Page 97 - Glasbenopedagoški zbornik Akademije za glasbo v Ljubljani / The Journal of Music Education of the Academy of Music in Ljubljana, leto 13, zvezek 27 / Year 13, Issue 27, 2017
P. 97
Paul Crowther, MUSIC AS VIRTUAL EXPRESSION
This is a simple tune consisting of small musical and verbal phrases each repeated once at
a gentle tempo. The ascending/descending progression of notes and words evokes a calm
and reassuring world. It asks Brother John whether he is still sleeping – with the clear
implication that he shouldn’t be, because the morning bells are already ringing. Of course,
what makes this simple tune so magical is how the rhythm and melodic progression of the
words and music blend - to evoke the sound of bells ringing. This extraordinary formal
unification of notes, words, and a second order of musical association deeply enhances the
overall sense of calmness and reassurance, thus making the tune especially suited to
children.
And there is more. Earlier, we noted how in order to appreciate an artwork it is not
presupposed that we have any collateral information about the artist’s own life, or the
circumstances in which the work was created. But, of course, we often do have such
information – and it can deepen our enjoyment. For example, we may know that the
ringing of bells in pre-Revolutionary France was often the job of local orders of monks.
‘Brother John’ may be intended as one of these. But, if is the case, the simple song
becomes a mystery. For if Brother John is still sleeping, then who is it who is ringing the
bells? Has he hired a surrogate; is it an impostor. Has he been done away with?
Many pieces of music – from nursery tunes to symphonies will yield such interesting
outcomes if considered in the right way. They will sensuously present fascinating
possibilities of experience, that can be deepened through appropriate secondary
knowledge. However, let us keep our focus on the immediate significance of musical
formats.
Some have tended to be historically specific – such as the madrigal, a form that arose in the
European renaissance as an idiom of secular choral music. However, no matter the
historical specificity of a musical format, it can still find an audience across time. Consider
Jacobus Gallus’s Musica Noster Amor (Music, Our Love). This late sixteenth-century
madrigal is a work that explicitly praises music as an inspirational power. Whether its
audience is Renaissance or Postmodern, it has a efflorescent joy that is hard to resist. The
singing launches itself with breathless enthusiasm, and – just over half way through the
piece – even gives the humorous impression of voices bumping into one other, excitedly,
before rhythmic composure is regained. Given that the work is a celebration of music it is
hardly surprising that it also overflows the boundaries between vocal and instrumental. At
the heart of this is its repeated use of the vocal device ‘taratantara’ as both a melodic and
harmonic feature – thus crossing from linguistic sense to an evocation of the world of
dance and of instrumental rhythms.
All this energy is built on an equally enthusiastic formal play. For whilst the work is a
secular madrigal, it is written and performed in Latin - the language of the sacred motet,
and, at some points, even includes passages remniscent of sacred polyphony. If one
regards the work in terms of musical knowledge, in other words, it is not only a joyful
crossing of boundaries between song and dance, but also achieves these effects through a
deeper crossing of musical formats, per se.
97
This is a simple tune consisting of small musical and verbal phrases each repeated once at
a gentle tempo. The ascending/descending progression of notes and words evokes a calm
and reassuring world. It asks Brother John whether he is still sleeping – with the clear
implication that he shouldn’t be, because the morning bells are already ringing. Of course,
what makes this simple tune so magical is how the rhythm and melodic progression of the
words and music blend - to evoke the sound of bells ringing. This extraordinary formal
unification of notes, words, and a second order of musical association deeply enhances the
overall sense of calmness and reassurance, thus making the tune especially suited to
children.
And there is more. Earlier, we noted how in order to appreciate an artwork it is not
presupposed that we have any collateral information about the artist’s own life, or the
circumstances in which the work was created. But, of course, we often do have such
information – and it can deepen our enjoyment. For example, we may know that the
ringing of bells in pre-Revolutionary France was often the job of local orders of monks.
‘Brother John’ may be intended as one of these. But, if is the case, the simple song
becomes a mystery. For if Brother John is still sleeping, then who is it who is ringing the
bells? Has he hired a surrogate; is it an impostor. Has he been done away with?
Many pieces of music – from nursery tunes to symphonies will yield such interesting
outcomes if considered in the right way. They will sensuously present fascinating
possibilities of experience, that can be deepened through appropriate secondary
knowledge. However, let us keep our focus on the immediate significance of musical
formats.
Some have tended to be historically specific – such as the madrigal, a form that arose in the
European renaissance as an idiom of secular choral music. However, no matter the
historical specificity of a musical format, it can still find an audience across time. Consider
Jacobus Gallus’s Musica Noster Amor (Music, Our Love). This late sixteenth-century
madrigal is a work that explicitly praises music as an inspirational power. Whether its
audience is Renaissance or Postmodern, it has a efflorescent joy that is hard to resist. The
singing launches itself with breathless enthusiasm, and – just over half way through the
piece – even gives the humorous impression of voices bumping into one other, excitedly,
before rhythmic composure is regained. Given that the work is a celebration of music it is
hardly surprising that it also overflows the boundaries between vocal and instrumental. At
the heart of this is its repeated use of the vocal device ‘taratantara’ as both a melodic and
harmonic feature – thus crossing from linguistic sense to an evocation of the world of
dance and of instrumental rhythms.
All this energy is built on an equally enthusiastic formal play. For whilst the work is a
secular madrigal, it is written and performed in Latin - the language of the sacred motet,
and, at some points, even includes passages remniscent of sacred polyphony. If one
regards the work in terms of musical knowledge, in other words, it is not only a joyful
crossing of boundaries between song and dance, but also achieves these effects through a
deeper crossing of musical formats, per se.
97
