this slow movement is how much Matiegka is able to imply harmonically in two and three note textures. He makes this slow movement seem more harmonically refulgent in implication than the bare notes on the page might suggest. We can take measures 2 and 3 as examples.

The melody is a simple, elegant gesture.  As a bare solo line, it’s even a bit pedestrian 18th century galant but Matiegka harmonized the line with a mixture of thirds, fourths and sixths.  More importantly, he deftly wields oblique motion to create continually shifting harmonies in a consistently sparse 3 voiced texture.  An A7 spelled A, G and C sharp in ascending order appears on beat 1 of measure 2 and at beat 2 the A is sharpened, becoming a fifth-less A sharp secondary leading tone to B minor, which duly appears on beat 3 of measure 2.  At measure 3 Matiegka has the bass voice drop down to G while the melody in the treble strings takes up F#, E, G, F#, E, D in succession, supported by D, C#, B, A, G natural, and F sharp.  The melody outlines a gently dipping, rising and falling gesture while the inner voices consistently move down the scale.  The effect this has above the subdominant pedal is to create a gentle cascade of dissonances.  No one would regard the juxtaposition of D and F# above a G pedal tone as consonant in the early 19th century, nor would they say the same about E and C# floating above the same G natural.  The harmony is cumulatively a simple G major chord but Matiegka delays the arrival of the identifiable subdominant until beat 2 of measure 3.  By measure 4 the melody and harmony have arrived at the dominant.

The second phrase in Theme 1 begins with the same core idea as before but with a gentle melodic embellishment on the third beat. Measure 5 brings a dominant harmony  The A major resolves deceptively to a brief F# minor at the start of measure 7 which leads to a second inversion A major and a root position E major. Melodically we could say the treble line has C#, C# and B natural leading the way to a second half cadence. Because measures 1 and 5 are basically the same we could describe this as fitting the bare minimum definition of a parallel period, one in which both phrases end with half cadences.  In his book Journeys Through Galant Expositions L Poundie Burstein pointed out that it was commonplace for themes to end on half cadences.  Nobody thought you needed a firm authentic cadence to consider your first theme finished.  Matiegka’s opening theme here is a case in point.  The half cadence he reaches at measure 8 is both an arrival point and a launching off point because this continuation phrase doubles up as a modulating transition.

Transition, measures 8 to 11 (00:16 to 00:22)

But you may ask yourself “How was what we just heard and saw even a complete theme?”  Given how slow the tempo is, and taking William Caplin’s axiom that a phrase consists in two-measure chunks, I’d say we have a parallel period with both halves of the period ending on half cadences.  Formal, melodic and harmonic closure have been achieved in the sense that we know we’ve heard an eight-measure theme.  The fact that the eighth measure doubles up as a continuation phrase and the start of a modulating transition may mean Matiegka has deliberately blurred the boundaries between and within phrases but everything in the music here is elegantly clear.

From measure 8 to 11 he uses a simple set of three eighth notes spanning the second half of beat 2 and beat 3 in measures 8 and 9 to build sequential momentum to the start of each subsequent measure.  We can think of this as a kind of slow operatic aria where the singer slowly rises up to the clouds with some sentiment.  Together we rise through C sharp, D natural and E, chromatically moved upward by inner voices that make G sharp in measure 8 and A sharp in measure 9. At measure 10 Matiegka gives us a chromatic descent in the melody on beats 2 and 3 where A drops to G sharp and then G natural to sustain across the barline.  In the bass in measure 11 D natural appears and the melody moves scale-wise down to C sharp above a second inversion A major triad, with the final beat of measure 11 taken up by E7 with B in the upper voice.  We may hear all of this not as a modulation into a new key but an elaborate extension of the second (final?) phrase of the opening theme. 

These are all good things to consider and I propose that the way to understand what Matiegka has done here is to regard this as a sonata form that, to use James Hepokoski’s terminology, has a continuous exposition.  There is no clear moment anywhere that suggests Matiegka has stopped the music to announce that a new theme is coming. Instead, he seamlessly presents his eight-measure Theme 1 and builds a continuation phrase that just as seamlessly turns into what I identify as Theme 2.  Speaking of which …

Theme 2 (A major), measures 12 to 22 (00:23 to 00:44)

Theme 2 appears at measure 12 and is driven by two-measure phrases.  The sixteenth note arpeggios are as bare bones as can be but because melodic and rhythmic activity has shifted from the treble strings to the bass that combined change of rhythmic activity and registration signals that this music fulfills the formal function of a new thematic idea despite the fact that harmonically (and melodically) we have never seemed to stop being in the same musical theme we started with.  It’s almost a Matiegka trope that when he introduces a new formal section there is some abrupt shift in rhythmic activity.  In this case Theme 2 is introduced by the rising rippling arpeggios in sixteenth notes.  The almost purely harmonic trajectory of this theme can be mapped out as follows:

I-V, I-V, I-IV, V7/V I 6/4 V to I

Or as aaa'b

Now at measure 18 Stanley Yates identifies the climactic chord of Theme 2 as an ascending cluster of F sharp, B sharp, D sharp and A natural, with A being above the treble clef.  This chord resolves to an A major in second inversion which moves to a root position E and resolves with a firm authentic cadence in A major which signals the first firm authentic cadence in the music and shows that we have landed firmly in A major.  This fulfills the expositional closure that would be stipulated by Hepokoski and Darcy in Elements of Sonata Theory.  Now about that B sharp seventh chord in second inversion in the Yates edition, it makes sense where it is.  James Hepokoski has discussed how, when analyzing sonata movements, we should look for correspondence measures in expositions and recapitulations.  If musical ideas appear in both the recapitulation and the exposition then we can get a sense of what those musical ideas do in light of how they recur later in the movement.  Matiegka has a G sharp fully diminished seventh chord in measure 53 as the climax of Theme 2 in the recapitulation so it would stand to reason maybe Matiegka meant that to be the case here in Theme 2 in the exposition, in which case the B should be sharp rather than natural.

In the published Artaria edition, though, the B is natural, in which case the climax of Theme 2 at measure 18 (00:36) is a second inversion B7 that resolves to a second inversion A major chord.  The recapitulation version of this harmony at measure 53 could be enharmonically reinterpreted as a D fully diminished seventh chord that resolves to a simple D triad.  Wielding fully diminished seventh chord variations of the tonic is something guitarists can do, whether in Matiegka’s proto-Romantic style or in Robert Johnson’s “Kind-Hearted Woman”.  No one would say Matiegka’s music is bluesy, of course, but it’s interesting to speculate that something about the morphology involved in guitar technique and harmonic language that alternating between simple tonic chords and fully diminished seventh chords based on the same root spans the trans-Atlantic world between Wenzeslaus Thomas Matiegka in the early 19th century and Robert Johnson in the 20th.

So, since the published score from Artaria has a B dominant seventh chord I am going with that, Yates’ decision as editor of his edition withstanding.  I have two reasons for this and the first one I have just stated. The second reason I think B7 is what Matiegka wanted besides that obvious fact is I don’t think it’s unreasonable to propose that he knew that a B7 resolving to a second inversion A major chord would be a bit odd yet still sound good.  It plays comfortably enough, and within a sonata exposition it would create a rhythmic and harmonic distortion that goes unresolved.  It creates an expectation that this harmonic/rhythmic quirk in Theme 2 “could” be resolved in a more normal way for the time and style in the recapitulation (i.e. the diminished chord tonic embellishment I’ve already made reference to in the recapitulation we haven’t gotten to yet).

EXPOSITION: Second Pass (00:45 to 01:29)

What that chord at the climax of Theme 2 in measure 18 is becomes all the more salient once we bear in mind that Matiegka asks the guitarist to repeat the whole thing from the top.  Most guitarists who have recorded this work have done that but I have liked David Leisner’s decision to embellish the second pass of the exposition in his performance.  I agree with that decision.  In light of Dana Gooley’s work on improvisation in the early 19th century (Fantasies of Improvisation: Free Playing in Nineteenth-Century Music) I would dare suggest that improvising or embellishing the second pass of the exposition in this central slow movement should almost be a requirement.

DEVELOPMENT, measures 23 to 30 (01:30 to 01:42)

Depending on how we hear this music and interpret the score either we have a two-themed exposition with a continuous exposition, or we could hear the whole thing as one single twenty-two measure theme that ends on half cadence after half cadence in D major until it finally modulates to A major and just ends there.  I have argued for a two themed continuous exposition.

Now we’ve got this passage from measures 23 to 30 and could we even call this a development?  Well, yes.  The initial melodic gesture at measures 23 to 26 evokes the vibe of the first four measures, it’s just that this happens over a pulsing dominant pedal in steady eighth notes, something that has not appeared anywhere in the music previously.  The second melodic gesture evokes the sixteenth note cascade of arpeggios we identified as the basis of Theme 2.  So, in terms of James Hepokoski’s ideas about rotations in A Sonata Theory Handbook, we’ve got just enough to consider this little passage to have full rotation properties since the P and S/C materials are accounted for.  Just because this development seems so ludicrously short as to not even count as a development doesn’t mean it isn’t one and it does fit the requirements of Hepokoski’s concept of a development going through the core ideas that appeared in the exposition and in the order in which they appeared there.

So, there’s that.  Now we’re off to the recapitulation.

RECAPITULATION measures 31 to 57 (01:43 to 02:37)

I have played with the idea that what Matiegka did in his exposition is create a kind of “half and half” exposition.  I’ve had a similar idea for some expositions in guitar sonatas by Simon Molitor and at least one of Matiegka’s other works (the E flat march in his lengthy series of studies). The idea is that the recapitulation presents the completed version of a theme but in the exposition the composer has broken up the theme into two chunks which are presented in two different keys.  The idea, speculative though it is, is that Matiegka and other composers created themes where they could expect their audience to hear that this stunt has been pulled and that the expositional “challenge” or “game” is to present the halves of the single theme as if they were separate parts in a sonata exposition but not present them in what would be their expected form until the recapitulation.  For what it’s worth if this is what early 19th century guitarist composers attempted to do I think Matiegka was vastly more successful in the effort that Simon Molitor but that’s my personal aesthetics.  Your preferences may vary.  Let’s get to the details.

Theme 1, measures 31 to 41 (01:43 to 02:02)

Theme 1 comes back and it comes back in D major, a perfectly textbook example of what sonata theorists call “double return”.  Matiegka sequentially develops ideas in Theme 1 here more than he did in either his exposition or development and Theme 1 expands from its eight-measure form to eleven measures here before the transitional material reappears.

In Elements of Sonata Theory James Hepokoski and Warren Darcy distinguished between five types of sonata form.  Type 1 fits what used to be called a sonatina, or a sonata that has an exposition and a recapitulation but no real development section. Given how short and potentially structurally negligible the standing on the dominant pedal point development in this sonata could be we “could” say there either is no development or not one long enough to be considered a formally significant passage.  If we take that interpretive decision then the fact that Matiegka expands his thematic materials more in his recapitulation zone than in the development section could lead us to classify this slow movement as an expanded Type 1 sonata form.

Against that interpretation we should consider that in the works of Haydn recapitulation zone development of themes is common enough and we know beyond all doubt that Matiegka was very familiar with Haydn’s work (Matiegka’s Op. 23 guitar sonata is two thirds a Haydn transcription or arrangement and his works abound in Haydn quotations). So rather than conclude this is an expanded Type 1 sonata we could say this is a very compact Type 3 sonata, more the “Textbook” sonata form that has been given in music theory courses.  Just because Matiegka developed his ideas in his recapitulation more than in the development would not alter this interpretation. In fact, knowing what we know about Matiegka’s access to Haydn’s music the Type 3 interpretation makes the most sense.  Both classifications are still plausible enough to be considered, which is why I’ve mentioned both of them.

Transition, measures 42 to 46 (02:03 to 02:12)

Rather than play the bare eighth note sequence from the exposition, here Matiegka does what he did in the first movement and decorate the gestures by turning eighth notes into thirty-second notes followed by dotted sixteenth notes.

At measure 45 (02:09) we arrive at a solo break floating over a subdominant harmony. It is a moment where the music stops a while for the soloist, represented by the string of sixteenth notes moving back and forth between B natural and A sharp (an almost proto-bluesy aside), gets in a word about how things have been.  This slow and stately triple meter piece could be an opera aria or an aria from a cantata (Matiegka would eventually go on to drop composing for the guitar and become a kappelmeister composing church music, and Stanley Yates mentioned in his edition of Matiegka’s guitar sonatas that there is evidence that Matiegka both studied law and attended seminary, so I am not completely speculating as to the music here being steeped in a background of opera arias and church music). This slow central movement could have plausibly been used, with a few modifications as the basis for a vocal setting of the Agnus Dei from the ordinary of the Mass.

Which is to say the solo above the subdominant we see in measure 45 is probably best understood and interpreted in light of this kind of background to Matiegka’s life and work.

Theme 2, measures 47 to 57 (02:13 to 02:37)

Theme 2 arrives after the little solo has led to the expected authentic cadence moment.  Give or take some necessary adjustments for D major the material is preserved very well.  Any guitarist can tell you that rippling arpeggios that are easy in one key become odiously hard to play and lack natural resonance in another key, no matter how closely related, so Matiegka’s adjustments all make sense here and I won’t belabor the fact by trying to describe those changes.

I will say that here in the recapitulation that fully diminished seventh chord on the tonic that resolves to the tonic and leads to a perfect authentic cadence is what audiences of Matiegka’s time would have expected him to do.  I think that argues in favor of the B7 to A passage in the exposition should be played as it appears in the published score for reasons I’ve already explained.

This slow central movement is beautiful and a great example of a sonata that has a continuous exposition.  It also lends itself wonderfully to improvisation and embellishment, something David Leisner demonstrated in his recording of Grand Sonata I. It’s not surprising that of all the composer’s work this work is by far the best-represented in commercially available recordings.

Having discussed the score in some detail I would be remiss to not include it for your examination since it is in the public domain.


 

On to the finale

III. Rondo capricioso  (dotted half = about 66 bpm)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0IkEBEjQZM

The first thing we should establish is that the finale is labeled rondo capricioso, which translates into "capricious rondo".  To be capricious is to be given over to abrupt and unaccountable changes of mood or behavior. This finale is giant and Matiegka made a point of having it live up to being a “capricious rondo”. Despite being scored strictly in 3/8 he will change meters multiple times throughout this grand finale to Grand Sonata I. It might be a bit much to suggest that any time you see a fermata in this finale it should be considered a punchline but that would be a fairly reliable rule of thumb for interpreting this finale.

Stanley Yates has described this as a sonata rondo.

I hear and read it as a seven-part rondo

Refrain, transition, Episode 1, retransition/solo, Refrain, Episode 2, solo 2, Refrain, Episode 1, Refrain

Or … A tr B tr S1 A C    A S2  B tr A

To the refrain, then, we turn.  Because this is such a large finale I will not be quite so detailed here as I was in describing the earlier movements. Rondos are in a sense easier to explain than a sonata (because steady alternation between refrains and episodes is pretty clear) yet require a bit less explanation since there aren’t quite as many theories competing to explain what rondos do the way there have been multiple theories about what sonata forms even are and how they work.

A refrain in a rondo is the idea that just keeps on coming back, however clipped or attenuated it may be on each return. In his Op. 16 Matiegka closed with a rondo where he kept sawing off parts of the refrain until, at the end, he ended with an episode and simply never brought back his refrain. So we know just from Matiegka’s earlier works that in a rondo he might drop several musical jokes on us and in this finale he doesn’t disappoint.  We’ll get to the abstract musical jokes as we go.  First we get to the refrain.

REFRAIN  (00:00 to 1:04)

In its first presentation the Refrain can be described as a a : ba : ba

in this case 'a' is as follows

(00:00 to 00:12 and 00:13 to 00:24)

measures 1 to 8 form antecedent-consequent based on sequence

measures 9 to 12 form a tag that functions as a turnaround back to the initial phrase

The initial idea is a jolly song in 3/8, the kind that might appear in a comic Italian opera, for instance. We get a simple idea and it is simply sequenced. Rondos from this period tended to feature ideas that were considered good-natured or even folksy. After the  `a’ material we go on to the other part of this rounded binary form full of internal repeats.

ba   (00:25 to 00:44 and 00:45 to 01:04)

measures 13 to 23 form the 'b' material

The continuation phrase presents 'a' material with intervallic change followed by a cascade of call and response imitative counterpoint in two voices (measures 15 to 20). Measures 21 to 23 have sixteenth note arpeggios leading to an F sharp major chord with a fermata. Matiegka has stopped here as if to prepare the way for a shift from D major to B minor.  By measure 20 Matiegka has arrived at B minor and the half cadence on F sharp promises to resolve to B minor but ...  no.  At measure 24 the 'a material returns, this time firmly cadencing on the tonic at measure 31 before repeating the entire "ba" module.  So we’ve gotten the first fermata and the first musical joke or feint, the promise/threat to move to a new key with a chord serving as a half cadence to the relative minor that simply doesn’t resolve; the chord just sticks out like a sore thumb and the next musical phrase just shows up and carries on as if nothing odd happened. The entire `ba’ module is to be repeated in the score but not all guitarists observe all the repeat indications in the finale.  I have favored using Tampalini’s recording as a reference point because while he takes the movements in Grand Sonata I faster than I would like he pretty studiously observed all the repeats and I believe the repeats are a necessary part of Matiegka’s musical sense of humor. How he ends a phrase the first time will not be how he ends a phrase a second time.

For instance …

TRANSITION measures 32 to 57 (01:04 to 01:24)

The transition away from the Refrain begins at measure 32 and runs to measure 57 (01:04 to 01:24)

Matiegka presents two consecutive line progressions as follows

measures 32 to 35  (01:04 to 01:07)

D, D7          , G           , D7 (no 3rd) , G

D, C natural, B natural, A                , G 

measures 36 to 41   (01:08 to 01:13)

G7         , C, D minor , C major    , E7

F natural, E, D          , C natural  , B natural

The two descending line progressions serve the harmonic function of destabilizing D major so that music moves to A major. How will Matiegka reinforce that A major is the new key here? He uses a technique he deployed in his Op. 17 Sonate progressive, a double Quiescenza.

measures 42 to 50 (01:14 to 01:19)

For sake of review, the Quiescenza is a galant schema that Robert Gjerdingen discussed in his book Music in the Galant Style.  It consists of a linear movement across a minor seventh through a major sixth to a leading tone and finally the tonic of a given tonality.  Over a steady A pedal tone we get G natural descending to F sharp and then G sharp ascending to A.  This has the effect of affirming A major as the newly consolidated key region preparing the arrival of the first episode in the rondo.

Now it would seem Matiegka has affirmed A major is the new key but he has biggie-sized all sorts of things in this sonata. His transition between Theme 1 and Theme 2 in the opening sonata form was about the same length as the two themes put together. Here he creates giant transitions that get further interrupted by solo breaks. So he’s not done affirming A major yet.  There’s still more work to be done.

Now we’re at measures 51 to 57 (01:21 to 01:25)

Here we have a sequence of chords: A major, B7, E, E7 (2nd inv), E7, which resolves to simple E major by measure 56 and a fermata on the lowest E at measure 57 (01:24) The effect is that he isn’t just affirming A major he’s over-affirming it. Will he get to the first episode?

EPISODE ONE in A major,  measures 58 to 108 (01:26 TO 02:18)

Yes, finally.

Stanley Yates designates the episode theme as being from measures 58 to 66 in his edition of Matiegka's sonatas.  Everything between measures 67 and 108 he designates as codettas. I understand this designation but, drawing upon James Hepokoski's ideas about sonata theory (specifically the concept of correspondence measures), I identify the first episode in this rondo as being significantly larger.

Matiegka's identifiable themes throughout this sonata have been noticeably small and a lot of the "Grand" in Grand Sonata I comes not from the themes themselves but the epic scale (for the guitar) Matiegka gives to transitions and codas. In that sense I agree completely with Yates about how many passages are codas, codettas, closing passages and transitions.  I think part of the musical comedy Matiegka took up here and throughout the sonata is to use these sprawling transitions and asides as a kind of joke/test, has the composer made this sonata so large he’s in danger of overstaying his welcome? Rather than regard this as an epic finale in the manner of Beethoven I think this finale makes more sense (and is more fun) as a finale owing more to Haydn than Beethoven, even if I realize Matiegka made a point of making a Beethoven arrangement.  To interpret Matiegka properly, I believe, it’s more important to take cues from Haydn’s jokes in his string quartets than Beethoven’s “Tempest” sonata.

In terms of formal function, the entire span of measures 58 to 108 counts to me as the first episode.

 In Yates' reckoning B covers measures 58 to 75.  Whereas the refrain had an aa : ba : ba structure the first episode is strophic.  Matiegka embellishes a simple descending line in A major that moves through A, G sharp, F sharp, E sharp, D natural, C sharp, B and E on the first pass (measures 58 to 65). Then on the second pass (measures 66 to 75) Matiegka adjusts the bass line so that it descends from A through G sharp, F sharp, E sharp, D natural across two measures, C sharp across two measures, and then on the final measure moves through eighth notes across D and E to form an authentic cadence on A at 75.  This strophic beginning for the episode has delicacy and elegance to it and its linear descent is evocative of, say, Pachelbel's famous and alternately loved and reviled Canon in D.  The first phrase over this descending line is a delicate dance and the second phrase has bare eighth notes outlining a gently rocking descent through A C# A, G# B, G#, F# A F#, E# G# E# and so on.

Measure 75 (1:44) is where Yates believes the episode ends I think Jason Yust would raise a point about how, yes, we have a firm authentic cadence in A major and that provides harmonic and melodic closure to the episode but a mere single eighth note value followed by two eighth notes on the fifth of the scale that immediately proceeds to a continuation phrase suggests that in rhythmic terms Matiegka has created a resolution that is so weak nobody listening to this episode would think it's over.  What Yates identifies as "Codettas" from measures 67 to 108 counts as a series of continuation phrases.

Take measures 76 to 83 (01:45 to 1:52), for instance. Matiegka drones away above an E pedal tone and in his figuration we get a melody that goes as follows:  D, C#, B, C#, E, A, B, A, G#, A, E, E and repeats.  Harmonically this kind of V-I alternation is a trope in the B strains of ragtimes.

This V-I alternation is followed by a IV-I alternation at measures 84 to 90 (01:52 to 01:59) that eventuall resolves with a IV-V-I cadence.  From measures 91 to 98 we get a filigree passage that is melodically and harmonically a simple I-V alternating pattern.  We can reduce the melody to A in a bar followed by B, A, G#.  The arpeggios and flourishes withstanding in linear terms this is a bare-bones cadential cliche.  However, what is going on rhythmically needs to be considered.  The A major tonic is played with tripleted sixteenth notes while the E major half of the chord shuffle is played in thirty-second notes.  What Matiegka is doing here is rapidly alternating between triplet and duple meter within his 3/8 measures, destabilizing the meter. 

measures 99 to 109 (02:09 to 02:18)

We get more continuation phrases. It’s like he’s hammering away at the non-tonic key so much his key-affirming chain of cadences risks outwearing its welcome.  When’s he going to get back to the refrain?

measures 110 to 117 (02:19 to 02:26)

Finally, a transition that promises to get away from the key but …

solo measures 118 to 140 (02:27 to 02:48)

 

Wait, he just changed the meter of the piece.

 

Not that he left 3/8 in the dust in the written score. Like many composers from the 18th and early 19th century Matiegka used accent marks, articulation symbols, and beaming to reveal he has changed meters without doing what we would do in the 21st century, which would simply be to change meters and score accordingly.

To repeat, Matiegka changed meters just at the moment where he seemed like he would retransition back into the Refrain.  Then he indulges in a solo that, to put this anachronistically, has the “circling ever-circling” mood of a Lynard Skynard solo in “Free Bird”. It’s like Matiegka is toying with his audience by interrupting what should have been a flow from Episode 1 back into the Refrain with a deliberately obstructive guitar solo that isn’t even the right meter for this triple meter rondo finale.  I suggest that all of this could be construed as a musical joke at the expense of guitarists.  The composer is throwing in a rambling guitar solo to make fun of how guitarists have a temptation to throw in wicked solos that are not necessarily sensible or musically compelling.

When does the Refrain come back? When will Matiegka get back into the correct meter?

REFRAIN in D major  measures 142 to 173(02:49 to 03:19)

Here Matiegka brings back all the material from the refrain but omits every repeat.  Why repeat everything this second time around that was played twice the first time around? He did just threaten to outstay his welcome with that “in the wrong meter” guitar solo.  As compensation, he cuts the new Refrain short and, without any further ado, launches into …

EPISODE 2  in G major measures 173 to 266 (03:19 to 5:20)

This is easily the biggest section of a very big finale.  This is where Matiegka indulged in his most drastic manipulations of meter changes. He kicks off the second episode with phrases that sound like they present three measures of 2/4 and then four measures of 3 / 4. This is what we get in the first phrase at measures 173 to 188, which the composers requires be repeated (03:19 to 03:37 and 03:38 to 03:55). At measure 180 there is a fermata above a D major chord reached at 03:25 and 03:47 respectively across repeats. A fermata above a half cadence is fairly conventional. I think it serves two purposes here: 1) it affirms that harmonically and melodically this is a resting point but 2) it reinforces the ambiguity of the metrical shifting he has employed within the initial phrase of Episode 2. This episode could end up being like the Refrain in having some kind of binary or compound binary element.

The second phrase traverses measures 189 to 196 (03:56 to 04:03) and suggests that this will be an Episode like the Refrain.  An `a’ is answered by a `b’. What is more, we’re firmly back in triple meter, so the contrast with the previous material could not be rhythmically starker. Here the fermata at measure 196 reinforces the new meter of the new phrase rather than casting doubt on the meters of the earlier phrase the way the earlier fermata did.

But duple meter isn’t done yet, not by a long shot. At measures 197 to 200 (04:04 to 04:09) we’re given another phrase, this one entirely in duple meter, that starts in G major but ends with a B major chord with a fermata above it. C major went to B major instead of D major and just let things sit for a while. This must be an antecedent to something but is Matiegka going to shift to E minor or go back to G major?  Hasn’t he going from a chromatic mediant chord (literally) back to the tonic without explanation?

The music picks up again with the completion phrase measures 201 to 212 (04:10 to 04:22). Now Matiegka barrels through in 2/4 for several measures and only at the end remembers that this finale started in 3/8 and abruptly concludes in-meter. He has been taking the initial phrase of Episode 2 and spinning it out into increasingly longer sections so that duple meter begins to drown out the triple meter that kicked off this finale.

Triple meter does return, firmly, at measures 213 to 220 (04:23 to 04:30)

Then duple meter returns (measures 221 to 224 (04:31 to 04:35). We get another half cadence threatening to go to E minor that, by now, is probably a false alarm in tonal terms.  Matiegka has, by now, been pretty consistent in never letting his chromatically altered mediant chords ever actually go to the relative minor key.  He keeps jerking our chain about which meter he is in or will stay in.

Then, from measures 225 to 248 (04:36 to 05:00) Matiegka has Episode 2 culminate in what I call “The Big March”.

In this relentless passage of duple meter Matiegka runs through a chain of circle progressions so swiftly he changes chords every beat:

G, E, Am, D, G7, C7, F7, B flat, G7, C, A7, Dm, B7, Em, C7, F, D7, G, E7, Am, A7, Dm, D7, G, G7, C, C7, F, F7, G, G7, E, E7, Am, Dm, G7, C, F, Bm, Em, Am, D, m G, G7, C, F, F&m, G, E7, Am, F#7, B7, Em, … and he does resolve back to G major at measure 248 and even arrives back in triple meter but he has gone through so many chords he might as well have made this an Omnibus Progression March. See pages 4 and 5 of the Artaria score to view just how breakneck this tour of tonalities is.

Then, at measures 249 to 256 (05:01 to 05:12) Matiegka jumps back into 3/8 as if nothing weird had just happened. This is the retransition that is supposed to get us from G major back into the Refrain.  At this point we’ve taken so many twists and turns into wrong meters and the remotest tonal regions far away from D major it’s a bit of a mystery how Matiegka is going to get us back to the Refrain. The first thing he needed to do, which he did, is at least get us back into the right meter. That lilting secondary phrase from Episode 2 is back.

Or it was. From measures 257 to 266 (05:13 to 05:20) Matiegka’s rhythmic groupings and cascading arpeggios reveal that we’ve come back to 3/8 only long enough to shift gears into compound meter.  He hits us with alternations of A7 and D so while he has begun to break away from 3/8 as the baseline meter he is at least preparing a return to the tonic key. But he has gone off into tangents in his last retransition passage so … odds are decent he’s going to interrupt things with a guitar solo tangent, which he does.

Solo break 2 B minor measure 267 to 298, compound meter (05:21 to 05:53)

At least a compound meter solo in B minor is the relative minor of D major.  It has a pleasant rippling effect like we’re floating along a river in a boat somewhere. This solo is tighter and leaner than the big solo break that came before.  Matiegka’s harmonies and rhythms being in compound meter suggest that he’s got less need to abruptly change gears.  He has been at his most capricious in Episode Two and now the time has come to use more gentle techniques to get the music back to the Refrain.  Sort of.  At measures 291 to 292 (05:46) sets up what amounts to a 4/4 break scored across the 3/8 measures preparing return of

REFRAIN in D major measures 299 to 346 (05:54 to 06:39)

The refrain comes back more or less as usual with no repeats. We get a second fermata at measure 322 after measure 321's fermata on the by now expected F# major chord.  Matiegka had in the past let this half cadence to the relative minor get resolved abruptly back into the D major tonic of the refrain without preparation.  Here, finally, he introduces a dominant seventh chord that interrupts the flow of the refrain.

After all the capricious meter changes and tonal stunts is there anything left here in the finale he could be capricious about? 

He does have at least one more feat to share with us.

At measure measure 323 (06:18) he presents the core idea of the refrain in imitative counterpoint against itself in two voices before taking off in a call and response antiphonal passage that expands the closing section of the refrain starting at measure 231 (06:25). This sonata has been full of two-part counterpoint and Matiegka clearly reveled in imitative procedures. Presenting the incipit of his Refrain in imitative counterpoint against itself is a pretty formidable contrapuntal feat, especially on the guitar. It is one of the most brilliant inventions in this sonata.  I think this sprawling Rondo capricioso has been a friendly musical satire of guitarists.

By now he has reached the climax of the finale and keeps things pretty tightly constructed. For instance, at measure 338 (06:33) he reintroduces the tripleted sixteenth rhythm on a chord shuffle of E7 and A that resolves to a low A at measure 346 (06:39). This lets him return as efficiently as possible to a recontextualized

EPISODE 1 returns measures 345 to 364 (06:40 to 06:59)

The first episode returns in the tonic key. The continuation passages 1 and 3 from the first episode and its retransition return at measures 365 to (07:00 to 07:21). Matiegka skips from continuation passage 1 to 3 in contrast to the material presented after Episode 1 initially appeared.  He’s winding things up now and closes with a return to

REFRAIN D major measures 3844 to 412 (07:22 to 7:56)

It has been a long musical journey in this giant rondo for solo guitar. We’ve seen how tightly he constructed his two sonata forms earlier in this work. The Rondo capriccioso has certainly lived up to its name. Of course you’ll want to look at the score for yourself so, naturally, I’ll supply it.

 








Stanley Yates has written that this sonata is one of the most ambitious and compelling of the early 19th century guitar sonatas published in Vienna.  It lives up to its title Grand Sonata and Yates regards it as the apotheosis of Matiegka’s technique as both composer and guitarist. I am inclined to agree.  I happen to like all of Matiegka’s guitar sonatas which is, of course, I’m writing at such length about them. Here in the early 21st century, when English language music theory scholarship has provided so many approaches to analyzing and interpreting sonata movements, Matiegka’s body of work provides some rich opportunities to demonstrate the viability and relevance of those theories of sonata to explain what Matiegka actually did rather than find his work wanting on the basis of theories of sonata grounded in earlier 19th or even 20th century conceptions of what sonata forms were supposed to do. If we confine ourselves to just studying the music of the already canonized “masters” we can lose sight (and that all too easily) of how varied and dynamic the field was in concert music in European countries in the 18th century and early 19th century. I believe Matiegka’s guitar sonatas reward detailed study and that more guitarists should consider taking up performing his works. Just within this one sonata alone we’ve seen two very different approaches to sonata form explored by this composer, both of which are worth studying and performing. If guitarists, particularly, want to get a sense of how flexible and dynamic approaches to sonata forms can be I don’t think they could do better than to explore Matiegka’s work. There are other guitarist composers who were comparably good at exploring large scale forms in the early 19th century but none, in my opinion, who were better are exploring the possibilities of sonata forms than Matiegka.


Saturday, February 10, 2024

a delay in reading the new Borstlap book

 Well, I pre-ordered it but the vendor says it's temporarily out of stock.  So it may take a while before I can read the new book since there's no indication U.S. side when the book will be available.  Since the book is newly published this is a paradox but I can't read a book that hasn't been shipped to me.  

On music-related topics I am still hoping to get around to discussing Iverson's piano sonata and I'm incubating an analysis of the entirety of Matiegka's Grand Sonata I.  

UPDATE 11:23AM
For Ethan Hein, if you're reading this, Ethan, what I've seen of the TOC suggests that it is going to be a reworking of ideas from Borstlap's blog posts.  You will probably not want to read the book. :)  I'm bracing myself for the possibility that Borstlap takes Schleiermacher as given without necessarily having dug into the robust rebuttal Schleiermacher got from Swiss Reformed theologians a century ago, on the one hand, or the flourishing of arguments for aesthetic pluralism as an outworking of Christian confessionalism in Dutch Reformed theology going as far back as Gerardus van der Leeuw through Hans Rookmaaker up to the North American expansion of these ideas in Nicholas Wolterstorff or in post Vatican II Catholic theological aesthetics on the other hand.  I.e. the kinds of Scrutonian defenders of "tradition "and "Christendom" I've read over the years tend to be bad at the Christian dogmatics (Scruton is actually awful on those points) who are defending a Eurocentric art mysticism  that doesn't even line up with Christian dogmatics.  Defending an imaginary Athens of Romanticist invention invites the old question the African Church father Tertullian asked "What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?" African Christian correctives to Hellenistic speculation turns out to have a very long history if our reading of Christian teaching gets even the slightest bit outside Europe.  But I digress, kind of.

At any rate I can't read the book yet and it remains to be seen how long it is before John Borstlap's new book arrives.  Meanwhile I'm having fun reading Charles W Mills' The Racial Contract and Black Rights, White Wrongs alongside Oliver O'Donovan's Gifford lectures.  It turns out that black political theory and Anglican theology can converge in contending that the Kantian turn in philosophy had a variety of disastrous consequences revolving around who is and isn't considered a person. But I probably need to save that for some other post.

Saturday, February 03, 2024

links for the weekend of 2-3-24: starting with a sampling of listening before moving on to the shut-down of GetReligion, journalistic activism and its discontents, and other stuff

First we’ll do this links for the weekend post starting with all the musical stuff.  The other stuff will show up after the break.
 
I heard about this one from my brother, Kurena Ishikawa's bass and voice performance of Michael Jackson's "Off the Wall"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mlVpBTpaOU8
 
post-Esperanza Spaulding voice and bass performance.  Until I saw it done and heard it I would not have imagined it was possible to even do a voice and doublebass arrangement of a Michael Jackson song, let alone “Off the Wall”. 
 
Ishikawa has also done a version of Stevie Wonder’s “Bird of Beauty” (Fullfillngness’ First Finale was released in 1974)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sK4DJ8y1GTI
 
I’m willing to say anyone who does covers of Michael Jackson and Stevie Wonder is on a good musical path.
 
My brother and I (and several other of our relatives) have gotten into the manga/anime Spy x Family.  I only discovered it in late 2023 but swiftly caught up on the anime. My brother read the first 10 volumes of the manga in a mere three days.  During the holiday season with some family we watched the latest episode of season 2, which wrapped up.  There are a lot of things I enjoy about the series and one of them is the music.  The musical cues are fun and they are used in entertaining ways.  Some of them are earworms. 
 
(K)Now_NAME with "housework" from Spy x Family series soundtrack
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhYdrFTOfqY
 
Then another earworm for me is "Crisis of my home" from the same.  There is, for me, a gut-bustingly funny use of this musical cue in Episode 24 of season 1. Two caveats, first, episode 24 is really far into the season and like any good joke there's 24 episodes of set up for WHY the moment is so funny and, second, you've got to see it subtitled because the original Japanese voice cast cannot be beat.
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9ug7a2d3mg
 
I've made a point of learning about chamber works where the guitar is paired up with another instrument, be it woodwinds, strings, plucked strings or brass.  This one, Sonata for domra and guitar, is by Nikita Koshkin, whose work I've analyzed in moderate detail here in the past.
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QIKoH6DR-7E
 
Here's hoping the second half of his 24 Preludes and Fugues for solo guitar can be recorded sooner rather than later.
 
A bit of recycling but …
Ethan Iverson - Piano Sonata: Allegro Moderato
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pbY3Vp3aTLU
Ethan Iverson - Piano Sonata: Andante
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fSI_bpQJDF8
Ethan Iverson - Piano Sonata: Rondo
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPe_j-gnfko
Here’s the Kepler Quartet performing Ben Johnston’s String Quartet No. 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VX0tfFhkq8
 
I am not going to become a microtonalist myself but I admit I love Ben Johnston’s string quartets. Props to Kyle Gann for all the work he has done letting people know about Johnston’s music. 
 
Now we’ll get to the not-music element of the links for the weekend this weekend of February 3, 2024.

Sunday, January 28, 2024

HT Ethan Hein, Ethan Iverson plays his Piano Sonata

1-28-2024 1 pm

This weekend I commend to your listening attention the new piano sonata by Ethan Iverson.  Thanks to Ethan Hein for mentioning in comments here at the blog recently.  I've listened to the sonata just a couple of times and want to listen to it more and read through the scores in-video before I write more but I did, at least, want to share it with readers of Wenatchee The Hatchet this weekend.

Ethan Iverson - Piano Sonata: Allegro Moderato

I'll have more detailed thoughts after I've had more time to listen to it and read the scores but the short and quick impression is:  I like this sonata.  The second movement is touching and the third movement is funny,, in the zone of Haydn funny.  :)  I had to get my bearings a little on the first movement but I like it, too.  I hope Iverson writes more piano sonatas.  Often when jazz musician/composers tackle sonatas and "classical" forms the works don't always come off within those idioms, much like a lot of classical composers attempting jazz end up pretty cringe.  Iverson, however, is the kind of pianist who can interview (and did) George Walker and talked with him about his works.  I've got Iverson to thank for introducing me to George Walker's piano sonatas, which swiftly came to be among my favorite late 20th/early 21st century piano sonatas.  All that to say I repeat my hope that Ethan Iverson keeps writing more piano sonatas.  

More detailed comments may emerge at this post later.  For now I want to just get my initial thoughts into words and share the music with you.  

Monday, January 08, 2024

some belated thoughts on Doug Wilson's No Quarter Novembers, Kevin DeYoung's piece about the Moscow Mood, and Christ Church Moscow's engagement of Clare Locke LLP

I refrained from writing anything about No Quarter November in December because there were more fun things to do and write about.  It was more fun to watch Godzilla Minus One, for instance.  It was more fun to watch Miyazaki's latest film. It was more fun to spend time with friends and family.  It was also more fun to add an appendix to Ragtime and Sonata Forms.

But I did sporadically read No Quarter November 2023 and also read some posts on Wilson at Heidelblog.  I'm skipping most of the posts from Heidelblog because links to other articles are more salient.  We'll start with this one because Anthony Bradley was named and that name takes on some significance later.

Saturday, January 06, 2024

kicking off 2024 with links for the weekend, a panel discussing Reed Carlson's Unfamiliar Selves has me thinking about the role music has had in catalyzing mantic states and how contingent, conditional and occasional that musical impact is in biblical narratives

I have yet to write at any length about this intriguing and inspiring book ... 
Unfamiliar Selves in the Hebrew Bible: Possession and Other Spirit Phenomena
Reed Carlson
DeGruyter, 2022
ISBN 978-3-11-066934-3  

or the earlier dissertation form of the work Carlson has done but I did, belatedly, discover a panel discussion that has been published as a set of pages I commend to you for reading this weekend. 

https://www.ancientjewreview.com/read/2023/4/19/sbl-2022-review-panel-unfamiliar-selves-in-the-hebrew-bible

https://www.ancientjewreview.com/read/2023/4/19/the-critical-potential-of-spirits-hebrew-philology-the-poetics-of-relation-and-unfamiliar-selves

https://www.ancientjewreview.com/read/2023/4/24/possession-and-relational-moral-agency

https://www.ancientjewreview.com/read/2023/4/26/selves-spirits-and-the-usefulness-of-comparison

Lambert's observation that Carlson reads moral injury as the basis for King Saul's affliction by tormenting spirit is indicative of 21st century interpretation rather than the text itself stands out.  That was a reservation I had about Carlson's approach to the Saul narratives, too.  When the text tells us Yahweh afflicted Saul with a harmful spirit after Saul showed himself disobedient by not killing enough Amalekites we can't really propose that war trauma was what catalyzed King Saul's erratic spirit afflicted behavioral changes.  There is a lot about Carlson's work I like and liked but this point from Lambert is a substantial one.


Carlson's clarifying caveat that he wasn't actually trying to diagnose Saul as to point out that moral injury catalyzing altered states of consciousness that are bad is known in contemporary counseling literature.  Carlson, if memory serves, is ex-Pentecostal or ex-charismatic and might also know that the idea of moral injury as a catalyst for demonization is fairly rampant in popular level spiritual warfare self-help books. Carlson's response (see below) suggests to me he's trying to triangulate three bodies of study (research on psychological trauma, theories of spirit possession in biblical literature, and anthropological/cultural analyses of porous concepts of selfhood).


https://www.ancientjewreview.com/read/2023/5/1/jewish-spirits-and-christian-specters

Schwartz raised a fantastic point about how ritual cleansing through sprinkled water in Ezekiel precedes the new heart and spirit.  Having finished John Kleinig's book on the role of choral music in 1 & 2 Chronicles I have been thinking about how within the Jewish scriptures music does not have an intrinsic or automatic capacity for epiclesis, to put this another way, music doesn't catalyze "trance' or "possession" states as a matter of course.  


The observation that a diachronic rather than synchronic approach to defining what "spirit" is is necessary precisely because scholars can see how dramatically concepts of ruah shifted was (and is) worth making. There's a big gap between saying the breath of Yahweh hovered over the waters and seeing the text as a reference to the Third Person of the Christian Trinity, a gap that can be understood if we bear in mind that terms in the Hebrew texts (and LXX) came to have divergent meanings across time and within textual traditions. 


https://www.ancientjewreview.com/read/2023/5/3/response-to-the-forum-on-unfamiliar-selves-in-the-hebrew-bible

 

For me what sticks out as a hobbyist musician and composer (and Christian, with an interest in theology and biblical studies) is that music does stick out in a couple of narrative episodes.  King Saul became another person after encountering a guild of musical seers/prophets.  Elisha summoned for a minstrel before giving an oracle.  The biblical narratives grant that music was used as a catalyst for mantic states but I think Schwartz' observation that the new spirit/breath is preceded by ritual cleansing highlights an element that musicians often want to ignore.  Musicians would rather let music be a "magic" or "wizardry" that has its effects intrinsically and not on the basis of working conditionally and only after proper purificatory rites have been completed.  For instance, it's one thing to say that Saul encountered a musical guild of prophets and suggest music had the effect of making him into a different person, it's another to consider that Samuel gave an oracle and had told Saul he was chosen king.  The ritual context and prophetic oracle context within which the transformation was predicted are inextricable from the musical guild that briefly made Saul into another person.  As Zwingli pointed out, the Lord was with David and had departed from Saul, so what David's music on the harp did is not something intrinsic to David's music itself.  


Fans of music tend to want their music to be an unconditional and automatic catalyst for epiclesis.  Every time I feel the spirit moving in my heart I will pray ... .  

 

I've got that book Demons, Angels, and Writing in Ancient Judaism by Annette Yoshiko Reed and I have to finish it.  I've read enough of it, though, to get what she means by the efforts of contemporary scholars to exorcise spirits from the texts.  Judit Blair's De-Demonizing the Old Testament couldn't be more overt just from its title alone.
... One of the things I have learned about spirits from reading the ethnographic literature for this book is that apparently they do not leave you alone even after you diagnose and treat them. Rarely can they be exorcised completely. ...
This is commonly attested within Christian traditions apart from scholarly discussions of the same.

So, maybe you'll have some fun reading this.  I had fun reading it, at least. 

Oh, wait, we're in 2024 but Blogger's not counting this as a 2024 post so, eh ...

Sunday, December 31, 2023

a short look at the most viewed post at Wenatchee The Hatchet of 2023, from 2021

The most viewed post of 2023 at Wenatchee The Hatchet turns out to be something I published in 2021.
812 views could be at least half bots for all I don't know but it's the most viewed post of 2023 for the blog.  The analytics further indicate that those 812 views were accumulated in the last three months.  
Traffic to the blog nosedived after later 2014 and spiked during the run time of The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill before nosediving again, which is all fine.  The quality of the readers is more important to me at this stage in life than the quantity.  If people enjoy the Matiegka posts, for instance, that makes me happy.
I don't regret, though, chronicling the life and times of Mars Hill or demonstrating that Wilson and Driscoll knew of each other going as far back as 1992 and that Driscoll made no secret about his being influenced by Wilson.  I had thought to write about No Quarter November and Kevin DeYoung's paradoxical worries about the Moscow Mood after having giving a glowing review to the first edition of A Justice Primer but I had more fun things to do like watching Godzilla Minus One and adding an appendix to my 2020 treatise of sorts. 
I might have to get around to stuff like that in 2024.  I found some fun links to a round table on Reed Carlson's Unfamiliar Selves I want to share later but it might be good to actually discuss Reed Carlson's book first.
We'll have to see how 2024 blogging goes and whether I feel up to returning to earlier levels of productivity.  The 30th anniversary of Mark Noll's The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind will be upon us, after all.  John Borstlap's book will be out and a new book by Oliver O'Donovan will be out of his Gifford lectures.  Stuff like that.
I never managed to blog about Ewell's book this year.  There is, I hope, time to get to that in 2024.  Matiegka 2023 is obviously going to sprawl into 2024 and maybe even 2025.  I admit it's a hugely ambitious and difficult project but I did at least get to Op. 16 and Op. 17.
Happy New Year from Wenatchee The Hatchet.  

Saturday, December 30, 2023

Alan Jacobs on Wagner with a passing reference to Roger Scruton--some observations on the Scrutonian engagement with Anglican theological aesthetics that never was


I don't need to rehearse that Wagnerians venerate Wagner as a genius and Wagner's detractors regard him as a repulsive human being.  Alan Jacobs doesn't need to do that either but he seems savvy enough to realize what he volunteers about Wagner is not informed by steeping himself in Wagnerian criticism.  Then again, the following observation wouldn't depend on being caught up with the sea of statements about Wagner. Get ready for an amusing little story about W. H. Auden and Benjamin Britten discussing the exigencies of setting verses to a fugue:
...

Wagner trusts overmuch in the power of his own verse, or is simply overly attached to it — which is a reminder that often it’s good to divide the labor of the librettist and the poet. When Auden was writing his Christmas oratorio, For the Time Being, he did so hoping that his friend Benjamin Britten would set it to music. But when he gave to Britten the magnificent fugal chorus on Caesar he had written, Britten couldn’t help laughing. He told Auden that if he wanted an actual fugue to be written, and a figure that would set a single scene in an oratorio with many scenes, then he should have written three lines, not seventy. So Auden kept the poem as written and gave up on the idea of having it set to music. By contrast, Wagner never had anyone to remind him of the necessary constraints; so he ignored them. 

And there’s another problem as well. Recently I read Walter Murch’s famous meditation on film editing, In the Blink of an Eye, and was taken by his articulation of one of his chief rules: “You want to do only what is necessary to engage the imagination of the audience — suggestion is always more effective than exposition.” It’s interesting that Wagner understands this principle so well in his music, which often is rich and deep with suggestion, without understanding it at all in his writing. Exposition often dominates. I think his addiction to detailed exposition has something to do with his belief in himself as a sage and a mythographer. 

... 

So there's that but the conclusion of the post is what has stuck with me:

I may have more to say as I move through this extraordinary work of art — though maybe not, because the experience is tiring. Right now I feel about it much as Virginia Woolf felt about Joyce’s Ulysses, which she called “a memorable catastrophe — immense in daring, terrific in disaster.” But it fascinates me as a myth, especially as a humanist myth — a myth about the ending of the gods and what Bonhoeffer would later call the “coming of age” of humanity. I think that is why Roger Scruton — a man convinced of the absolute necessity of religion to humans but without any firm faith in Christianity — loves the Ring cycle so much. His book about it is magnificent, I think, but also somewhat depressing, because as a Christian I certainly don’t think that a humanist myth has the power to sustain us. But Wagner put an enormous charge into his effort to make it do so. 

Since Scruton's passing I have read a couple of  books published before and after his death regarding his legacy as a conservative and the philosophy of aesthetics and the philosophy of religion.  A short version would be to say that Scruton was fond of what he called the English trait of being "loyally indifferent" within Anglicanism.  He regarded the feat of Anglicanism as rescuing the Church of England from the evil Calvinists so it could be English-ly Catholic in Our Church.  My take-away was that in 2023 there are probably more Anglicans in Africa than all of the United Kingdom and probably more orthodox Anglicans, too.  There was hardly anything in Scruton's version of transcendentalist personalism you couldn't get from neo-orthodox or dialectical theologians like Bultmann or Brunner who had a vastly great command of biblical texts and dogmatics.  Scruton seemed to be a kind of smells and bells Anglican who put stock in the rituals themselves and if they were opaque that was what made them profound.

And here I am gearing up to tackle Thomas Aquinas and Herman Bavinck on Trinitarian dogmatics in 2024, I who have the complete works of Richard Sibbes and am sympathetic to Zwingli's take on David's harp music rather than Luther's.  

That Scruton was a loyal Anglican I don't doubt, that he was fond of "loyally indifferent" Anglicanism was one of his failings as a public churchman.  There, I suppose there's no watering it down.  When I consider what the Anglican theologian and musician Jeremy Begbie has published in the last thirty years it kind of puzzles me that Scruton didn't think to interact with any of Begbie's work, or the work of David Brown so far as I could tell.  Scruton recognized that a chasm had come to exist between popular music and music from "the great tradition" but he did not seem as interested in finding ways to bridge those gaps or consider how they were sustained by journalists, music historians, and even performing and recording musicians (I don't say "constructed because Scruton read just enough Theodor Adorno to know who claimed popular song and dance from the United States was and is not "serious music").  

What is more, if Scruton was committed to a kind of Rudolf Otto variation of The Idea of the Holy for his art mysticism he didn't even manage the generously pluralist moments achieved by the Dutch Reformed anthropologist/art historian Gerardus van der Leeuw, whether in Religion in Essence and Manifestation or Sacred and Profane Beauty: The Holy in Art.  One of the ironies of Roger Scruton the philosopher who was so loyally indifferent to dogmatics and theology was that he didn't engage with theology much and yet it was Dutch Reformed theologians and art historians who made a case for aesthetic pluralism grounded in Christian confessionalism while Scruton was defending a nebulous post-Wagnerian post-Otto kind of mysticism.  

Scruton was, to go by his collected writings, more an English Anglican than a confessional Anglican, for want of a better way to put it.  I read Puritans for fun and edification, though, so I'm precisely the kind of Christian Scruton thought the Anglican church probably needed to be kept safe from.  But, seeing as I got into the work of John Neville Figgis in the last year, Figgis had a question which goes like this--why do people believe that the greatest dangers come from believing too much and not too little?  No one would have expected the late Roger Scruton to become a liberation theologian, for instance, and yet Jacobs' post has reminded me that Scruton may have accomplished more as a churchman who happened to be a public philosopher if he had taken his Anglicanism more seriously in the sense of engaging with and interacting with other currents within Anglican thought in his own lifetime.  I just merely name-dropped Jeremy Begbie and David Brown and I don't feel like wading into the waters of either of those theologians.  That might be something to save for 2024.

As I have been reading theological aesthetics within Reformed and Anglican and Catholic traditions I have begun to suspect that one of the crises of contemporary liberalism is catholicity.  Pluralism is presented by conservatives and reactionaries as predicated on relativism but this is not necessarily so.  The scholars who published a monograph with Brill on John Neville Figgis identified him as a formerly liberal Anglican who became more evangelical and yet was known in his lifetime for championing a secular and pluralist state.  Scruton was not unaware of Figgis, but he seems to have read Figgis the historian of political ideas rather than Figgis the priest.  

I guess I am trying to put this another way, merely discrediting people in the left or new left is not the same thing as coming up with ideas that might potentially ameliorate problems or offer solutions to aesthetic problems of the sort that Roger Scruton could recognize but did not seem particular eager to solve.  Since he has died he obviously can't solve any aesthetic problems now but, as Gavin Hopps has written of Scruton, we can be critical of his elitism and snobbery precisely because if we take those elements out Scruton still had some salvageable ideas that can be worked with.  One of those ideas was the observation that we need take pop music more seriously, at least more seriously than Adorno did, as a way to consider a potential future path for a rapprochement between classical and popular idioms. 

In that sense Philip Ewell has been right to say that loyalty to highbrow art religion is unyielding ... but the same can be said of the alternate art religion of rockists and poptimists.  Coming at all this from a Reformed Christian position (Swiss, Dutch, Calvinist, etc) I come at this realizing that I don't subscribe to either the highflyer Anglican Scrutonian art religion or Ted Gioia's "magic" jazz-centric ethos.  Philip Stoltzfus would potentially guess that I reject both the Orphic and Pythagorean paradigms to explain what music can do.  Maybe ... but Roger Scruton has been dead a couple of years and an appraisal of the strengths and weaknesses of the Scrutonian music project is going to be a work in progress for a while. 

Still, if Scruton were alive today and had read Philip Ewell's book he would likely say that it is a shame Schenker has had so much influence on North American music theory education and there's nothing wrong with Ewell registering that complaint in itself.  Scruton was almost glibly dismissive of Schenker's legacy, though.  He could get like that.

Anyway, soe semi-organized thoughts for a post on a Saturday night.  

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

a new appendix to Ragtime and Sonata Forms, some practical approaches to ragtime/sonata synthesis

Over the years I have written about my fondness for ragtime and my interest in synthesizing ragtime with 18th century galant approaches to large-scale form.  I wrote Ragtime and Sonata Forms back in 2020.  Since that time I have read a fairly big pile of books discussing musical time and space; concepts of form; and scholarly reconsiderations and renegotiations of what theorists would call sonata forms.  It has become clearer among scholars over the last two centuries that the whole idea of “sonata form” and “sonata forms” was and is a post hoc description of a very flexible set of practices that were never as schematic or rigid as 19th century theorists made them out to be. 

 

As Leonard Meyer put it, in the eighteenth century sonata movements were conceived of and written as a flexible set of scripts, but in the nineteenth century they became works written according to plans.  I was telling a friend of mine that this distinction between a sonata as a “script” and a sonata as a “plan” has profound implications.  You can go “off script” any time you want and get back on script.  If you change significant parts of your plan then you may just need a whole new plan.  I enjoy Haydn more than Mozart or Beethoven and I have a fondness for thinking of sonata forms (since the term and the heuristic is still useful and unavoidable now that we’ve had it for two centuries), so I have been thinking of ways to play with sonata forms in a way that treats sonata forms as flexible scripts.  I have also attempted to cross reference approaches to the “punctuation” of musical themes in ways that allow for establishing temporal-spatial correspondences between ragtime and sonata forms. 

 

Ironically I have been helped not just by reading music theory treatises by Jason Yust, Yoel Greenberg, James Hepokoski and L. Poundie Burstein, I have particularly benefited from reading Charles Twombly on John of Damascus; Thomas Torrance on Trinitarian dogmatics; Roger Scruton on the philosophy of music; and then Ferdia Stone-Davis and David Brown’s respective critiques of Scruton.  In other words I dove into theology and philosophy.  Torrance argued that we need to drop the Newtonian conception of time and space in light of patristic witness that time and space are not absolute but are relationally contingent and part of the created order. 

 

So when Jason Yust proposes that we think of musical time and space overlapping in multiple dimensions that just strikes me as a conceptual transposition of the kinds of distinctions that, when Thomas Aquinas reflected on the Trinity, were explicable as filiation, procession and spiration in intra-Trinitarian relationships.  In other words, Christian theology going back to the patristic era and medieval theologies from Aquinas and John of Damascus dispensed with a conception of time and space as some absolute “receptacle”.  L Poundie Burstein’s advice that we avoid getting too rigid in thinking about musical blocks of space and time as fixed “containers”.  Christian theologians agreed with that concern centuries ago and Thomas Torrance was overt in advising us to drop that conception of time and space in the last century.  

Saturday, December 23, 2023

some thoughts on readings in music theory in 2023 and theological arguments against Germanophile art mysticism within Christian traditions (updated 12-30-23)

I had planned to blog about Matiegka's Grand Sonata I by now but, eh, life happens. There's still time between now and the end of the year to tackle that but I'm not sure I'm going to.  I may try to write a bit about some of the reading I've done this year. Normally I don't do list posts but I read a specific set of books that stuck with me this year

Yoel Greenberg's How Sonata Forms (2022)

L Poundie Burstein's Journeys Through Galant Expositions (2020)

James Hepokoski's A Sonata Theory Handbook (December 2020)

Jason Yust's Organized Time: Rhythm, Tonality and Form (2018)

Philip Ewell's On Music Theory, and Making Music More Welcoming for Everyone (April 2023)

The Religious Philosophy of Roger Scruton  (2016)

Art and Politics in Roger Scruton's Conservative Philosophy (December 2022)

Frank Burch Brown's books Religious Aesthetics: A Theological Study of Making and Meaning (1993); 
Good Taste, Bad Taste, and Christian Taste: Aesthetics in Religious Life (2003); 
and Inclusive yet Discerning: Navigating Worship Artfully (2009)

Chiara Bertoglio's Musical Scores and the Eternal Present: Theology, Time and Tolkien (August 2021)

Ferdia J Stone-Davis' Musical Beauty: Negotiating the Boundary between Subject and Object (2011)

John W Kleinig's The Lord's Song: The Basis, Function and Significance of Choral Music in Chronicles

Philip E. Stoltzfus' Theology as Performance: Music, Aesthetics, and God in Modern Theology (2006)

Kwame Bediako's Jesus and the Gospel in Africa

I'm also half-way through The Extravagance of Music by David Brown and Gavin Hopps

That's not counting other books I've been reading by Emil Brunner or John Neville Figgis or any entries in the sprawling reading list on exorcism, diabology, spiritual warfare, and scholarship on the development of Enochic traditions and demonologies evolving within contexts of imperial occupation(s) in the Yehud.  These are books that I've read that I hope to draw upon as I work toward Perichoresis in Musical Time and Space as a follow up to the  ragtime series.

A good number of these books got published since I wrote the blog series Ragtime and Sonata Forms back in 2020.  Each book, in some way or another, added ideas and insights into conceptions of musical time and space that I have found useful.  I've been intrigued by writings from the neo-Calvinist tradition advocating aesthetic pluralism.  The short version is that these kinds of arguments are, I think correctly, adduced from the economic Trinity but the relevance of the immanent Trinity to discussions of overlapping forms of musical timespace varying with dimensions of musical time and space don't come up.  I guess I'm trying to say that Christian theologians have been doing a great job of drawing upon the Trinity in its social/economic form to advocate for aesthetic pluralism grounded in confessional unity whether it's a case presented by Nicholas Wolterstorff, Frank Burch Brown, Hans Rookmaaker, Maeve Louise Heaney, David Brown or others.  

But direct reflection on musical time and space and dealing with the dogmas of aesthetics that evolved in the era of Romanticism is more sparse.  I've mentioned this briefly in the past but when Christians can draw upon John of Damascus' discussion of perichoresis in Christology and Trinitarian dogmatics; or when Thomas Aquinas distinguished between filiation, spiration and procession within the Trinity it seems like the simplest thing in the world to transpose these theological-philosophical concepts onto the nature of musical time and space in ways that discard Romanticist notions of musical material having some "essential" nature.  If we consider the biblical prophets and their criticism of music as not being a denigration of music itself but of investment in music that overlooked injustice, we have a viable alternative to what Stoltzfus described as the problematic dualism of Orpheus and Pythagoras derived musical ontologies or mysticisms.  

One of the ironies of conservatives (such as the late Roger Scruton) who attempted to defend a form of highbrow culture that was purportedly grounded in some kind of Christendom is that Scruton was, to be blunt, so lazy regarding Christian dogmatics it would be more apt to say he embraced a kind of post Schleiermacher and post Rudolf Otto art mysticism.  Gerardus van  der Leeuw had a "kind" of art mysticism but his version included African diaspora music as well as the old canonized Western touchstones from the long 19th century.  Scruton's version of Anglicanism outlined in Our Church was (and is) so relentlessly, ethnically "English" with its "loyal indifference" that it cannot account for the probability that there are more Anglicans (and more orthodox Anglicans) in Africa than in the entirety of England. Because Kenyan Christians were some of the first friends I made in my early college years and some other friends were Christians from Japan I have not defaulted to any surmise that "Christendom" is either Western or Eastern or necessarily a really Christian conception of fellowship.  

The Scrutonian highbrow elite Anglican art mysticism is something that has been dismantled by the neo-orthodox theologians via Barth and Brunner a century ago.  Scruton was more committed to being a culturally conservative Anglican than a doctrinally attentive Anglican. Jeremy Begbie has been writing about theology and music as a musician and Anglican theologian since before the dawn of this century.  It wouldn't seem to have been too hard for Scruton to have compared notes with Begbie on a confessional basis for aesthetic pluralism as reflecting the Anglican commitment to a middle path.  Scruton, famously, was committed to his highbrow elitist art mysticism and regarded Calvin as having harmed "civilization" by not counting marriage as a sacrament the way Catholics do. Never mind Zwingli or Bullinger, Scruton's Anglicanism saved Catholicism from the evil Puritans.

But Aquinas' exposition on intra-Trinitarian relationships suggests to me that if such multi-dimensional timespaces can coexist in the Trinity and if Victor Zuckerkandl or George Rochberg or, on point, Jason Yust can imagine that timespaces for rhythm, tonality and form can co-exist, then just on the basis of Christian dogmatics alone the neo-gnostic elitist art religions of Eurocentrists can't even be plausibly defended on the basis of the purported "Christendom" that is invoked to defend the standard canonized works.  As Jaroslav Pelikan put it in The Vindication of Tradition, intra-tradition criticism of traditions that harm rather than help are the well-spring of Jewish prophetic literature. 

So when I read Ewell's book I read it as making a contribution within that kind of intra-traditional critique of the poisonous impulses within a tradition. Ewell may be an atheist and that just makes it more paradoxical and amusing that when he writes about what anti-whiteness has done to blackness that it sounds remarkably similar to what African biblical scholars and theologians have described as the influence of powers and principalities.  For that matter, Ewell's working definitions of whiteness and anti-blackness could fit with ease into Walter Wink's working definition of powers, give or take a few caveats.

I'm entertaining quite seriously a proposal that Western art religion represents a power and principality in terms of writings on Ephesians interpretation from Esther Acolatse, Daniel K Darko, Robert Ewusie MOses, and even Clinton Arnold.  If contemporary anti-racists tend to be both secular and progressive they will likely not have bothered to read theologians and biblical scholars grappling with the Pauline concepts of powers and principalities because, eh, religion.  Yet both Jewish and Christian writings in the first few centuries of the common era grappled with shared identity amidst contrasting points of origin.  I'm working through Jacob L Wright's new book on why the Bible began, for instance.  

And all that is to say that I think it is possible to chart out a practical program within which vernacular and popular musical vocabularies can be fairly easily used as the building blocks of 18th century variants of large-scale form, thus Ragtime and Sonata Forms from 2020.  But I want to try to get more practical and map out ways in which ragtime and other popular musical vocabularies can be woven into different kinds of sonata forms.  I had no idea all the above books had been published around the time I was blogging my passion project in 2020.  Now that I have gotten a bit more up to speed on the range of theoretical/analytical options and tools at hand in United States scholarship on music theory and the intersections of "pop" and "classical" I think it would be benificial to draw upon that scholarship to synthesize a theoretical as well as a practical approach to making, well, ragtime and blues based sonata forms.  Maybe I"ll write a bit more about that next week when I have some time.  Meanwhile, that's a sampling of my reading from 2023 and some semi-organized thoughts on directions I'd like Wenatchee The Hatchet to move into in 2024. 

Plus blogging through Matiegka's guitar sonatas.  If none of that happens, happy holidays.  If it turns into blog posts between now and New Year's you'll know.  

UPDATED 12-30-2023
I figured I shouldn't have just put the title names in the post.  So here's an updated/expanded list of reading from the last two years with links to the books at their publication sites:


Johannes Quasten’s Music and Worship in Pagan and Christian Antiquity

Yoel Greenberg's How Sonata Forms (2022)

L Poundie Burstein's Journeys Through Galant Expositions (2020)

James Hepokoski's A Sonata Theory Handbook (December 2020)

Jason Yust's Organized Time: Rhythm, Tonality and Form (2018)

Philip Ewell's On Music Theory, and Making Music More Welcoming for Everyone (April 2023)

The Religious Philosophy of Roger Scruton  (2016)

Art and Politics in Roger Scruton's Conservative Philosophy (December 2022)

Frank Burch Brown's books 

Religious Aesthetics: A Theological Study of Making and Meaning (1993); 

Good Taste, Bad Taste, and Christian Taste: Aesthetics in Religious Life (2003); 

Inclusive yet Discerning: Navigating Worship Artfully (2009)

Chiara Bertoglio's Musical Scores and the Eternal Present: Theology, Time and Tolkien (August 2021)

Ferdia J Stone-Davis' Musical Beauty: Negotiating the Boundary between Subject and Object (2011)

Nicholas Wolterstorff’s Art in Action: Toward a Christian Aesthetic (1987)

                                    Art Rethought: The Social Practices of Art (2017)

John W Kleinig's The Lord's Song: The Basis, Function and Significance of Choral Music in Chronicles

Philip E. Stoltzfus' Theology as Performance: Music, Aesthetics, and God in Modern Theology (2006)

Jaroslav Pelikan’s Bach Among the Theologians

John Neubauer’s The Emancipation of Music from Language: Departure from Mimesis in Eighteenth-Century Aesthetics

Rob C Wegman’s The Crisis of Music in Early Modern Europe, 1470--1530

Percy Scholes’ The Puritans and Music in England and New England: A Contribution to the Cultural History of Two Nations

Kwame Bediako's Jesus and the Gospel in Africa

Richard Taruskin's Musical Times and Lives Examined (2023)

The Invention of Beethoven and Rossini: Historiography, Analysis, Criticism

Spencer Klavan's Music in Ancient Greece: Melody, Rhythm and Life

The Extravagance of Music by David Brown and Gavin Hopps

This addition doubles up as the bibliographic background to the new Appendix for Ragtime and Sonata Forms, too.


Tuesday, December 19, 2023

sometimes I wonder ... it seems like Christian nationalists in the Idaho realm want a fundamentalist diabology while having a Winkian exousiology

 Doug Wilson says he's a fundamentalist and believes there's a real Satan.  Something that's been nagging at me over the years is that the folks in Moscow, Idaho who are stumping for some kind of Christian nationalism seem to have a general commitment to a Merrill Unger style demonology for formal demonology ... but then for political theology they turn to conversations about how the powers (political powers) are created goods that are fallen but can be redeemed ... ?  If you take that kind of approach to political powers and empires and nation states aren't you pulling ideas out that are straight up Walter Wink?  

I'm not saying Wink's ideas came out of nowhere, they have some precedent in G B Caird's observations about an ambiguity about the powers and principalities in Pauline literature (the powers "could" be redeemed or reconciled, although given "reconciled" as a euphemism within Roman imperial parlance for "subjugated" there's a possibility that the powers being "reconciled" still fits snugly into a Christology within which the powers are overcome) ... but for self-identified Christian fundamentalists there's some explaining in order.  I can get mainline Protestants and progressive Christians staking out a Winkian spirit cosmology about the powers and how and why they arrive at that.  I can even give that a sympathetic reading via Anglican political historians David Nicholls and John Neville Figgis!  

But fundamentalists ... don't seem to have so easy a time explaining why they have their fundamentalist demonology (which largely developed into what it's known for being across medieval Catholic thought, an irony that was not lost on Jeffrey Burton Russell!) while also wanting to tout a Christian nationalism that seems to require an exousiology (theology of the powers) that comes straight out of Walter Wink.  I finished a pretty fun book by Matthew T Prior on Jacques Ellul's ideas about the powers (his exousiology) in the last month or so, and I read a really good book by Esther Acolatse on the reception history of powers and principalities in Ephesians interpretation with a proposal of an African realist approach to the powers.  I've been meaning to write about her book for a while.  I might have to finally write about it.  But I'm not as prolific a blogger as I once was.  Maybe it's a phase ... anyway ... I might have to write more about that set of topics some time later.  

Meanwhile, The Boy and the Heron is fun.  I might have to write some thoughts down about Miyazaki's latest film but I have a kind of holiday dithers about blogging this year. 

Annette Kruisbrink's Dances Nos. 1 & 2 from Five Dances for guitar and doublebass


These are as fun on amplified instruments as they are on unamplified instruments, no surprise. I have the scores for these and think of blogging through them now and then but I'm too backlogged on blogging through music stuff as is for the time being.  Still, I like to share links to Kruisbrink's music from time to time.  Hope you enjoy it. 

two pieces from Current Affairs discussing Philip Ewell's book, some semi-organized thoughts on epistemic trespass that happens when musicians and music theorists opine about religion


...

But when people in the United States say “European” music, it’s really just a few places—German-speaking territories, prime among them—and we present it as the way we should think about music. And of course, the idea that pitch, the piano, and 12 tones in a system that emanated—to be blunt—from the Catholic Church is the system that represents all music, that’s kind of what we’ve been teaching. And, of course, colonization: you have to immediately think about the idea of presenting what were essentially white supremacists and patriarchal ideas across the globe in a colonial context. Of course, Christianity played a massive role.

I’m teaching Theory 1 currently, and to just look at all the music theory textbooks, literally last night I thought, Oh, my God, all of these hymns, all of these chorus, all these “Jesus, my pain and suffering”—there’s a lot of Christianity in the music theory textbooks, which I didn’t really dig into in my book. Maybe that’s the next project because that’s what we’re talking about: Catholic traditions morphing into German Protestant traditions of making music.

...
As Taruskin pointed out in The Ox, consolidating and ratifying liturgical music within Carolingian Catholicism is more or less why we began to have the musical notation traditions we have.  Now, obviously, just because those were the historical seeds of what Taruskin called the literate musical traditions of Europe and the United States doesn't mean for a second things stayed that way. Although Taruskin name-checks him, he doesn't mention that Charles Garside Jr. made a case that Zwingli and Bullinger, by banning music from church services, functionally created the realm of fully secular music that was not automatically in service of throne or altar.  
...

Saturday, December 16, 2023

John Borstlap's new book coming in 2024

Longtime readers know I have disagreed with Borstlap on a variety of topics over the years.  Nevertheless, I plan to read his forthcoming book and whether or not I agree with anything he says in it, congratulations on the new book. :) I read (and genuinely liked) Philip Ewell's book On Music Theory even though I disagree with a few things he said in that book.  I am looking forward to reading Borstlap's forthcoming book in 2024.

Regaining Classical Music's Relevance: Saving the Muse in a Troubled World
John Borstlap
ISBN: 1-5275-5314-0
ISBN13: 978-1-5275-5314-9
Release Date: 1st January 2024
Pages: 120
Price: £59.99

I might just have to save up my thoughts on both Ewell's book and Borstlap's book for later in 2024.  This year has been a kind of trippy year IRL. 

Thursday, December 14, 2023

Alan Jacobs has a "Hey, wait a minute" moment reading Ted Gioia

...  the various examples that Ted gives of this “deadly new lifestyle” point in varying and in some cases opposite directions. Some of these developments show people succumbing to Technopoly; others involve resistance to Technopoly. And that’s a big difference.
Remember that the self-published book Gioia has been running as a series at his Substack has a central thesis that musicology, all of it, has its real "secret" roots in sorcery.  Bryan Townsend once commented at his on blog (The Music Salon) that outside his genuine fields of expertise Gioia comes across like a writer who will torture the evidence until it gives him what he wants. 

Alan Jacobs may have not read it, but the grand dualism that fueled Gioia's book Music: A Subversive History is a glib one that assumes and presumes that the Pythagorean and Orphic traditions of music are all there is to be said about music across the world from the dawn of humanity.  Philip Ewell may have overstated the extent to which 19th century surmises among music theorists in European nations leaned on understandings of ancient Greece that were wishful thinking.  

On the other hand, in the realm of theology and theological aesthetics Philip E Stolzfus wrote an entire book pointing out that there have been fatal flaws in the Orphic and Pythagorean traditions from the beginning.  The Pythagorean speculations about music and number ratios reflecting cosmic order can't account for things like irrational numbers or quirks of the overtone series (of course Kyle Gann pointed out that the overtone series wouldn't be discovered until a century and a half after any Pythagoreans were speculating.  The Orpheus tradition is characterized by lots of blunt stereotypologies about gender and ethnic or racial authenticity on the one hand, and traffics in violent language or cults of violence on the other.  Just because Ted Gioia has more or less thrown in with Team Orpheus doesn't mean the version of Orphism he is peddling is historically plausible is probably the most diplomatic way to put it.  

I used to really enjoy reading Ted Gioia's work but these days I read him hardly at all, and it's as if any post he writes it's a coin toss whether it's going to be some version of "With horns like these you will gore the Arameans!"  Let the reader understand. 

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Daniel Read's Sherburne on Nahum Tate's text "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night" a shape-note Christmas hymn

This is a Christmas song you have "probably" not heard but if you have heard it you'll not soon forget it.
Daniel Read wrote this a long time ago as a contribution to the North American shape-note tradition of hymnody.  It shows up often enough in recordings of shape-note hymnody.

What's tougher to find, though, is a performance of the text beyond the first verse.  For that you sometimes have to go to a more "classical" presentation of Read's work.