The Later Music of Elliott Carter
The Later Music of Elliott Carter
The Later Music of Elliott Carter
A. N. Vhitehead.
(1969).
The Later Music of Elliott Carter
Part I: Text
DCPQSiTFJ) o
1BESI8 *
°y David I. H. Harvey
Worcester College
Preface
5, 1 C=ex. 3. 12]
5.2 Carter's AIT chart
5.3 AIT-derived 5- and 6-note sets
5.4 Instrumental characters and interval repertoires in
Second Quartet
5.5 Formal outlines in Carter and Berg
5.6 AITs in Second Quartet (I)
5.7 AITsin Second Quartet (II)
5.8 AIT chain, b.418-423
5.9 Residue tetrachords in conclusion, b.599-602
5.10 AIT framing in cello cadenza
5.11 Formal outline of I
5.12 Appearances of 1st violin's theme <X)
5.13 Formal outline of II
5.14 Related appearances of 2nd violin's theme in II
5.15 'Middleground' interval associations in 2nd violin,
b.171-174
5.16 Variants of 2nd violin's theme in II
5.17 Growth of III from cello cadenza
5.18 AIT harmony in III
5.19 Formal outline of IV
5.20 Composite themes in IV
5.21 Tempo proportions
5.22 Linear structure and sets in Second Quartet, b.1-60
5.23 'Background 1 for Introduction
5.24 Process and association in instrumental lines, b.18-27
5.25 Derivation of 1st violin's line, b.51-54
composer, one of the most prominent and influential in the second half of the
twentieth century. Although apparently well served by books and articles, his
music has (until now) not been subjected to the extended critical analysis
which is the purpose of this thesis. The complexity of the music has made it
necessary to restrict the scope of this examination. The project, which started
life as an ambitious survey of the entire mature output, has instead become a
study of three of Carter's most celebrated (and most characteristic) works: the
Second String Quartet (1959), the Double Concerto for Harpsichord, Piano, and
Two Chamber Orchestras (1961), and the Concerto for Orchestra (1969). The
extracts from the scores of these works: it is assumed that the reader is
Although it will become clear that I do not regard Set-theory and its
certain notational aspects of the system have proved useful. Alien Forte's
VI
'directory' of pitch-class set forms, and his names for these, have been used in
the chapters on the Second String Quartet and the Double Concerto. They are
distinguished from Carter's own set-numbering system by the prefix 'f, sets
Among those who have been generous with their advice and
encouragement in the writing of this thesis, I would like to thank the following
conversation on (and around) the music; Dr. Bojan Bujic, who supervised my
work in its early stages; Dawn Beard, for helping me tame a large and
Reading; and lastly (but necessarily first and foremost), my wife and children,
composer. The motivation for this view stems initially from his music itself:
Carter's music which make a strong impression. This reputation for intellectu-
chords, intervals and tempi, can all be somewhat daunting. Yet closer examin-
ation reveals that this view of Carter is far from accurate. If we are
not simply to ignore Carter's writings on his music, then these writings must
compositional process.
Any consideration of the writings of American composers in general
must start with an assessment of the literary output of Charles Ives. The
works, as in many of the writings collected and published as the Memos,^ the
sure, but even these are thoughts around the music, which often in Ives'
particularly in the (rightly) renowned Essays before a Sonata and the Postface
to his edition of 113 songs.--5 The strongly personal, even eccentric character of
Ives' writings, and his attitude towards composition and music in general, did
surprisingly little to influence in a direct way the thought and style of later
philosophical depth.
by Partch's compositional vision. Of the two, only Cowell's book had any
although even this was not extensive: although some of the principles
expounded are certainly ahead of their time, their limited realisation in the
course of the book and in Cowells music may have prevented their full
The populist movement in the arts in the U.S.A. in the 1930s can be
American composers at this time, and also accounts for the prominence of
such figures as Aaron Copland, Virgil Thomson, Arthur Berger, and Carter
himself, as music critics and reviewers. Stemming from a growing social and
political conscience on the part of artists in the face of the hardships of the
Great Depression, the movement which led to the adoption of jazz and other
vernacular styles in art music found its counterpart in lectures and writings
which were largely aimed at bringing the experience of music, both new and
developing with the growth of the universities in the U.S.A. The advent of the
music, as to many other fields. Among the many refugees from Germany,
Austria and elsewhere in Europe, musicians of all types arrived - among them
than the influx of composers, but no less important in its effect on American
musical life, was the arrival of a number of musicians who had studied with
theory and analysis. Previously to this, Schenker's theories had had only a
limited influence outside the small band of disciples in Vienna, although this is
not to say that his theories were completely unknown in America. Roger
Sessions, for example, became aware of Schenker's ideas through his many
visits to Europe in the 1920s and 30s, providing a critique of these by way of
obituary in 1935, and reviewing the first edition of Per freie Satz in 1938.^
such figures as Milton Babbitt and Alien Forte, it is clear that the presence of
Felix Salzer, Oswald Jonas, Adele Katz, Adolf Weisse and others stimulated
rather than analytical, theory. The originality and later influence of his
These issues were first explored by Babbi tt in the 1940s, and resulted in an
compositional theory was soon extended and developed in various ways, all
1938, became a centre for this type of research. Donald Martino, a pupil of
the twelve-note set. Others, most notably Allen Forte, have used the integer
model for pi tch relationships as an analytical tool for examining the pre-serial
been a potent influence on composi tional practice in the U.S.A. from the early
1960s. It is easy to see how this current of theoretical thought might have
influenced Carter, at a time when his own compositional style had reached
Double Concerto (1961), Piano Concerto (1965), and particularly the Concerto
for Orchestra (1969). Moreover, this 'global' aspect of pitch organisation is all
that Carter does describe when writing about pitch organisation in these
response to a view, widely held at the time but only rarely articulated, that
consistency. Yet it is obvious that Carter did not share the inclination of such
form, or expressive character. These materials are then used with varying
compositional freedom.
still further from the post-war theoretical tradition, which in any case is now
less pervasive. David Schiff writes that "Carter's harmonic procedures consist
of neither system nor general method. They are inseperable from the
expressive and musical needs of the work in which they appear. (Hence
support for this view comes from the extent to which Carter sketches a work -
there are over two thousand pages of sketches for the Second String Quartet
with a work's materials, until the result 'sounds right'. Finally, such a view is
supported by the music: even in cases where pitch and chord charts are
provided, these can be seen to account for very little in the actual textures of
a work.
strange in a composer whose music has often been criticised for being cerebral
analysis which, taking the rhythmically and registrally defined musical surface
as its object, goes at least some way towards accounting for perceived
Quartet, the Double Concerto for Piano, Harpsichord, and Two Chamber
consideration of Carter's mature style, the first part of this thesis consists of
1950s, the emphasis being on the influences of ideas of both musical continuity
10
Chapter 2
expression which once again faces some of the issues raised by modernism's
prime movers. Throughout his life, he has been remarkably receptive towards
ideas and stimuli from other branches of the arts, sciences, and philosophy -his
first notable success as a composer was the ballet score Pocahontas, based on
poem The Bridge, and it is significant that each of his later and most
characteristic works, from, say, the First String Quartet (1951) onwards,
form and musical character. Moreover, Carter himself has related the change
in his compositional style and aesthetic which occurred during the 1940s and
50s to factors which include a reappraisal of Freud's ideas on the innate self-
Freud and the Second World War did much to make Carter realise the futility
however, the sources of both his disenchantment with the aesthetic of neoclas-
sicism and his move towards a style which, although clearly different from
music and writing. In this respect, the re-encounter with Freud can be thought
musical thought.
formation of his mature compositional style and technique in the late 1940s
are varied and numerous. Broadly speaking, they can be divided into three
13
ideas on music:
can be seen to stem from his encounter at Harvard with the speculative
New York, 1924, Integrates the following year), Ives (Concord sonata, songs),
Skryabin (the late piano music, Poeme d'extase), Bartok, and the Second
freely aired in the discussions which seem to have been an important part of
drew him towards the music of other mystically inclined composers, that of
Dane Rudhyar, for example. 9 Carter recalls "practicing late Scriabin for hours
15
groups, has affected numerous composers in different (and not only musical)
ways - one thinks of Cowell, Cage, Hovhaness. fn Carter's case the interest
his friendship with the composer and authority on Balinese music Colin
performance in Tunisia.^-'-
It seems that Carter first started composing in 1925, the year in which
he first heard The Rite of Spring. Before commencing his studies at Harvard in
1926 he had attempted to write "a very 'advanced' piano sonata, as well as
experiences of new music up to that time; he admits that "after all, I had my
reacted at the time of the depression, and to which I have since returned, in a
certain sense. "13 The effective extent of this influence on these early works is
likely to have been severely limited, however, by the general lack of insight
into the technical bases of contemporary musical styles at that time in the
recalls understanding that "this music used different chords, but I was
concerned then with making the music fit into the familiar tonal harmony-
book patterns with added notes."l^ Furthermore, whilst it was clearly "easy in
Varese, ... it was very hard to put your finger on what it was that made each
so different."!^
Carter's studies at Harvard could hardly improve matters for him in this
respect:
concentrating instead on English literature and reserving work in music for his
graduate years.
and an M.A. in music two years later, having studied with Walter Piston and
Gustav Hoist, the latter a visiting lecturer at Harvard at that time. During
these and his following years in Paris, his thoughts on music and his own
associating with progressive ideas in art and music, influences which may be
Nadia Boulanger.
writers in the U.S.A. during the 1920s and 30s, in response to a variety of
influences. In the aftermath of the First World War, the ideal of a new order
the continuing political instability in Europe - to quote Carter, "... the whole
18
part of the madness that led to Hitler."I? Although still appreciative of the
ideas in general, Carter felt (although he adds perhaps not rightly) "that the
whole German cult of hypertrophic emotion could have been responsible for
the disaster we were witnessing in front of our hoses . . . This is why . . . many
reason' and to a more moderate point of view . . ."-*-° The 'call to order' in the
arts in post-World War I America found its most influential spokesman in the
literary critic Irving Babbitt, in such books as The New Laokoon and Rousseau
many other excesses of the moderns left a sense of certain limits beyond
which art could not go without destroying itself and becoming meaningless."^
in the musical domain by the growing links between Paris and the U.S.A..
Aaron Copland, Nadia Boulanger's first American pupil, had studied there with
her from 1920 to 1924; his experiences (and subsequent success) encouraged
others to travel to Paris to study with her, this soon becoming a veritable
19
institution in American music. Virgil Thomson and Walter Piston were among
the next generation of Boulanger pupils; Piston returned from Paris to teach at
Harvard in 1926, the first year of Carter's study there. The extent of Carter's
respect for Piston can be gathered from his comments in Flawed Words and
Stubborn Sounds: "Up to that time . . . the only person on the faculty really
interested in modern music was Walter Piston, who was very sympathetic"^,
and from his extended article on Piston's life and music which appeared in
1946. 21
the music of Copland and of Roger Sessions. Copland, the more flamboyant
and public figure of the two, was growing in reputation both as a composer and
as a promoter of new music. His works of the 1920s reflect his studies with
Americanism in music that was to lead to the overtly American ballet scores
range of works by composers of both North and South America; Copland's own
tastes and experiences resulted in the fact that of the composers represented,
age who had spent some time studying in France (often under Boulanger), and
and the League of Composers, under Varese, in whose concerts the works
Sonata perhaps attracted the most attention. Copland's comments after its
later performance at the 1931 I.S.C.M. festival, held in London and Oxford,
give an impression of the nature of the response to the work: "... to know the
work well is to have the firm conviction that Sessions has presented us with a
his own debt to Sessions, particularly in his own Piano Sonata (1945-46).
Also important for Carter at this time, as mentioned above, were the
Philosophy at Harvard from 1924. Carter recalls that "Process and Reality
came out while I was a student, and what I could and can understand of it,
along with Science and the Modern World, Adventures of Ideas, and his other
works, with their stress on organic patterns, have molded my thinking - not
'philosophy of organism1 :
ideas for a conception of musical process were fully realised only in the 1960s
and subsequently, in works which depend on growth and relation rather than
repetition for their unity, and in which the idea of 'spatio-temporal extension',
22
with music somewhat different from that which had fired his adolescent
enthusiasm in the years before 1926. Given the growing sense in the U.S.A. of
a need for some sort of 'return to order', and the strong European connections
on Carter's part of the need to develop his own compositional craft, it was
only natural that he should follow in the footsteps of Copland, Piston and many
others, and make the journey to Paris to study with Nadia Boulanger. His
Paris, to such an extent that, for Carter, "the Bach cantatas have remained
for me a kind of 'central musical experience 1."^ At that time, Boulanger had
strongly disposed towards a neoclassical aesthetic. "By the time I studied with
interest me very much."28 Carter might easily have added the name of
Charles Ives to these two; at this stage in his development he must have been
renewed appreciation before Ives' music again became important for him.
result of the widespread hardship and as part of a growing social concern at all
levels, artists had come to feel uncomfortable with the predominantly elitist
to this overriding social pressure, elements within the arts were, as we have
musical style in certain works of the early 1930s, notably the Variations for
24
situation worsened,
his later music. Symptomatic of his Parisian experience, and of his exposure
to the music of Stravinsky, his first major work now acknowledged was a
ballet, Pocahontas (1938), which arose from his position as music director of
Ballet Caravan, a company founded in 1937 by Lincoln Kerstein, who had been
Pocahontas resides in the subject of the ballet rather than the music itself, the
scenario taking as its point of departure the section of Hart Crane's The
Bridge which deals with the arrival of the first European settlers in America,
allegorically through the relationship between the pioneer John Smith and
25
clearly owes much to Stravinsky and Hindemith in its rhythmic and melodic
constructions, for example in the first chord of the work, which superimposes
than on the use of thematic fragments or motives; and the structural use of
The first of these is most evident in John Smith in the Forest, the
second movement of the orchestral suite extracted from the ballet score.
this period - notable instances occur in the music of Sessions (Violin Concerto,
26
1935) and Roy Harris (Third Symphony, 1939). This typically American feature,
all too easily associated with "a vision of empty distances . . . the sense of
Carter's transitional and mature works into a more abstract yet musically
happening in the overall texture at that point). Carter's use of the device in
reharmonisation of the opening melodic idea (b.4-5) over a pedal C (b. 10-13),
as opposed to the C# of the initial presentation. The last chord of the ballet,
These elements of style and technique are present to some degree in all
27
stratification and linear evolution, can be seen as prefiguring some of the most
Overture of 1944, although occasional passages in the first and last movements
of the First Symphony (1942, revised 1954, and hot succeeded by a second or
The 'long line' style of melodic writing is the basis of the two short
pieces for viola and piano, Pastoral (1940) and Elegy (1946), and is most
28
the sonata, an important concern of Carter's later music appears for the first
time, namely the direct association of the musical materials of a work with
grow from the overtone series of the work's first pitches, and their conflict
with fifth-cycles based on the same pitches, B and A**1 , thus developing the
texture from the particular resonances of the instrument itself. These two
pitches also serve as the focal points in the tonal conflict central to the
sonata, between B and B* . Beyond this, the work can be considered Carter's
'hymn' which frames the second movement's fugue suggesting Copland at his
Chapter 3
variety of any body of works from his career. Scores which bear witness to his
move away from the neoclassical and Americanist approaches, and which
reflect his many different preoccupations at this time, coexist for a while with
in the ballet The Minotaur (1947) and the Wind Quintet (1948). Indeed, these
conflicting tendencies can be seen to operate within single works, even one
such as the Cello Sonata (1948) which breaks so much new ground in terms of
materials and processes, but integrating these and other elements to produce
more extended musical arguments. To the first of these groups belong the two
sets of pieces which Carter completed in 1950, Eight Etudes and a Fantasy for
30
woodwind quartet, and a group of six pieces for four timpani (two being added
in 1966, and the others revised, to form the Eight Pieces for Four Timpani).
The Cello Sonata marks the start of the latter tendency, rapidly fulfilled in
the First String Quartet (1950-51) and further developed in the Sonata for
Flute, Oboe, Cello and Harpsichord (1952) and the Variations for Orchestra
(1955). With these works, Carter reached the threshold of his mature style and
'Harpsichord Sonata1 and the Variations seem to stand apart from the
developments in these areas initiated by the Cello Sonata and First Quartet.
This may be due to the nature of the commissions for the two later works (and
conversely to the fact that the quartet was written for personal reasons, and
had not been commissioned^). The Sonata was requested by the Harpsichord
dictated by the nature of the ensemble, the flute, oboe and cello colouring and
31
expression, details of shape, phrasing, rhythm, and texture, as well as the large
form . . . were all determined by and grew out of a desire to explore the many
instruments serving as a frame to set this off in best relief, and with their
orchestral work in his 'new style1 , and he was doubtless concerned with
which requires the composer - at least a more advanced one - to simplify his
density factor not available in chamber music."^ These problems arise from,
and are perpetuated by, the very nature of the modern symphony orchestra, in
which instrumental families are seated together, wind and brass instruments
grouped in the threes and fours required by the triads and seventh chords of
32
no means traditional, the nature of the material, and the simple three-part
interpolation. This is in marked contrast to the Cello Sonata and First Quartet,
important.
and treated in ways which suggest serial procedures in the course of the work.
The two 'ritornello' themes also serve as sources for melodic material used in
between the variations, the first stated at a faster tempo at each appearance,
33
Variations), I shall now present a critical and analytical study of the Cello
subsequent development.
continuity in his music. The sources on which he drew were, firstly, the
hard to see how many of the non-Western musics cited by Carter in his notes
procedures. For example, the Indian and Arabic rhythmic systems, tala and
durub, both operate in a monophonic context, and cannot give rise to the
units entailed by both of these systems might possibly have been an influence
music from the 1960s on. The same considerations arise in connection with
described by Colin McPhee^, are less rhythmic types than tempo 'zones', two
of the three appropriate to the form gending ageng. The particular feature of
these is that they allow for accelerations, in the transition from gangsar to
Carter's works. This said, the African music cited by Carter may be a more
significant influence, in that the music of the Watusi's 'Royal Drums' does
this rigid pattern a line of flexible metre using more varied time values^.
bars of 9/4 against nine of 8/4), and tempi, in terms of proportions derived
cycle of 9/4 against 8/4, as suggested above, can also operate on a smaller
8
| i i i i i i i
scale as a polyrhythm: | , t , , , , , , . This in turn may be expressed as a
q
combination of two suitably related tempi, say m.m,160:m.m.l80). It should be
stressed that Carter took from Cowell's speculations no more than the idea of
music from the time of the composition of the Cello Sonata. These
such works as the Cello Sonata and First Quartet. As an instance of the
structural use of tempo relationships (as opposed to the use of contrasts which
may be merely affective, when, for example, a slow movement might follow a
fast one, or a light and rapid sonata-allegro might succeed a portentious and
by Carter in Flawed words and Stubborn Sounds': the music of late fourteenth-
Op.Ill); Stravinsky, in his Symphonies of Wind Instruments and Les Noces; and
the later music of Webern (no examples of Webern's use of tempo in this way
are given by Carter: the most striking is perhaps in the Variations for
Orchestra, Op.30, where 160 and 112 are the only metronome indications
some further examples from the twentieth century: the first movement of
Stravinsky's Concerto for Two Pianos, in which the motoric pulse which runs
and six in the central one; and the Piano Sonata no.l by Roger Sessions, a work
already shown to have been important to Carter (example 3.1). In fact, this
structural use of tempo makes explicit something that is often only implied in
much music from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, in which the rate of
distinguishing the structural role of individual sections of the music within the
note that Carter's thoughts on tempo and structure were reinforced in 1943
Beethoven's music^.
The Caneries from the pieces for four timpani provides a concise
summarised in example 3.2. Here Carter establishes a base tempo, J.=90, which
is associated with the movement's principal thematic material. This forms the
'refrain' of an A-B-A-C-A outline, the first move away from J-=90 relatively
short, preparing for the more extended metrical excursion of the second
'episode'. This commences with the same metrical modulations did the first,
composer and teacher who had emigrated to the U.S.A. in 1928. His most
approach of Schillinger in his work did not appeal, yet the review does appear
describing
metrical unit are found in the Cello Sonata (III b.22-24) and the First Quartet
last movement of the Sonata for Flute, Oboe, Cello and Harpsichord, where
I Is* I I
j j and J. j. (ex.3.4); and the whole is strongly predictive of Carter's use,
the formulation of his own Harmony Book in the 1960s. Carter comments that
and registrations.
been touched upon. The intuitive and often seemingly irrational way in which
tempi are combined in certain scores by Ives may have appeared unacceptable
to Carter's more ordered sensibility: now provided with concrete means for
controlling this sort of texture as a result of his encounter with the writings of
procedures.
In two articles, "The Time Dimension in Music" and "Music and the
Time Screen"-^ Carter sets out his ideas on the philosophical problem of the
particular writers who have interested and influenced him, although as with
41
memory: one can never be entirely sure that the ideas mentioned in connection
with a work were in fact the most important factors in its composition as it
appeared at the time, or that these ideas have not undergone modification
since the composition of the work in question. The principal sources for
Carter's ideas on time and music are the articles "Le Temps et la Musique" by
Koechlin's article, building on Bergson's idea that time as 'pure duration' can
distinguished by periodicity.
that work's musical processes, ontological time (one presumes Bergson's 'real
the seventh chapter, 'The Image of Time', of Feeling and Form, is altogether
more flexible: after assesing Koechlin's four categories in the passage already
resolution our own experiences of stesses and relaxations that make up, for
would also seem to have links with his third category, chronological time. For
takes its place precisely as a rather special category of experienced time. This
to say that the idea could not have been subsequently appropriated and used
encountered in all but the very simplest music. Analytical theory supports this
developed by Leonard Meyer and others in the field of Information Theory, but
The Cello Sonata was composed in 1948, directly after the Wind
(the first to be composed) and finale; the form of both is governed to a large
the Sonata is, as might be imagined, closest in atmosphere to the Quintet. The
evolution of style over the course of the four movements (the first movement
being the last to be composed) indicates the rapidity with which Carter's
Carter has claimed that the second movement, which is his last to use a
time"15; this might, however, be thought true only within the overall stylistic
during the composition of the work. While it is clear that the Wind Quintet is
chamber music for wind instruments, it should not be overlooked that Carter
45
works which were not overtly populist in intention - the Piano Sonata, for
American music (as does the equally rhetorical 'third movement' of the
Concerto for Orchestra), with its roots in the music of Copland and Roy
Harris.
of slow and fast movements, baroque rather than classical models. The
individual movements possess outwardly simple structures, with the first three
displaying ternary forms, the last being a free rondo, again denying the Sonata
is set a cyclical design: the music of the opening of the first movement returns
in a modified form at the close of the work, and the first bars of the third and
fourth movements are 'predicted1 in the conclusions of the second and third
respectively (ex.3.5).
end of a work to make it truly 'circular' in the manner that Carter appears to
46
movement of the Sonata, however, the tempo of the first movement's opening
speed marking the climax of the movement and of the work as a whole
(ex. 3. 6). Moreover, the links between the second, third and fourth movements,
entire Sonata, the first movement related across the intervening music to the
conclusion of the last. David Schiff has suggested that the end of the first
movement is in fact the true conclusion of the sonata, noting that the first
movement quotes material from the other three^. This is a view which
accords with the chronology of the work's composition, but which overlooks
Op. 131, in which both the overall tonal and stylistic developments are
The opening of the Cello Sonata presents two distinct types of music,
47
sections only, the central part in contrast bringing the two instruments
Within the piano part itself in the first part of the movement, distinct
time values over a steadily maintained pulse of j =112, for example at b.55
(ex.3.7). The piano part from b.19 shows a feature much used by Carter in his
piano is apparent in b.51-52, where, momentarily, the piano part has a line as
48
rhythmically varied as anything in the cello part, whilst the cello plays a
functionality, with its roots in the music of Hindemith and Stravinsky, and a
pitch-relations arising from qualities of interval and line usurp the role of
the Sonata's four movements in their order of composition, with the proviso
that, although the role of tonality diminishes and that of the motive increases,
comparable to some of Carter's earlier music in its use of scale and mode. The
movement's opposition of tonalities on B and B"9 recalls the use of the same
keys in the Piano Sonata and Wind Quintet. This opposition, at first stated
b.15-25). More often, the shifts between the two principal forms these keys
V,
take, B major and B minor, are engineered through the large number of
frequently in the other movements of the Sonata, but on a small scale: in these
The Cello Sonata was Carter's first work to feature a 'key-chord1 , a pitch-class
intervallic and pitch relations in a less obvious way. The principal chord of the
register into an interval pair, i.c.3 + i.e.7 ((X) in ex.3.10). The music which
secondary motive ((z) in ex.3.10) which, although not a subset of (X), is related
designated as (a) and (b) in example 3.10, together with (z), occur consistently
50
in the first movement and in the more chromatic sections of the remaining
means of their frequent appearance and association. Example 3.11 gives some
instances of their use. Moreover, the interval classes of (X), when regrouped
chords which are all used in the harmony of the Sonata (ex.3.12).
textural and thematic contrasts and recurrences. The cello reintroduces its
opening line at b.105, partially transposed, and with the rhythmic values
there are connections between the music that each plays. The theme which
appears in b.19-21 in the piano echoes a line rising through a major third in the
compositions.
is achieved in a way which will serve, at least in part, as a basis for the
vestige of tonal function. This is the case in the very first bar, in which the
the registal extremes of the bar, and at the peak of a crescendo. B is also
the work's key chord, endowing this essentially atonal collection with a
The opening gesture, and its transposed reappearance towards the end
above. Between these points, although the motivic organisation of pitch results
octaves in the piano part at b.27, 31, 98-99; as a chord bass, generally
function - hence G at the close of the first section of the ternary form, and
note subsets of the work's 'key-chord1 , (X). This interaction of motive and
these focal pitches in motivic configurations involving this subset or the other
(b) in the cello) and b.98 (whose pitches comprise subset (a)).
The use of the four-note chord (X) in the Cello Sonata prefigures the
similar use of the all-interval tetrachord (0,1,4,6) in the First String Quartet.
53
sonority used principally at important points in the structure: in both, the set
the work's opening bar, and the first bars of the last movement also make this
construction strikingly clear, inverting i.c.7 at the bottom of the chord into
characteristic of all four movements of the sonata. Its use in the first has
opening thematic idea, and is also important in the harmony of some passages,
for example b.12-16 (these bars use subset (a) in an overlapping sequence in a
similar way to the end of the first movement). The third movement might be
of the 'key-chord' (X), expressed as i.e.5 rather than i.c.7. The piano's line in
Carter cites the article by Suvchinsky discussed in the first part of this
with) led me to the opening of the Cello Sonata, in which the piano, so to
time."-'-' Quite apart from the applicability of these concepts to older music
(is this perhaps what Carter is not sure he agrees with?), runnning the risk of
of the piano at the beginning of the sonata could not be said to embody
'chronometric' time except in a very simple sense, in that its rhythm (but its
tonality such as is found in the Cello Sonata, most definitely does charge the
music with tensions, the resolutions of which can perforce only rarely
correspond to the progress of 'real time' in the work. Moreover, the contrast,
in terms of texture and rhythmic character, between the music played by the
interaction of the two parts, this being nothing if not intensely 'chrono-
ametric'.
Exactly how far the movement might be said to symbolise the contrast
the subject of musical time - not forgetting that Feeling and Form was
published five years after the composition of the Cello Sonata. However, it is
the problem residing in the need for quantification and qualification of music's
of Schenker and, latterly, Meyer - and make these more sensitive to the larger
of instrumental parts, together with the use of intervals and small sets to
generate a spontaneous and ever-varied line, are the most significant in view
technique which recalls the early atonal music of the Second Viennese School
which owes more (in this work) to Hindemith than Stravinsky, and a self-
the sonata except the first - these confirm the transitional position of the
dwelling on its more radical aspects. Certainly, as his first 'motivic' work, it
part of this chapter undoubtedly did lead to certain features of the work, there
is clearly more to the Cello Sonata than this, both in itself and as a portent of
In the late 1960s and early 70s it appeared to many people that musical
(roughly) between 1908 and 1924 by Schoenberg and his former students. In a
series of articles published throughout the decade, Alien Forte refined the
theory which received its fullest exposition with the publication, in 1973, of
between, on the one hand, the increasingly motivic music of the early years of
the century, and on the other, the achievement of serial technique in the early
59
properties of serialism.
much the same way (although admittedly to a lesser extent) as has Schenkerian
analysis with respect to tonal music. At its best, it can produce analyses
such that much of even the best must often be seen as being, in a literal sense,
and in analytical articles^ by various authors: the main areas of dissent are
summarised below.
musical texture. Register and linear connections are considered only tacitly in
so far as they give rise to possible segmentations of the music into pitch-class
60
sets: without this proviso (which is not considered in the canonical literature
of set theory, as far as I am aware) a set analysis could serve as a basis for the
i.e.11 span.
However, all that Forte offers in terms of criteria for such 'editing' is the
segment will not extend over a vertical rest - that is, a silence in all parts' 1 ^,
and the contextual suggestion that "if a particular segment forms a set that is
61
component"^. However, Forte adds that "on the other hand, a segment that
forms a set that occurs only once may have its own raison d'etre"". Among a
Peter Johnson (in an analysis of Webern's Op. 10 no.4 10) and William Benjamin
(on Op. 10 no. lH) are notable, drawing respectively on a reduced repertoire of
of an entire community are not at all explained by a map which shows where
the members of various families live".l^ The system organised by this concept
in set theory is indeed rich and complex, but this complexity is not necessarily
than simply pitch-class. The work of Benjamin and others in this field, while it
whatever terms these are defined by individual analysts. This said, this
particular tradition could not have arisen without the stimulus of Forte's work:
music, by Forte himself, Adele Katz, Roy Travis and Felix Salzer^ are all
limited in the style of the works examined, and are further constrained by an
piece by the listener, and include factors influenced by line, by durational and
on. The goal of this latter type of analysis is presented by Benjamin with
Other attempts have been made at defining and explaining these 'broad
segmentations need not be mutually exclusive. Hasty has also examined more
some accuracy the notions of phrase, closure and process with respect to
embodies absolute notions of pitch and interval, and which describes pitch and
have influenced the development of my own ideas in analysis, and will be cited
appeal for an analytical approach which might identify "those broad strokes
these and the musical surfaces so supported. In the larger context, the
its most complex, is generally held to be 'unified' in just this way, this being a
will have become clear by this stage that this analytical endeavour is to be
listener is well-versed in the style of the works being considered, and that it
heard (perhaps even to the extent of studying a score!), and that this reflection
however intuitive, of a piece, the techniques developed will also take into
account the nature of the experience of music 'in time', reflecting the
Premises
assumed for atonal as well as tonal music, although there may be marked
local sense. This occurs through the operation of a number of factors defined
all of which affect the relative strengths and qualities of the percieved
relationships.
pitches.
interpretation. The qualities of a sounding note which articulate and define its
(ii) Duration
(Hi) Repetition
notions of local segmentation are possibly the most useful criteria to apply.
Stefan Wolpe^, presents six alternative segmentations of the first bar (itself
As many factors as possible are examined to support (+) or contradict (-) each
69
acceptable from the point of view of isolating fragments which may become
'thematic' in later passages, does not account for every element of the texture
and perceived hierarchy is that it should not be selective in this way. Given
which lies behind the actual distribution of pitches in the instrumental parts
bases of segmentation (their term is grouping) in tonal music 24^ ancj their
general claim about the minimum size for groups: "Avoid analyses with very
line by virtue of their position in that line, which, if not counteracted by other
factors acting more strongly, can weight these pitches relative to the others in
the segment. The first and last pitches in a segment may be highlighted in this
way; similarly, pitches which border rests within the segment (although given
the size of the segments being considered, this latter case is rare: rests at this
pitches which serve as turning points in the contour of a line. Framing of this
pitches.
Both (a) and (b) are susceptible of many degrees of emphasis, from a pitch
repeated just once in the course of a segment to repeated groups and ostinato
patterns. In a larger context, (b) can play an important part in creating the
levels remains a problem in all music, tonal and atonal, although the issues
distinction between (low level) metrical structure and (high level) grouping
phenomenon " in tonal music^^ should dissuade us from seeking too earnestly
patterning is rare even at the lowest level. It should also remind us that this
styles. The opening bars of Schoenberg's Op. 11 no.l (ex. 4.3) are clearly
gestural - the music 'goes through the motions' of a slow waltz - rather than
necessarily functional. Moreover, the effect is local, the notated metre being
following bars. More complex accounts of the function of rhythm and metre in
atonal and serial music have been attempted by Forte^? and by Martha
underlying set structures. This approach commits the error of regarding metre
one level. Forte and Hyde are essentially describing criteria for relating
metre, and even this is pursued in a way which begs the usual questions as to
metre clearly is able to project pitch structure at a local level in the same
way as it does in tonal music. In the absence of other factors, then, one might
dynamic accent will receive structural weight, again, in the absence of other,
pitches in this way: such 'timbral' stress tends to dissociate pitches from their
weighted pitches has hitherto not been examined. The clearest precedent for a
more detailed study of these 'subliminal' means whereby pitches are heard as
These can create larger contexts, and modify smaller ones, in conformance
egually traditional elements of gesture and line which, acting in collusion with
hint of the 'alter Duff of tonal function. In particular, the basic configuration
draws on the relative metrical positions of gl and fl (fl and e 1 in b.3), their
perceived in the line. The line's descent through i.e. 2 and 1 respectively, and
opposed to the 'leap 1 of any larger interval class), are important in assigning
of line and gesture, fl, taking its place between two adjacent pitches, is heard
as a passing note, subordinate to its note of departure (gl) and arrival (e-^-).
number of pitches.
77
in the act of perception in the light of the context. Defining the criteria for
the largest scale: all that will be offered here is a preliminary and provisional
set of observations which will provide a 'working model 1 for the production of
that interval class at each new level established by the previous operation of
(not only in music), is carried over into the textures of musical surfaces, where
simply the linear extension of intervallic replication: the last quaver of b.12 of
small scale, followed by a less obvious ascent in i.c.l in the next two bars
partially equivalent to the sense in which Hasty discusses the concept: "The
intervals which a single pitch forms with other pitches in a given context I will
call simply the intervallic associations of that pitch."^5 Hasty appears to have
vector, for any pitch in any set. In the analyses which follow, my own use of
the term is both more specific, in that not all relationships of pitches to other
pitches are considered, and broader, in that context on both large and small
by the listener. This contention rests on a view of the mind's procedures for
1950s by Noam Chomsky, and since applied to numerous other fields, such as
overriding theory of mind for which evidence is drawn from the whole range of
80
either individually or collectively, must embody the essence of its own means
for producing and interpreting structure. Jacques Lacan has gone as far as
structure to such music? Finally, how does it compare with the structures of
Theorists and analysts have not yet considered this problem to any great
simply on the differences between tonal and atonal music, as many others have
'middleground' stages to the 'foreground1 and to the musical surface itself, and
been noted. Yet the differences are equally significant, if not more so: the
Chomsky's deep structures are not acceptable sentences; the tonal hierarchy
hierarchies as defined by Chomsky apply only to the level of the sentence, not
level of deep structure, while tonal compositions can draw on only three
hierarchical, but not in the same way as at the level of the sentence. ^ This
action, plot, and reference to both internal and external codes.^0 In terms of
thematic and 'motivic 1 structure) are not structured in this way: the elements
define the hierarchic structure of atonal music with respect both to tonal
musical and to narrative structures. Tonal music is indeed singular in the depth
its greatest achievements. However, atonal music has the potential for more
two or more hierarchic systems, each recursive only within particular limits,
but which together structure the whole. This leaves open the question as to the
terms of the structural weight assigned at lower levels. Beyond the description
A second analogy suggests itself. If, on the other hand, we compare the
abandon ing plot for a more contextual and 'open* means of structural
expression in much the same way as occurred in the literature of the twentieth
we can no longer speak of the meaning of a text, only 'meanings': "We know
now that a text [elsewhere Barthes distinguishes between 'work' and 'text', the
latter embracing the new order of structure] is not a line of words releasing a
text, just as certain pieces of music may offer both a relatively stable tonal
exploration of these is the purpose of the four short analyses which follow.
intervallic relationships through the use of slurs and brackets of various kinds.
The dotted slur invariably indicates a retained pitch: the simple slur usually
21,3 Illustrating the clear process in i.e.3 which the passage embodies, from
the first segment's g-"- to the d'7 2 reached on the downbeat of bar 9. Example
and d*7 ^ over e^ and b* 1 by virtue of duration and dynamic. Given this ascent
and the means by which it is carried out, the ambiguities of the first segment
are clarified and placed in an unequivocal context. In terms of the criteria for
when the larger intervallic context is taken into account (in particular, the
presentation of the identical set of five pitches in the second segment) the
(and as such resumed in the 'key-tap' section, b. 24-25), whereas eVgl is filled
the first twelve bars of Schoenberg's Op.ll no.l. The roles of metre and
the opening six-note melody have already been described. The registral
consistency of this line is matched by that of the lowest strand in the texture,
the 'bass' moving from the pitch G"5 through i.e. 4 to B^ , then returning in a
descending i.c.4 which follows (G-E*7 ) inverts the opening interval of the bass
line, producing the lowest pitch of the piece so far. This is the first
appearance of the pitch-class e V> which, given its prominence here (marking a
87
marker of closure in the lower registers. The association of the two i.e.4 in
this register at the beginning of Op.11 no.l (G*5 /Er - G/E^ ) prodiluces
further demonstrated by examples 4.8 (b) and (c). Each of the pitches
Beneath the associations of the upper part, at first sight concerned with
i.e.3 and 1 in b.1-8, the lower and inner parts develop independent
manifest in the upper part in b.9-11, where the contour of the opening line is
presented using these intervals linearly, rather than the i.e.3 and 1 of the first
(f# l_dl-bk ). This change in intervallic emphasis may in turn influence our
88
structural perception of the opening phrase itself (ex. 4. 9), the association of
i.e. 4 through i.e. 2 which can also be extracted from the line being a symptom
occurs twice in the melody of the opening phrase, the first time in retrograde
the pitch-class eV> (E^ and particularly E^ j) as a focal pitch in the bass
activity in a higher register (ex.4.11(a)). In the upper part, the three highest
pitches of the piece are related through a process in i.c.l, the immediate
climactic statement of the opening line (in a varied form) before the return in
various sizes, through which Boulez selects a 'path' (or more than one, in
counterpoint) from one set to the next. From each derived set, a number of
pitch-classes (not necessarily all of them) are chosen and deployed. Example
4.13 attempts to illustrate some possible criteria for Boulez's choices in terms
of the intervallic consistency of the texture which results in the first ten bars
These are adumbrated in the first bar, the alto flute's initial i.e. 3 (
first i.e. 5, then i.e. 3 in the upper register (b 1-e 2. e 2. C 2) ? ancj \ mC j t then
i.e. 2 which arises in the middle voice' (b^-a^) and is paralleled in the upper
register (b^ 2 -a P 2) t jh} s association reflects the linear i.e. 2 in the alto
entries. The trichord (0,1,3), presented twice in the alto flute's opening
spacings. The alto flute's initial pitch, e 5 , is retained as an upper pitch in the
to the alto flute in b.9. In b.9, e^ is the upper pitch of an i.e. 3 statement
91
(e -c&3) which mirrors the alto flute's opening interval (e-^-g^), creating a
prominent in the middle register in the last four bars (in particular, the
as another stable element in the texture. At the registral level a^, the pitch-
class a is the only one confined to a single octave position in the section; the
whole trichord appears in the viola part in b.4; the i.e. 2 ab is retained
between viola and vibraphone in b.4-6; and the i.e. 5 aVd 2 receives a
Taking the three pitches together, one element of the 'progression' of the first
producing an inverted form of the (0,2,5) trichord occupying the same registral
space (aVc 2/d 2). This shift might in turn be thought of as being 'generated' by
the lower i.e. 3 association of a^-, f" -*-, which occurs in b.2 and is conspicuc
ICL'OUS
92
example 4.15 which also presents the large-scale upper register association in
stable, yet 'suspended', floating in some sense. The three principal analytical
justifications of this impression are the stability of the upper register; the
the large-scale retention of e^, d^ and a^; and the absence of any clearly
perceptual primacy (the vocal line as Hauptstimme) and structural priority (is
the music composed for, or against, the poem?). In *O Breath' the vocal part is
90
differentiated from the instrumental texture not only through timbre, but also
37 x
65 x r ,—— 3: J~
43 x
22 x J : this soon drops out of the texture. The disposition of the polyrhythm
in the instrumental parts, and its 'clothing' in sound, result in a texture which
typographical division of each line into two parts, inhalation and exhalation:
and density contours reflect the shape of the poem's individual lines. The
their use of interval: particular pitches serve as temporary foci in both line
in example 4.16. The vocal settings of the poem's title ('O Breath', b.5-8) and
the lines enclosed in parentheses ("see the thin flying ... on your own breath",
the rest of the poem. Perhaps more significantly, the tendency in both these
more fluid linear relationships presented elsewhere in the vocal line. This
95
feature of the setting can be related to the function of these portions of the
text within the poem: the title is set as a formal introduction, the
parenthetical lines also standing out from the main line of thought of the
observation.
In the vocal setting of the title (ex.4.17) the initial pitch a^ is the focal
pitch of the line. This pitch is reiterated, the line returning to a^ twice within
the setting of the title itself, and again shortly after the start of the setting of
the poem itself. The octave above, a^, marks the highest point in the melisma.
virtue of repetition and duration. The extent of this passage enables intervallic
often serve as secondary pitch centres, the return to c^ L occurring four times
basis, emphasis on a particular pitch seldom extending for more than a bar or
two. The two points in the setting at which the highest pitch in the line
appears both show tendencies for pitches to acquire structural weight. In the
first of these, in b.16-17, r^^/q * 2 serves to anchor a semi tonal motion of the
covering longer spans appear: these can be examined in terms of three areas of
register, upper, middle, and lower. Example 4.20 shows the focal pitches of
The highest pitches in each phrase, and sometimes the second highest
also, are limited for much of the song to members of two (pitch-class)
equivalent three-note sets: (A) d^ Vf^ Va^; (B) dVfVbl. These are
introduced successively, (A) accounting for the pitches in the upper part of the
first four phrases (b.1-7), an overlap occuring in phrase 5 (b.8-9), and (B)
of (A) and (B) interpenetrate, 'foreign' pitches appearing only in phrases 15 and
97
23, and in the climactic phrase 20. Above the last instrumental phrase, the
vocal line incorporates all three pitches from (B), resulting in the only melodic
. This pitch, and the pitches decorating it, form a set derived from a
semitonally-associated C*F~ provides the bass for the climax of the song: and
It should be stressed that these partial analyses are concerned only with
based in the more abstract domains of set theory and serialism: it is with this
conviction that the analyses of the following chapters have been undertaken.
99
in March 1960, interrupted work on the Double Concerto, with which it shares
a number of compositional features. These works are "as far advanced beyond
the Variations as the First Quartet had been beyond The Minotaur"!, although
this new-found maturity has expressive and technical roots in the earlier
music, particularly the works of c.1950 - the Cello Sonata, First Quartet, and
Sonata for Flute, Oboe, Cello and Harpsichord. What links these compositions
with the Second Quartet is the characteristic feature, in the earlier works, of
particular intervals, combining, for example, the two major thirds of the Cello
small group of sets related by their potential for orderings expressing their
ex.3.12).
AIT). The First Quartet had made use of only one of these, the set (0,1,4,6),
which I shall identify as the A-type AIT. The other AIT, (0,1,3,7), type B, may
work depending at least as much upon the network of themes presented by the
Harpsichord Sonata is largely derived from the opening bars in a way similar to
deriving sets more directly from the chord as subsets. The Variations for
it now appears) in that, drawing on the experience of the First Quartet, the
clear in the course of the following analysis that the music arises more
directly from a systematic exploitation of the work's source material, the two
101
connection with the Double Concerto, which is also important for the Second
Quartet. It will be seen that AITs are combined in pairs to form eight-note
sets, the remaining four notes of the aggregate, 'residue' tetrachords, sharing
Carter. Listed here are the five- and six-note sets which can be exhaustively
defined in terms of two overlapping AIT statements, i.e. these AITs share a
f6-z49 and f6-z50, can be partitioned in four different ways into pairs of AITs;
A+A, B+B, and A+B(twice). The complements and z-relatives of these four
hexachords contain no AITs as four-note subsets, although they are used in the
combine only A and B tetrachords are not z-related, i.e. they are self-
complementary.
necessity start with the notion of 'scenario1 . In the composer's own words,
I usually have at first a very specific plan of evolution for the whole
of the work, with many details of the local events only generally in mind.
That is, I usually start with an idea of the sound, the musical character,
and the dramatic development of these, similar to the plot - or subject -
outline of a novel, or the scenario of a movie.^
implicit in the first extract is not wholly new in American music, the two most
notable precedents both occurring within the string quartet genre. The second
movement of Charles Ives' Second Quartet pits the second violin, in the
character of the hapless 'Rollo', against the fury of the other instruments, and
103
intentions of the quartet's conception are further indicated by the titles given
to the first page of the manuscript of the work; "S Q for 4 men - who
converse, discuss, argue (in re 'politick'), fight, shake hands, shut up - then
drawing on his earlier experiments in the Cello Sonata and First Quartet, are
character patterns which govern the tempo and texture of their individual
parts, and are also apportioned particular intervals (see example 5.4 - the
adjectives are all Carter's). Carter writes: "In a sense each instrument is like
course of the work, imitating the the gestures of the leader in terms of their
'conversational' texture of the first movement, and forms the basis of the
whole of the third, in which phrases (mostly) initiated by the viola are imitated
other instruments. Between the four principal movements are three cadenzas,
for viola, cello and first violin in turn. In these the expressivity of the solo
complete the scheme, the Introduction and Conclusion present the intervallic
The AITs have two distinct, but occasionally overlapping, roles in the
use of the A-type AIT as a 'key-chord' in the First Quartet. In the Second
Quartet, many points of rhythmic and textural articulation and climax are
b.174 - the first, fleeting chord of II; b.369-373 - 'suspensions' at the end of III;
b.447-448 - the true beginning of IV, in a 'cadence' marking the end of the first
106
violin's cadenza; and b.630-634, the last bars of the quartet, in which both
AITs are stated. In example 5.7, the widely spaced chords of bars 547-49 are
shown to consist of AITs, and a further, more complex example of their use in
texture. This referential use of AITs can be developed into the notion of a
Example 5.2 demonstrated the possible interval pairings available from the
two AITs. Example 5.8 shows instances of this use of AITs in the quartet. The
closing bars of I articulate interval pairs in this way; another use occurs at the
end of the first violin's cadenza, the other instruments building a chain of AITs
primarily of such interval pairs. Moreover, the conclusion also makes use of
One way in which AIT relationships can operate through larger spans of
music can be demonstrated in the cadenza for cello, b.243-85. Here, an eight-
b.243-44, before the cello's first phrase, and reappears, transposed, after that
the registers of these eight pitches for the remainder of the section, eighteen
bars in all. These last bars explore the AIT relationships possible within this
restricted pitch scheme: the last four bars twice articulate, in interval pair
combinations, the source A-type AITs. The four-note residual set appears
twice in these bars, in the cello, b.268-70, and first violin, b.273-74. (Ex.5.10).
The AITs are significantly less prominent in the intervening bars, and
are frequently not present at all. They can be found in places, buried in the
more mobile texture of the passage, but here they are clearly not structural in
the way the larger groups are. Their presence might even be thought of as
The AIT configurations at the opening and close of the cello cadenza
108
to which other pitch relationships in the passage might relate, or from which
Certainly the rhythmic confrontation here, between the cello's rubato and the
regular patterning in the violins, finds a counterpart in the pitch scheme, the
cello's music becoming 'trapped1 in the fixed registers of the last eighteen
bars.
Carter's style in all its richness and complexity. The overall formal scheme has
already been discussed in connection with example 5.5; one of the most
homogenity of texture and 'purpose' that is particularly evident in the last two
109
intervallic and gestural differentiations in the last movement, and also by the
fact that the movement's principal 'themes' are formed by the combined lines
however, formal principles are less easy to define: it is at this level that
The use of the term 'schemata' should not be taken to imply that Carter
in many cases be more accurate to assume the reverse, i.e. that process
material, which in turn creates form through the extension of the original
unfolding and always developing interactions between processes and the source
materials.
110
The referential role of AIT relationships in the quartet has already been
with the easy and characteristic division of AITs into interval pairs, leads to
type of texture recurs throughout, alternating with and thus framing other
strategies, one obvious, the other less so. The cello articulates the movement
236-42, the second of these leading directly into the cello's cadenza. This
modulation, and the first leads to a thematic reference which forms part of
repertoire (here the second violin) are associated in a way which becomes a
which plays this role (ex.5.14). This reappears in b.180 and b.190 only
minimally altered, the first time at its original pitch level, the second time
transposed (t7, commencing on a). Although these are the only (more or less)
structure, one which is developed in the bars immediately following the first
the second violin's music in this movement, even though i.c.2 is not part of the
three or more intervals linked in this way, we may be justified in regarding the
ten pitches are each first stated (generally) by the viola and then imitated in
first movement. The extended use of AIT relationships at the close of III has
closure of the third movement, the opening of which grows from the eight-
note AIT-derived fixed register scheme at the end of the cello's cadenza, by
therefore similar to the first in the 'refrain1 function of the framing AITs,
the case of the cello cadenza, AITs appear less systematically in the course
113
of the music between the framing statements, although at certain points the
showing b.309-14 and b.330-31). The movement's first six pitches present one
of these, f6-9, in a way which conceals, rather than clarifies, the relationship
Example 5.19 shows the formal outline of the fourth (and last) main
based. The movement's tempi form a large-scale two-part design, with the
structure the material develops its own formal tendencies. Bars 421-49 expose
with building composite themes, hidden lines and counterpoints to which all
four instruments may contribute, with less extended references to other types
Finally, from b.563, a long accelerando, led by the cello but soon joined by the
passage which, in its culmination, also embodies one of the movement's two
114
composite themes.
variation and ritornello form, similar to the last movement of the First
Quartet and, on a larger scale, the Variations for Orchestra. The cello 'leads'
this movement, at least nominally, and the passages which feature its
ritornello function. Accelerandi 'frame' the expository bars 421-48, and appear
discussed (see ex.5.6c, 5.7b), and the types defined by cello accelerandi and by
the two other texture types (polyrhythmic textures and composite themes)
Example 5.20 presents the occurrences of the two main composite themes of
the the fourth movement (the example does not show the enigmatic single-line
115
442, 445, and 450, before being combined in two ways: firstly at b.458, in
which the initial interval is i.e.4, and secondly at b.462, the lines slightly
altered, the initial interval here being i.e.7. The first of these produces AIT B
the second generates an A-type AIT in its first pair of intervals, hence
twelve-note aggregate, and each articulates AIT derived hexachords and their
relationships in a striking way, in that the lines that constitute each consist of
type richest in AIT subsets, the other of which, as discussed previously, has no
two sets of three intervals, to give a pair of sets equivalent to those produced
yields a pair of complementary and equivalent sets, the set form of which is
116
3:4:5:6:7:8
Within the movement these relations are used in two different ways; as
equal but mutually distinct durations of, say, 3,4,5 and 7 semiquavers (b.511)
individual lines' equal durations remains the same; the fourth movement
demonstrates this by attaining the latter stage at the climax of the long and
movement, but feature more prominently in the cadenza for viola, where the
subdivisions of a larger value. At the opening of II, 4:5 is the basis of the
metrical distinction between the second violin and the other instruments, and
in the cello cadenza, the two violins maintain a 2:3 (=4:6) polyrhythm. In
modulations involve ratios drawn from this scheme (example 5.21a tabulates
the tempo ratios in the Introduction, I, II and IV). Finally, all the tempi of the
ex.5.21b). 10
more comprehensive account of the pitch relationships in the first sixty bars
of the quartet, comprising the introduction and part of the first movement,
considering not only the use of AITs and other sets, but also linear relations
arising, in the first instance, more directly from the registrally defined
considered (in Chapter 4); it is hoped that, in themselves, these analyses should
laborious for both analyst and reader. However, it is important for the sake of
individual works, and it is this type of decision that the following account will
attempt to clarify.
119
Of the five analytical staves, the upper three deal with aspects of set
relations, the lower two with linear interval and pitch relations. The upper
traditional (if partial) set-theory analysis of the music. Sets demonstrated here
are the two AITs, their five and six-note compounds, AIT subsets when
occasional recurrent set not related to the AITs, for example the cello's
this system are presented in the "AIT frame' system, which shows occurrences
sets' shows AITs and their compounds operating on a higher structural level, as
It also displays the sets derived from regular intervallic processes (in this case
of the type (0,3,6,9)) which govern the extent and direction of some of the
first violin's lines in the first movement (b.35ff.), this latter feature derived
from the linear and registral articulation of pitches and lines demonstrated on
120
the fourth stave. This fourth system presents a low-level interpretation of the
pitches and intervals in various ways, whilst the fifth system, 'symmetry 1 ,
texture and register. Bars 1-18 use only pitches within the restricted range
b ?
within the range g-d L . Example 5.23 establishes a 'high level' structure for
the Introduction, drawing attention to the fact that both A and A' sections are
restricted in range, and related through the retention of the upper pitch of A,
the course of the last movement (particularly in the composite themes and
the Introduction by the g which serves as the lowest pitch of its registral
interval of the register (i.e.15, 12+3, i.e. a 'compound' minor third) and the
presented initially by the second violin in b.20, then by first violin in b.23,
leaving its highest register to make this prominent gesture, the lowest element
of the texture at this point. Its third and final appearance in the section is in
particularly strongly with the b* which follows in the same part almost
semitonal association with the lower registral extreme of the A section. The
however associated with a lower pitch still, g. This is the lowest pitch of a
twelve-note fixed register scheme, the highest pitch of which, as has been
pointed out already, is the d^ 2 retained from the A section. The i.e. 3 g/b*7 at
this point can be derived through association from the first violin's gVb of
b.23. Overall, the section A1 shows a symmetrical pitch process, cr 2_bl in the
upper voice mirrored by g-a in the lower register, a symmetry which becomes
more obvious in the opening motive of the Allegro fantastico, in which each of
i.e. 3.
scale, possibly over the whole quartet. One more instance of its use in a
this is a pitch-class transposition, rather than one in which the registral shapes
of the two configurations are preserved. Finally, to conclude this overall view
123
of the Introduction, it should also be noted that the linear set produced by the
Considering the music in more detail, we may see how the structural
section. The highest pitch, cr""^ \ s approached only slowly, finally appearing in
bar 7 following an ascent by semitones from a I, the work's first pitch. The
lowest pitch of the section, b , is present in the cello's first statement, and
subsequently becomes the basis for an AIT statement extended and elaborated
foreshadowing the structural role of the latter pitch in the B section of the
into circulation the section's upper registral limit, d*7 z , the other of which is
associated with the AIT's other interval, b^ /fl, by i.e.3. This relationship is
appropriate to the intervallic repertoire of the first violin, which duly presents
124
this association in its part. Moreover, this second i.e.7 also combines with the
defined in relation to the structural constant, here the pitch b. Rather, various
types of process and association create a much more fleeting and mobile
texture, the elements of which, for clarity, are summarised in example 5.24.
registral isolation, the cello presents linear statements of two AIT compounds,
leaves the predominant register. Within this section, process and association
music, and as such needs little further comment in connection with the
by the first notes of the quartet, the cello's opening phrase. Although this is an
instance of a set which is not related to AITs in any obvious way, the set does
125
recur, in b.5 and b.9. More important, however, than the identity of p.c.set is
and it is this factor rather than the coincidence of set types which provides
the structural justification for the music at this point. Indeed, the opening
'chained' i.e.5s), association (two i.e.5s related through i.c.l) and symmetry
two registrally extreme i.e.5s of the first set, and further developed by the
first interval played by the first violin, dVfl, 'inside1 this i.c.5). It also
indicates that the music need not be 'coherent' in terms of both types of
at all, by set structures, and sections which employ sets with little evidence of
regular linear patterning. The latter case might be thought somewhat less
likely in that the music's surface will always present a degree of registrally
that the two types of structure will never, or only rarely, interact; in the
the AIT 'frame 1 , whilst in the second section the intervals that result from the
the less tangible elements of interval association and process. This, as we shall
see, is true even of such works as the Concerto for Orchestra, which is
five and seven-note sets: even here interval is a more primary determinant,
registral presentations of the larger sets.H Before considering this later phase
Kirkpatrick's original wish seems to have been for a duo for harpsichord and
pianol; this idea was expanded at an early stage in the work's composition,
ensemble both complements the soloist with which it is grouped (for example,
three of the four brass instruments are given to the harpsichord's ensemble,
revision, as the first performance took place on the 6th September that year.
The Second Quartet interrupted Carter's work on the Double Concerto; to this
kind, the differences are just as significant as the similarities, if not more so.
In the present case, these differences can be seen to stem both from the
of the two differrent mediums, and from a more abstract development of the
feature of the work; it seems possible, however, to assign the more extensive
exclusive use of one or other of the two AITs, whilst the more systematic
of the less rigid tempo relationships of the Second Quartet. This development
of the earlier work's technique generates the important new notion of a "giant
polyrhythm". In addition to this, and aside from the more obvious features of
the newer work (the idea of interval partitioning, however closely bound in this
130
recurring sonority, and the consequential idea of "tonic" registral positions for
for the Double Concerto^. These are generally latent rather than actualised in
the textures of the work, except at certain notable points in the structure:
intervals and their pulse speeds, and the cadenzas for the two solo
from a polyrhythm in which all five of the piano ensemble's intervals move at
elaborate way in the use of multiples of these base tempo values, which
provide a large field of tempi some of which can be associated with more than
scherzando; of this tempo's three base rate factors, two (m.m.35 and 21) are
associated with prominent interval classes in the music at this point (i.c's 4
playing in the 5:3 ratio particularly associated with orchestra II, produce tempi
i.e.11, whilst m.m.63 is a multiple of both 3l£ and 21, giving rise to a double
association of i.c's 5 and 9, both piano intervals. Looking ahead, the notated
metre and tempo of the Presto, J =87£, can be related to m.m.29 1/6 (i.e.6),
21 7/8 (i.e.11), and J7j (i.e.10) - again, two of these three intervals suggested
by the tempo association are appropriate to the ensemble carrying the weight
tempi at once. The polyrhythms of the Introduction are a good example of this,
common shorter durations variously grouped (see ex. 6.3, 6.4). Finally, the
harpsichord ensemble's intervals, 73£ (24| x 3) and 52| (17| x 3). An example
the poetic associations of the work. Carter has spoken of the suggestive nature
relation to the overall design^; David Schiff goes still further by prefacing
each part of his discussion of the work's individual sections with a passage
from one or the other source^. It can not be doubted that these poems are at
Concerto, nor can it be doubted that the associations made by Schiff are very
detailed account of this is not, however, the purpose of the present study,
language of the Symphonic Fantastique; in both Carter and Berlioz, and all
nature of the musical style, its possibilities for relation and generation of
structural coherence, its flexibility, all these are given factors which may
interact in various ways with the external and essentially partial determinants
symmetrical:
background the two soloists, strings, and four percussionists surround the
winds with accelerating and decelerating patterns that alternately move
clockwise and counter-clockwise.
The introduction and Coda also form a fundamentally symmetrical
pair. The Introduction "breaks the silence" and gradually piles up two-
by-two, polyrhythmically, the ten speeds and associated tone colours and
musical intervals used in the entire work. The Coda begins with a crash
and then, like a large gong, dies away over many measures in wave-like
patterns, with many diverse tone-colours fading out and returning - each
time slightly different, each time with less energy - until the work
subsides to a quiet close.8
that the beginning of the Adagio marks, roughly, the half-way point in the
work. On the analogy of a universe first created and then 'un-created', one
might observe that civilisation 'peaks' rather late in the day (in the Adagio),
the more rapid succession of shorter sections in the latter part of the work. A
allowing the piano's two cadenzas to grow from that instrument's isolated
output in terms of their internal formal design are the Allegro scherzando and
usurps the role of a more traditionally conceived sectional form. The Adagio,
for all its breathtaking use of superimposition and of lines that move in space
lines. From b.654 to b.689 the large rhythmic pattern is repeated: the music
for these bars is a 'double' of the music of the previous cycle, reduced in
density and dynamic, but very closely based on the original bars.
136
movement, with sections assigned letters for reference. The basic idea of the
overlaps and anticipations which occur between both groups, and secondly by
the fact that the orchestras tend towards equality as the movement
progresses, although this is finally achieved only in the Adagio. Within the
types of material in the same way, and of course the music is subjected to
the movement is the tendency for each individual type of material to become
more clearly defined, leading to sections later in the movement based on one
type only. The technique here is somewhat different from that employed by
Carter in the two later works which feature 'collage' construction most
(1976), where distinct materials are never juxtaposed and combined in the
137
course of a section, as here, but form the bases of individual sections in their
pitch organisation in the work, I shall discuss passages which relate most
clearly to the chart. The most sustained example of these relationships in the
music occurstowards the end of the Presto movement, b.512-524, in one of the
types of structural articulation. Such usage occurs in the first part of the
Adagio (ex.6.9(a)), a passage which opens and closes with clearly articulated
This appears at various stages in the music, most notably in the Introduction
(b.39, and again at b.147-155) and just before the Conclusion (b.615), and also
near the end of the Allegro scherzando (b.326-328, piano). Carter has
I've tried to reenergize the tensions of the notes, the qualities of the
individual pitches as they are heard in contexts. In order to do this, I
have used the techniques I described. . . . the establishment of fixed or
'tonic 1 positions (pitch and octave locations) for each of the intervals
from which they migrate and to which they return or 'resolve', there
being secondary 'resolutions' when they return to the relationships with
each other first established, but transposed.H
approach to intervallic relations, were it not for the modest disclaimer which
follows:
stages of the work (as they would be, for example, in a completely determined
140
'frames' already described. This said, particular chords important in the Double
combinations of 'tonic' intervals are given the priority in the music suggested
by Carter in the second of the above quotations. Example 6.10 shows the
Example 6.11 presents derivations of smaller chords from the intervals of the
'tonic' configuration (here including the 'tonic' registral locations of i.c.l and
i.e.2, the first two intervals to be heard in the Double Concerto, which are
Concerto, and its interaction with the organisation of AITs and their various
b.11-39 in terms of both sets and linear relations. These bars expose the 'tonic'
intervals of the work and their associated speeds, building these up in a 'giant
polyrhythm', which reaches its climax with the near-coincidence of the pulses
structure, the music moves from the A-type AIT of b.ll to a statement of the
primarily of 'tonic' position intervals. There are three principal textures: piano
accompanied), and tutti (usually without the soloists, but including them at
complexity, whilst the tutti both articulates the twelve-note 'tonic' in b.38-39
and its precursor in b.23, and also prefigures the music of the Adagio's wind
^* ^ ^»
contoured lines in both horns: ^* * and » v /»^ ). Two further
predictions of Adagio material occur in these bars, in b.27 (viola) and b.30-35
(flute).
142
Given the sectional division of the music in these bars, the following
commentary will consider the passage in six distinct phases before considering
larger overall relationships: (1) b.11-23; (2) b.23-27; (3) b.27-29; (4) b.29-30;
(5) b.30-35; (6) b.35-39. The first phase presents an initial statement of an
A-type AIT, this forming a basis for AIT statements up to b.16, intervals from
this original chord forming AITs with new intervals subsequently stated.
Pitches and intervals retained in this way frequently pass between chordal
relationship is the same as that which generates the AIT composites used both
the vertical, 'harmonic' dimension, and the linear concerns of chord relation, a
kind of 'voice-leading'.
The music of the piano's first entry, b.16-17, is less obviously derived
line's second interval. Ex.6.13(b), (c) and (d) present AIT configurations
extracted from the texture of b.16: (b) in terms of relations to the intervals
which seem contextually the most prominent at this point, dvb and e/e *;
articulated at the beginning of the bar; (d) in terms of the registral disposition
of the pitches present. It will be seen that all pitches except fl participate in
Alls with one or other of the two principal intervals; that the superimposed
i.e. 6s of the second four-note group complete AITs with the intervals
and dVb* of the first; and that a single pitch, d^, disrupts the vertical
common.
pitches in the configuration form an AIT, whilst those which are non-tonic do
not. Of these latter pitches, a, d^, fl, b^, two are present in the harpsichord
ensemble's chord of b.14 (d^, fl; the first of these is itself retained from a
to complete both the twelve-note aggregate and perfect symmetry - this pitch
pitch retained from the piano's music, f-L Were it not for this shared pitch, the
subsets. As it is, its presence embeds a B-type AIT in the texture. The next
from, and then back to, an element in the texture, here the interval dVa X
Although the scale of this process is small in this instance, one might expect
to find such processes on a larger scale in Carter's music, in the light of some
of his statements quoted above. At the end of the bar, the harpsichord sustains
the pitches of the composite f5-28 (see (b) in ex.6.12). The pitches in flute and
145
horn at the start of b.18 are a clear reference to the AIT which instigated the
played by the piano which consists of two A-type AITs articulated in the
intervallic partitioning 3/6, the instruments doubling some of these pitches and
with the intervals of the piano's chord, are related in a mutually reciprocal
A-type AIT.
which 'clears' into a statement of the B-type AIT (11,10,8,4); the eight-note
chord is in fact a composite of two B-type AITs, and as such instigates the
four-note residual set follows immediately in the piano L.H.. The piano R.H.
presents the B-type AIT (2,3,5,9) not articulated in the chord on the last
146
quaver of b.19.
music of the same bar (I take the L.H. b*3 of the score, doubling b"3 1 in R.H.,
which follows adds the tritone dVor^ to the AIT on r"~ t forming the six-note
composite f6-z23.
tritones and minor thirds in ensemble I combine to form AITs and the larger
composite f6-z38, while the intervals in the piano's ensemble, although not
147
intervals are related in a linear sense in this way, both within and between the
pitches having originated in the texture of ensemble I's music. The a of the
i.e. 11 below g#-l then serves as the basis for the tritone a/e^ 1 in ensemble I,
e giving the d for ensemble IPs i.e. 9, f/d". Some of these pitches are
held into the first part of b.23, where they are incorporated into another
transpires that this is, in a sense, provisional, and preparatory to the fuller and
least some of the intervals falling on the scheme's pulses to make us aware of
Furthermore, the new interval class introduced here, i.e. 7 in it's 'tonic1
location f^/c-^, introduces the highest pitch heard up to this point, approached
process (see (a) in ex. 6. 12, in particular the abstracted associations of i.c.'s 10
qualities, the resonant i.e. 7 is the first pure consonance to appear as a bare
point (and playing an important role in the piano's music in the rest of the
149
extract under consideration here). Finally, the spacing, scoring and dynamic
level of the chord all contribute to the effect, not merely reinforcing a sense
of harmonic arrival but, as in much atonal music, actually helping to create it.
introduction, b.23-27, is largely taken up with a solo passage for the piano,
summarised in (g) on the third page of ex.6.12, the interval moving through an
association of i.e. 1 and 3. The latter interval class becomes associated with
(0,2,6) and their composite (0,2,5,8), colour much of the music of this phase.
from the chord of b.23 through a complex of symmetrical and linear relations
(d). Three elements of this set, (2,5,8), form a subset which is associated with
L -,
configuration at the start of b.25. The pitch d ^ is simultaneously a part of an
150
associative process of i.e.7 linking f^to the a^ * of the following bar, and the
starting point for a series of associations through i.e.2 which provide a lower
part to the piano ensemble's music. Meanwhile, this pitch becomes the upper
associations of its own in this register. On the third page of ex.6.12, (e) gives
f6-z49. Bars 25-26, still highly connected in terms of linear relations between
in which the lines played by the two horns, predicting the music of the Adagio,
are prominent. Ensemble I's line combines with the flute's tremolando
returns i.e.3 to its 'tonic' location, which is somewhat outside the main area of
registral activity in these bars. The boundary pitches in ensemble I in b.26 are
: the semi tonally adjacent interval a/d^ 2 j s the basis for ther following
151
section, phase 3, featuring the harpsichord. In b.27 and the first part of b.28
encompassed by the pitches a/d^ ^. Double bass and viola move outside this
register, the former reiterating its 'tonic' i.e. 3, G/B*7 , the latter colouring the
harpsichord's L.H. line, registered with 4' and 8' stops, with occasional upper
part as the sounding ones, regardless of added stops; of course, if the 4' or 16'
stops are used alone, then the transposition is taken into account). With the
trichord fbe the harpsichord abandons the fixed register scheme, the
upper e^ associating with the previous top-voice d^ 2 through i.e. 3. The lowest
part moves in parallel, with c^ reached after a brief move into a lower
register occupied by another i.c.3 (cr^Ve, b.29). Both lines then return
B-type AITs.
The fourth phase, returning to the piano and its ensemble, features i.e. 7
in much the same way as the second: ex.6.12(h) presents a reduction of the
process involving i.c.3, as before, and i.e. 4. The i.e. 7 d 2/a * 2 relates
152
(i)). The association of b^ 1/f 2 and d 2/a 2 , ascending through i.e. 4, reflects the
serving as the starting point for the symmetrical associations discussed above.
relations through the six phases of the introduction being considered here. The
prominent c-frl, the lowest pitch in the texture for the first part of b.29, is
ex. 6. 12. The interval f/e, introduced by the cello in b.29, strengthens its
b.17 and 21 having been made in close proximity to the 'tonic1 e/d~-. I.e. 5
The fifth phase, overlapping with the fourth, opens with a presentation
This sustained texture prepares for another anticipation of the music of the
Adagio, in flute (b. 31-32): its line embeds an A-type AIT in a linear statement
the i.e. 6 in the flute part combining with the instances of i.e. 3 which form the
basis of the combined line of viola and double bass. This line itself forms the
AIT composite f6-z26. Two new elements of the twelve-note 'tonic1 are
introduced in this section: the lowest interval, Aj/G in the double bass, and a
pitch from the tonic registral location of i.e. 4 creates a top-voice structure,
ultimately extending over b. 18-36, which outlines the A-type AIT formed by
Phase six introduces the last two intervals of the twelve-note 'tonic',
i.e. 9 in its primary registral location, G/e, and i.c.4, c/f*-. j>c> 9 nacj
appeared as early as b.16 in association with its characteristic pulse speed, but
never yet in its 'tonic' position; the lowest element of the 'tonic' i.c.4, cP, was
prefigured in phase five. The sixth phase continues by bringing together all the
154
other intervals in their 'tonic' registers for the tutti of b.39. The 'tonic 1 i.e.7,
the culmination of the pitch tendencies of the music up to this point, the
polyrhythmic structure, out of phase with the pitch progression, pulls the
music forward to a second climax at the coincidences which occur in b.45 and
b.46. The pitches at this point have moved well beyond the bounds of the
The way in which AIT relationships permeate the music of these bars on
a small scale has already been suggested; that is, through a generative
harmonic process stemming from the chord of b.ll, forming pitch and interval
'chains' which generally articulate the 5- and 6-note AIT composite sets. In
155
lines articulating AIT and larger, related sets. Ex.6.14 attempts to clarify this
structure, and also to demonstrate the pitch and interval relationships which
operate between phases, both in relating music played by the two distinct
across the music which separates them. Within the context of AIT and other
that the three are mutually interdependent, the presentation of interval lines
in the metrical scheme, the 'giant polyrhythm1 , plays an important role, both in
associating particular intervals, 'tonic 1 or not, with the larger harmonic and
Ex.6.15 follows the appearances of members of two interval classes, 9 and 11,
through the texture to b.22: adjacent intervals of each class form different
structural association of pitch and rhythm allows, for example, the pitch f 2 of
b.18 to be heard as 'prolonged' into the chord at b.23 (ex.6.14); more obviously,
156
a distinction, if only a provisional one, between the musical surface and deeper
structural levels.
the particular intervals which formed the basis for the texture at this point.
interval class of b.103-106 is i.c.l, and the reduction demonstrates how, within
a more active and 'figurational' texture, this interval, its linear projection in
of the i.e. in question. The seguential association of AITs between the last
part of b.103 and b.104 establishes a 'mode of progression' for i.c.l, in this
association of i.e.2. To look ahead, this i.e. relates the prominent intervallic
statements of b.105 and b.106 (in the lowest register), here, however, as a
157
intervals (G/A*0 , C#/D, E/F) together form the AIT composite f6-z!3. The
The upper pair of (0,1,6) trichords are registrally equivalent, and are related
of the previous AIT appearances. Individual lines extracted from the texture
case of the lowest part, articulate an intervallic partitioning of one of the AIT
composite hexachords. The lines mostly converge on the dyad e/f of b.106
(this interval being presented in three octave registers, which becomes five
158
taking into account the 41 and 16' stops in use at this point). I.e.3 is an
apparent d/f in the first. In addition, it is the associative interval class which
lowest part. I.e.3 is the principal interval class exploited in the following
section of the cadenza. Two elements of the texture do not 'resolve' into the
particular dyad at a lower octave in b.106, and the pitch c which appears
towards the close of b.105. This and its associated B might be thought of as
instruments articulating both an A-type AIT and the AIT composite f6-16, at
the same time prefiguring the intervallic theme presented by the piano in A2
its first appearance, 2-9-4: this is followed by two permutations, 4-9-2 and
the first two statements (2-9-4 and 4-9-2), combine to form a twelve-note
not particularly linked to AITs or their composites, although the four lowest
pitches of the entire twelve-note configuration form an A-type AIT. The third
which thus contains no AIT subsets. The first two intervals combine with the
piano, the lines of which draw on characteristic intervals of ensemble II. The
160
section starts with pitches retained from the last configuration of A2, moving
away from these through associations involving i.c.'s 4 and 7. The pitches
g-ft 1/c » b.159-60, combine with the statements of i.e.4 in the presentations of
6-5-2-0, over bars 158-60. This type of linear relation continues to involve
as indicated in the reduction in the lower part of the example. Within A3, AITs
and six-note composites are also important, notably f6-z!3 in the instrumental
parts as a sustained harmony, and f6-z50 in the piano's music at the end of
b.191. Both of these involve the retained pitches which are prominent at this
point, the upper part's d^ 2/e# ^(\n both sets) and q&^te-zSQ), and the lower
part's b^(f6-zl3).
introduction: the characteristic melodic shape appears in the oboe, its highest
pitch reinforcing the structural g^2 attained in the previous bar. Once again,
subset sustained from the previously stated f6-z!3, and the way in which two
of the pitches in the second set are retained in the following f6-z48. Individual
AITs appear in the texture, linking the first three pitches of the oboe's line to
the upper-part d ancj Unking the upper interval in the wind instruments'
music of b.163 with the piano's entry on e^ Vg^ in the same bar, initiating
The lowest of these, b^ , becomes the basis for a regular structure in i.e. 7,
b^ -fl-c 2 -g2-d^, further subdivided into i.e. 3 and A and elaborated by the
the i.e. 7 structure through a direct semitonal association, and to the highest
D b 2/d b3 (10-1) itself forming part of another AIT in b.165. The pitch d 3 is
retained from the 'tonic' i.e. 4 of b.158, d/f, regaining the register
presented at the beginning of the section but largely abandoned since then.
contrast - texture, tessitura, speed and dynamic (in addition to tone colour)
are all changed. Example 6.18 offers a reduction in terms of presented pitch
framework in ensemble II's next section, B (b. 169-171), extended into a higher
register with the addition of a^, and emphasised by its presentation in a line of
tempo and interval, as the pulse tempo this line produces (m.m.74) is an
m.m.25(i.c.2, ensemble II), making it clear that, here at least, the scheme
determinant. Once again, AITs and their composites can be found in the
texture, although they are less prominent than in section A. The AIT (9,10,1,3),
163
of the last AIT of section A - the last bar of A and the first of B are also
linked by the retention of the pitches c^/d^, connecting the two sections in a
relations to the 'grid 1 of i.e. 7 and the derived dyad 9-1 (i.e. 4), which appears in
Ensemble I's[b Jsection overlaps with B, the double bass's F]_ of b.170
arising in the register of the lowest pitch of [a], from which it is derived
L
through a semitonal association, and its next pitch, E , participating in a
parallel association of i.e. 2 with ensemble I's upper part. This generates c*
from the upper d^ of [a]. After a complex of local associations producing the
figurations of b.171, the AIT composite f5-19 is stated. This forms the basis
for the following section, C (piano ensemble, b. 173-85), the longest section so
164
far, and the most complex in terms of internal structuring and variety of
two overlapping, registrally equivalent forms of an A-type AIT. The two i.c.T's
important in the piano part of the following section. In addition, the upper
the instrumental parts at the start of b.176, i.e. 4 providing a new upper pitch,
equivalent forms of AIT A and ultimately involving both the piano and its
the harpsichord and its ensemble, is somewhat difficult to explain. One might
relate the lowest pitch, E, to the registral area already exploited by ensemble
I's double bass; possible, too, is a justification of the chords three uppermost
relationships in the piano part, after which the texture develops a more
closing gesture in the piano part (b.182) projects an A-type AIT in a registral
disposition which emphasises the upper register i.e.4, a reference to the music
partitioning as that at the end of the piano's music in the previous bar (in
Two AIT composites are also present, in a texture of some complexity - linear
retained from the AIT configurations of the previous bar. This chord can be
f6-z49. In the last part of b.185, (0,1,5) trichords colour the music locally.
7. The extent to which Cone's analysis can be said to have more than empirical
of his terms stratification, interlock and synthesis, let alone the possibility of
The Concerto for Orchestra is Carter's richest and most complex work
their realisation in the textures of the work is beyond the scope of the present
study; indeed, it may be doubted that such a project is at all feasible, given
the size of the work, the density of the orchestral writing, the richness of the
composition, and the limitations of analysis at the present time. The Concerto
the earlier orchestral works of his maturity, the Variations for Orchestra,
body into three distinct smaller groups. Whilst the later work still retains the
sense of consistency within the medium of the orchestra (avoiding the overt
from the Double Concerto (1961). The only work composed in the interim, the
Piano Concerto (1964/65), may be considered to bridge the gap between the
seen, the Concerto for Orchestra might be thought to have more in common
with the intervallic techniques of the Second Quartet and Double Concerto
compositional units, the 'primitives' upon which lines, harmonies and textures
relationships both between and within the two ensembles are governed by the
groups, and lines on a larger scale. In the Piano Concerto, two twelve-note
chords, one for the orchestra, the other for the piano and its "concertino",
170
provide "tonic" locations for the basic elements of the musical structure, as
did the twelve-note chord of the Double Concerto. Here, though, instead of
and their constituent triads and intervals in the Piano Concerto-1. The chart
presents principal and subsidiary registers and spacings for each trichord and
interval, and assigns to each one, two or three tempi. Furthermore, each
dynamic and textural elaboration: "Each triad has its associated character,
and hence its own kind of continuity. Triad III, for instance, is constantly
superimposed on itself in a way which leads to the large tone clusters in the
strings, which become thicker and more frequent as the work proceeds."^. This
whilst the twelve-note chords comprise the 'tonic1 locations for individual
trichords, they are not referential in the sense of that of the Double Concerto,
in that they are not recurring elements of the texture. Each trichord is
away from, and then back to, statements of c3-7 in its primary register and
process, and ex.7.2(b) presents the orchestra's first entry, with c3-8 in b. 18-22.
Here the interval in common between the concertino's trichord c3-7 and the
produces the "tonic" statement. Full statements of the two twelve-note chords
are withheld until the end of the first movement, establishing a 'resolved state'
for the trichords before movement II, starting from these chords, moves
The reduction of ex.7.3 shows how the twelve-note chord in the concertino
arises from its immediate surroundings, and how this process relates to the
following the processes which form the twelve-note 'tonic' of the piano and
arrival at this point. Against the orchestra's music, the concertino produces its
i.c.l. This produces statements of c3-5 within each system, and multiple
statements of c3-7 through the association of the two systems. The flute's
the highest pitch of the configuration, and associates the three trichords in
play (c3-5, 7 and 10) through their common interval, i.e.5. The other element
of this linear statement of c3-10, i.e.3, forms the basis for an association
involving c3-5, transposed up through this interval in b.340, over the dyad g-
c^, an element of the i.e.5 systems of b.339. This dyad is followed by a-d#l,
which, with the previously stated dyad, both presents a spatially appropriate
173
semi tonal association (b^-c^) and by one involving i.e. 3 (b^l of b.339 to d ^ In
b.340, parallel with the association of the two instances of c3-5 associated by
i.e. 3). Similarly, the a^on which the timpani enters is associated through i.e. 3
with the concertino cello's g, and the intervening a, in addition to its role in
b.342. These enclose music which firstly takes over the associative interval
i.e. 3 from b.339-340 in timpani, then, with the appearance of the 'tonic's'
174
feature of the lower part of the orchestra's 'tonic' chord, and this bar stresses
based on i.e. 5 in b. 339-40. The lower element, a^, of the "tonic's" highest
interval, a-f*, can be related to the last of the i.e. 5 structures of b.340 by
i.e. 5 and 6. This chord is a starting point for a series of associations in which
the highest interval of the chord; the lowest pitches arise from an inversion of
this i.e. 10 association, generating Aj from the low G of b.342. F arises from a
and c*^, this latter pitch itself arising from both a semitonal association of
175
i.c.5 (c^-wg-c), producing the 'tonic 1 locations for c3-7 familiar from the
that these 'spatial sets' are less evident in the Concerto for Orchestra, where
repertoires of 3, 4, 5, and 7-note sets for the individual movement types in the
that generate the larger sets in their characteristic spacings. In the passages
larger sets where the intervals concerned are generating lines, chords and
textures.
Carter's choices of sets for the individual movements of the Concerto for
repertoires in terms of interval vector^. The totals of these vectors for each
highest count for each interval class occurs in the repertoire of a movement
classes in this context are considered equivalent under inversion, i.e. interval
class 2 = i.e. 10, i.c.3 = i.e. 9, etc.), and that the three maxima for each
movement (with the sole exception of movement Ill's i.e.5) present the three
interval classes associated with that movement. (Movement IV's total for i.e.6
appears low, but this is due to that interval class's unique self-complementary
compare the total with those of other interval classes, it should be doubled).
While sets from one movement's repertoire could be (and sometimes are)
material.
Piano Concerto and the Concerto for Orchestra, suggesting that the detailed
work, whilst the small-scale freedoms of the later concerto find their
the Piano Concerto is perhaps even anti-formal in its conception, with small
the rapid interplay of soloist, concertino and orchestra projecting the volatile
the notion of form arising as a large process from the interaction of the
smallest elements of the texture is applied in a more directed way. The single
textures, becoming louder and more animated at the climax before the piano,
in a quiet and meditative coda, has the last word. In both movements of the
Piano Concerto, but particularly the second, the influence of the European
178
The overall formal plan of the Concerto for Orchestra, on the other
Carter in the coda of the Double Concerto (see Chapter 6), here expanded to
cover the entire duration of the work, some twenty-five minutes. This
four movement-types of the work, and the placing of the five tutti passages
which form the textural climaxes of the concerto (ex.7.6). On this large scale
what it is: apart from the difficulties encountered in comparing and assessing
durations of more than c.12 seconds^, the spans between the beats of the
polyrhythm are not empty, but are filled with music whose various (and
duration, this after all being a central concern of Carter's in his music from
the late 1940s. Moreover, entrances of material from the various movement-
types are not confined to the principal beats of the polyrhythm: the scheme is
Double Concerto's Allegro scherzando and the contrasts of the first movement
The music . . . has four main characters, and, while hints of all four
are being referred to constantly, the Concerto picks out one facet after
another to dwell on at some length, subordinating the others. Thus, while
there can be said to be four main movements, these are almost
constantly heard in combination.°
by Carter but played down at the expense of the less traditional formal ideas
for most of this information incorporated by Carter into his own chart of the
vision of an America swept by the winds of spiritual progress and renewal. The
following lines are quoted by Carter in the score of the Concerto for
And having exposed to the air the attrition and drought in the hearts
of men in office,
Behold, they produce this taste of straw and spices, in all the
squares of our cities . . .
* * * *
For a whole century was rustling in the dry sound of its straw, amid
strange desinences at the tips of husks of pods, at the tips of trembling
things . .
(from Canto
of the "dry sound of straw" and the rattling of seed-pods reminds us of his
substantial experience with ballet: however, neither this nor the equally vivid
poetic epic of America, should persuade us into considering Carter in any way
181
connection with the structure or sequence of the poems which 'inspired' them.
Carter may indeed use non-musical art forms as a source for appropriate
images, even sometimes for formal procedures (the 'circular1 Scheme of both
the Cello Sonata and the First String Quartet being suggested by Finnegan's
Wake and by Cocteau's film Le Sang d'un Poete - this circularity is also an
element of the plan of the Concerto for Orchestra), just as the music of other
composers may suggest formal and technical procedures and even provide
material for elaboration (for example, in the Cello Sonata, whose cyclic theme
recalls that of Ives1 Concord Sonata, and in the Ives and Nancarrow quotations
in the First String Quartet). In all of these cases, the 'objet/idee trouve', if it
movement', and 'finale'; while this view of the work is clearly limited, it does
complexity, and also suggests a relation to a genre in the same way that the
Debussy's.10
introduction and a somewhat more extended coda. In their formal outlines, the
formal principles. I and III rely on the contrast of numerous short sections to
the movement into short sections on the basis of texture and instrumentation.
From this outline it is clear that a large formal idea is at work, making the
second part of the movement (b.60-141) an enlarged 'double' of the first (b.16-
59), at least in terms of the types of material presented. This recalls the
similar procedure of the Double Concerto's coda, although in the Concerto for
Orchestra the variation is less rigidly dependent on the model, expanding the
'projection' in the second part of the work. The formal outline derives from the
indeed, the first movement constitutes the closest association between the
more prolific elaboration, and ultimately moves 'out of phase' with the music's
introduction. This tempo is regained at b.47, persisting until b.60. The piano
solo at this point recalls strongly that of b.24-28, and the metrical modulation,
related to that of the earlier solo (where the metrical unit divided into seven
of this movement are all carried by the piano part, which establishes a
colour^.
In his chart of materials for the Concerto for Orchestra, Carter defines
ritardando: grows slower from beginning to end of work" (see ex.7.4). While
aurally. A maximum of textural density and dynamic occurs near the beginning
(melodic) elements is rigidly maintained for most of the movement, the former
solo and tutti lines and counterpoints which give the movement its rhetorical
character (stemming, perhaps, from St. John Perse's lines "Let the Poet speak,
186
and let him guide the judgement!"!^). The introductory passage (b.287-299) and
movement II, as it marks the centre point of the entire work, the point at
compare the statements of both movements' material before (IV, b.307; II,
b.337) and after (IV, b.368; II, b.386) these bars. A similar passage in which
opposing characteristics meet and are 'neutralised 1 occurs in the Variations for
Orchestra, where the tempo tendencies of the two 'ritornello' themes, meeting
and cancelling in variation 5, form the model for Carter's treatment of the
starting point and goal for a scheme of metrical modulations; here, this
scheme seems to be less strongly linked to the formal plan of the movement.
property of a formal organisation in cycles (see ex. 7.10). In IV, the cycles have
large-scale acceleration, with each cycle in turn starting from a faster point.
textural climaxes are reserved for the ends of the cycles (e.g. b.434-35, b.465,
and b.506-7, the last of these, closing cycle 7, a 24-note chord constructed
The tutti passage from which movement IV emerges (b.420) does not
the case with the transitions I/II and II/III. From this point onwards, in fact,
the 'surface1 division of the work's major sections is out of phase with the
only in the course of cycle 5 of IV (b.488f.). Insofar as one can sectionalise the
work in these terms, the coda opens in b.518 not with a tutti but with a
the final coincidence of the giant polyrhythm. The emergence of the piano and
wood percussion sounds from this passage associates this point with the start
188
of the first principal movement, which appears in a similar fashion from the
The variety and scope of the compositional practice in the Concerto for
Orchestra, in the domain of pitch alone, are voluminous. In this work more
than any other by Carter (and perhaps by anyone else) we are justified in
the surface aspects of the music can be conveniently related; rather, the lines,
chords and intervals are manipulated in a large number of ways to produce the
textures of the concerto. The following pages will present what must remain
for Orchestra, considered also in the light of the primacy of intervals and the
harp and marimba are lightly doubled in woodwind, brass and string parts as
169
continues a process from the previous bars and is not directly concerned with
the passage in question. These pitches are identified in ex.7.11 by stems with
left-pointing arrows.
b.16-17) presented by the piano's rapid figurations, the second (b.23) a more
function, and as the tendency for sets in the texture to combine to form
twelve-note groups. Both usages are apparent in the Concerto for Orchestra.
pitches in the three-note, four-note and larger sets articulated by the lines.
So, for example, c3-ll as a three-note line segment, usually occurs with the
BIP 9-8 or 11-8, although other spacings occur 1 ^. Neither of these BIPs occurs
190
in Carter's chart of the concerto's materials; the vertical spacing of the set
form of the set) is notably absent. Other spacings may continue to reflect the
primary intervals in their overall range (e.g. the BIP 3-8, where the 'compound'
interval of the set's presentation is i.e.11) or not (e.g. the BIP 9-4 + , in the
five, and seven pitches, although this is by no means always the case. In
addition, the sets articulated in this way are generally not presented in their
primary spacings. These larger sets arise from the association of intervals, in
the first instance, and of the four-note sets produced by this generative
association of interval pairs, not all are members of the assigned set
larger sets. 1 ^ Such, for example, is the presentation of c4-14 in the string
in appropriate subsets. See, for example, the segmentation of c5-10 into four
pitch-class g). Likewise in the combination of harp and piano parts in both b.20
and b.21, in each case producing c7-21 with c5-21 as a subset. The most
b.22-23, where c7-21 (4,5,1,0,9) at the end of b.22 and c5-21 (5,4,1,0,9) at the
beginning of b.23 combine to form the twelve-note aggregate, the first c7-21
also including c5-21 as a chordal subset (2,3,6,7,10), the c5-21 of b.23 itself
incorporated into a new c7-21 as the bar proceeds, with the addition in the
'punctuates1 the texture in b.23, setting apart the previous interplay of piano,
harp and marimba from the more extended piano solo which follows. The chord
a line doubled in i.c.ll itself. All but one of the consecutive pairings of
elements from the two lines (the exception being b+d) produce appropriate
constitution, they appear to have little in common also, although the three
from a more linear association of intervals and trichords, does not function in
this way.
mobile figuration in the piano part and more sustained set statements in
so formed is the fact that only the last one, c5-10, is presented in its primary
spacing as defined by Carter (see ex.7.4). The chord's wide spacing, using
associating the chord with the two framing twelve-note complexes, its full
doubling in the other instrumental parts, and its segmentation by the harp into
appropriate trichords, combine to make this chord appear, in a sense, the 'goal'
194
of the passage.
i.e. 5, linking the first, second, fourth and fifth chords. I.e. 3 is involved in a
strong inner-part process which connects all but the registrally displaced fifth
although both appear in 'close' positions of movement I's trichords. Neither are
passage.
in this sequence of chords. The 'compound' i.e. 3 (3 +) f^-a-' has already been
also linking a previous chord to the passage's climactic c5-10 (E-g). In fact, if
the two penultimate chords are combined, five of their pitches, including the
This symmetry has important consequences for the succession, as other pitches
particular f and g (fourth and fifth chords' registral extremes) and the
lowest register's process in i.e. 5, d*l -a^- f, mirrored in the upper parts of
the third and fourth chords (b 1 - d^2 - g^2 ). Ex.7.14(d) presents the
Further symmetrical associations, with i.e. 4 prominent, connect the last two
the association g-f linking the upper parts of the first two chords
predicting two subsequent associations, g/^-a-^ and f-E, which arise from the
Ex.7.15(a) also includes the chords played by piano, marimba and strings in
b. 22/23, between the harp's c5-20 and the second of the twelve-note chords.
The most striking aspects of the passage considered here are the large-scale
196
associations in the highest and lowest registers. In the latter, the pitch-class e
highest register links the two twelve-note chords and b.22's c5-10 through a
forming i.e.11 (ex.7.15(b)). In fact, the upper three pitches of the twelve-note
twelve-note chord: the presentation of c5-10 does not share this feature.
Ex.7.15(c) relates the c5-10 of b.22 to the first five-note element of the
pitch (b 2) which also appears in the other instruments' chords of b.22/23, and
identify the overall metrical pulse for ease of reference). Various aspects of
retained common pitches features in b.34: essentially these bars expose some
of the subsets of firstly c5-23 (2,1,11,9,6) and then c5-37 (2,3,6,8,10), these
two sets related through their common interval d^-f 3. Bars 44 (third J ) to 45
throughout the work. Firstly, two lines, one doubled at i.e.7, the other in
types over the first three-quarters of the bar: (a), c7-25; (b), c7-28; (c), c7-37;
(d), c7-4; (e) c7-25; (f); c7-4. These bars express a particular relation between
these sets, each of which can be partitioned into three elements, i.e.7 and 10,
each chord. This is of course true of the five-note chords of b.44-45 also, the
elements in the partitioning here simply i.e.7 and c3-5. Bars 46-49 present a
Within these bars, however, there are chords expressing sets which are
not appropriate to movement II. Their place in the texture must be explained
pitches in the more rapid quintuplet figuration, and thus can be considered as a
i.e.7. c5-13 in b.46 and c5-31 in b.58 are clearly related to the five-note sets
when the upper line of the texture moves to a new trichord in the following
beat. c3-5 in b.46 restates, as its upper interval, the dyad g^-d^, previously
sustained in b.43, the upper pitch of which is the highest between b.43 and the
first half of b.46. To assess the potential significance of this, we must consider
of which the music regains in b.38 the f^ of b.15. the process in i.e.2 through
199
process in the lowest register, c^-d^-e^), linking the fragments of b.30 and
b.38. Hereafter, the uppermost part carries the structural line of associations,
the lower pitches in b.45 arising in the texture from the denser writing for
strings and from the local associations not shown in ex. 7. 17. The upper line of
b.45, a-b-b, present in the rapid texture as the upper pitch of the first
chord of each quintuplet group, is doubled in the upper part of the sustained
a ^-e Vg^-d^, b.42-43, governs the i.e. 2 associations of the following bars,
with d in particular serving as a source and focus for many such associations.
Ex. 7. 18 and 7.19 present set content and associations respectively for
b. 142-151, the first bars of movement II's principal appearance. One encounters
identified in ex. 7. 18 with asterisks, and various other aspects of Carter's set
changing one pitch at a time, producing a chain of five-note chords each pair
of the pitches e 5 and f*^, the registral boundaries of all the chords up to b.147.
have been examined. While these often present the essence of Carter's
necessary to consider also those passages in which the overall effect of the
material. For Carter, as for his German namesake Wagner-*-*, music is an art
Our attention now turns to those parts of the Concerto for Orchestra in which
201
form the basis of the material of the four movement-types of the work. In b.9,
the chord changes: the new chord is also a twelve-note chord, largely
pitch),
changes ever more rapidly to the beginning of b.12, each new chord (with the
exception of the fifth, b.10 o_J , which has only ten pitches) a twelve-note
mobile, tracing broadly sweeping paths through the entire range of the
notated metre to move at different rates. The highest and lowest streams of
the course of these bars. Music from II reaches a low-point of P2» associated
through a semitone with the E2 °f the line from III at the beginning of b.12,
while III ascends through c^ (the upper pitch of II's second chord in b.12) and
from movement IV, linking its trichords largely through retained pitches and
regained its initial lower pitch E*^ at the beginning of b.14, moves in a less
from movement II also slows over the course of this passage, yet moves much
Pitches from each of these three strands in the texture are incorporated into
the music of the dominant movement I: c 2 (III, b.16) is a pitch in the piano's
music of that bar (although not particularly prominent); e^g^2 (II, b.16)
appear more obviously in the marimba, combining with d^2 (e"92 , IV, b.16), to
in the piano. Material from II, III and IV is thus 'absorbed' into the music of the
fragmentary appearances in the first fifty bars of I. The overall upper register
in the music (i.e. 2), and provides a pitch (f^) which is ultimately re-attained at
and II (b.134-142). In the bars immediately preceding this extract (b.H5ff.) the
from movement-types II, III and IV appearing, while music proper to I itself has
204
the most striking aspect of the passage in question is the way in which the
b. 133-139; three five-note chords from the repertoire of I are stated in their
reference to the piano's more rapid figuration. These chords (c5-21, c5-27,
c5-8) and their linear interrelationships are displayed in the lower part of the
example: with the addition of two pitches, the last of these (c5-8, b.138)
becomes c7-21. These two pitches, d/b, regain the register of the violins'
i.e. 4. The association of the lower trichords of c5-21 and c5-27 through i.e. 2
Certainly, the way in which the process in i.e. 2 over b. 134-36 (c^^-e*3 2-f2) j s
accounts for much of the sense of cogency and directed motion of this
passage. Also notable is the rhythmic diminution: the second process occurs
205
towards the climactic cl-21 of b.138, even though there is no actual reduction
b.12-14: in fact, this point marks the first near-coincidence of the concerto's
'giant polyrhythm'. Throughout b.140 and the first part of b.lAl, the
the repertoire of movement I: c3-l, c3-9, c3-ll. Following this in b.141, the
repertoires, once again reflecting the primary registral location of each of the
following bar the starting point for movement IPs main appearance.
the tenth 'cycle' of movement II and the commencement of the tutti transition
(III, b.270; I, b.277; IV, b.278), but growing into more continuous statements as
we have seen, it is used extensively in all four movements of the Concerto for
similar, rather than contrasted units. In cycle 10 of II, these units are very
texture had done in the first. It should also be noted that that in the overall
c3-8 coalesce into a more sustained line. All these statements participate in a
association: these are also the vertical interval classes present in the primary
spacing of this particular trichord (ex. 7. 23(3), lower stave, showing the
208
b.283. This starts at a markedly faster speed than the immediately preceding
hypothetical 'cycle II 1 . The ascent of this line of four- and three-note chords
incorporates two pitches from cycle 10's fragment (x), a*5 -Vc^, in b.284,
absorbing them in a more rapid figuration which slows in the following bars'
less ordered than those of the Introduction and b. 140-41. Rather than
more spread, and less mutually dependent. The instruments of movement I play
ex. 7. 23(4). In addition, pitches from the other movement-types' strands are
incorporated into the instrumental parts of movement I's texture at this point,
Chapter 8; Conclusion
operations which change order and direction and his (only apparent) relegation
terms of precise pitch identity) is the basis of all musical relationship: its
His music evolves 'in time', using this characteristic perhaps more deliberately
of these reflect evident concerns with the music of other composers (the 'long
it is notable that since the early 1950s the development of style and technique
in Carter's music has taken place from within, with very little of importance
that can be described in terms of the external influence of the work of other
composers. Thus the notion of 'process1 becomes applicable not only to the
discussions of
conceived with particular reference to Carter's music, the brief
procedures
music by Schoenberg, Varese and Boulez demonstrate that these
ers' guide to
are amenable to generalisation: they form the basis of a 'listen
matic
atonal music 1 which, while by no means ignoring the possibly syste
n, searches
elements of compositional practice in the music under examinatio
tion. This
for structure in the very acts of perception and mental representa
al space,
view of structure reasserts the absolute in its definition of music
horizontal and
however tentatively, as a basis for the relative equivalence of
ently
evolution in time of emotions, actions, consequences) are inher
ral language
irreversible: 'up' and 'down' take on opposed meanings in the gestu
Notes to Chapter j^
Elliott
1. Collected, with a wide selection of other material, in The Writings of
1961)
6. Lectures of this sort form the basis of Copland's first book, What to Listen
For in Music (New York, 1939). See E.T. Cone, 'Conversation with Aaron
;
7. R, Sessions, 'Heinrich Schenker's Contribution', in Roger Sessions on Music
(unpublished; 1946).
10. D. Martino, 'The Source Set and its Aggregate Formations', JMT 5/ii
(1961), p.224-273).
11. D. Schiff, 'In Sleep, In Thunder: Elliott Carter's Portrait of Robert Lowell',
Notes to Chapter 2
1. A.Edwards, Flawed Words and Stubborn Sounds (New York, 1971) [FW], p.6.1,
3. Writings p.270.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
7. Writings p.343.
9. Writings p.333.
10. FW p.40.
11. FWp.41.
12. FW p.45. One of these settings of Joyce is appaently still extant: "a setting
of Joyce in 5/8 time submitted to New Music Edition . . . and neither published
216
nor returned until a few years ago when Henry Cowell turned it up among his
13. FW p.61.
14. FW p.44.
15. Ibid.
16. FWp.45.
17. FW p.60.
18. FW p.61.
19. FWp.47.
20. FW p.46.
22. C.J. Oja, 'The Copland-Sessions Concerts and Their Reception in the
24. FWp.64.
217
25. FWp.47.
27. FW p.49.
28. FWp.56.
29. See, for example, 'The Case of Mr. Ives1 (1938), Writings p.48; 'Ives Today:
His Vision and Challenge 1 (1944), Writings p.98; 'An American Destiny' (1946),
Notes to Chapter 3
1. "The First Quartet was 'written largely for my own satisfaction and grew
neighbor during the 1950-51 year of this quartet) wrote of his book The
2. FW p.69.
3. FWp.74.
4. C. McPhee, Music in Bati (Yale, 1966). Carter read the manuscript of this
extended study, which was published shortly after McPhee's death. See FW
p.41.
5. See R. Brandel, The Music of Central Africa (The Hague, 1961), p.152, 157,
7. FW p.91-92n.
11. Ibid..
12. 'The Time Dimension in Music 1 , Writings p.243; 'Music and the Time
16. MECp.138.
Notes to Chapter 4
PNM 1/ii (1963), p.72-82; 'A Theory of Set-complexes for Music', JMT 8/ii
(1964), p.136-183; 'Sets and Nonsets in Schoenberg's Atonal Music 1 PNM 11/i
2. See, for example, J. Baker, 'Coherence in Webern's Six Pieces for Orchestra
(1974), p.170-190.
p.219-229.
6. Ibid., p.90.
7. Ibid..
8. Ibid., p.91.
9. Ibid..
(1982), p.1-27.
(1981), p.127-168.
(New York, 1955); R.Travis, 'Towards a New Concept of Tonality', JMT 3/ii
17. W. Benjamin, 'Erwartung and the Drawers of the Mind: Expectations and
Duration and Motion', JMT 25/ii (1981), p.183-216; 'Segmentation and Process
Leonard B. Meyer.
28. M.M. Hyde, 'A Theory of Twelve-Tone Metre', Music Theory Spectrum 6
(1984), p.14-51.
Mass., 1979), p.2of b.18 are a clear reference to the AIT which instigated thOl.
32. A. Whittall, 'Webern and Atonality: The path from the old aesthetic 1 , MT
33. See G. Perle, Serial Composition and Atonality (5/Los Angeles, 1981),
p.26-27.
38. See J. Sloboda, The Musical Mind; The Cognitive Psychology of Music
Image, Music, Text (essays selected and translated by S. Heath: London, 1977)
40. See R. Barthes, 5/Z (Paris, 1970: trans. R. Miller, New York, 1974), for an
41. R. Barthes, 'The Death of the Author' in Image, Music, Text, p.146.
42. See also the analyses by M. Wilkinson, in 'An Introduction to the Music of
Edgard Varese', The Score 19/v (March 1957), p.5-14, and J.-J. Nattiez,
'Varese's "Density 21.5": A Study in Semiological Analysis', Music Analysis 1/iii
(1982), p.243-340.
44. L. Koblyakov, 'P. Boulez "Le Marteau sans Mattre": Analysis of Pitch
Notes to Chapter 3
1. MEG p.191.
consequence of a set's interval vector; the chords thus derived can be, and
intervallic derivation.
3. FWp.104.
4. FW p.101.
quartets. The sleeve illustration includes a photograph of the first page of Ives'
manuscript of the Second Quartet, in which the annotations are quite clear.
7. Writings p.278.
8. Ibid.
exhibited by these themes, Schiff suggests that they embody the principal
tempo relationships of the work. This seems true only up to a point - relative
226
to themselves the durations in the composite themes produce a line with the
10. A problem exists in these cases as to which metrical unit to take as the
notated metrical pulse. I have consistently used the latter, for two principal
strong sense in which one might claim that notated pulse and metre are
ametrical in a larger sense. Secondly, and arising from this, at many points
the metre, and one faces the difficulty, if using the small pulse as a standard,
11. See J. Bernard, 'Spatial Sets in Recent Music of Elliott Carter', Music
Notes to Chapter 6
1. Writings p.326.
instrumentation.
3. This notion is new in music only in the extent to which Carter coordinates
the referential and relational aspects of such a chord. One can draw parallels
between Carter's practice and that of certain earlier composers, notably Berg
tonic" (MEC p.211) - the part of the total group of 'tonic 1 intervals used in this
way contains only twelve distinct pitches, and does not yield an all-interval
4. Writings p.328-29.
speed, m.m.28.
:28
8. Writings p.328-329.
9. This type of construction was perhaps suggested by E.T. Cone's lectures and
See Writings p.303, and E.T. Cone, 'Stravinsky: The Progress of a Method 1 ,
10. B. Boretz, 'Conversation with Elliott Carter', PNM 8/ii (1970), p.8.
12. Ibid..
229
Notes to Chapter 7.
1. Writings p.298.
2. Writings p.299.
content of a set (in this context inversionally equivalent interval classes are
considered equivalent. For example, i.e. 2 and i.e.10 are both instances of
i.e.2). The vector is arrived at through a simple enumeration of all the possible
dyad subsets of the set, so, for example, given a three-note set (a,b,c), the
interval classes represented in the IV are given by /a-b/, /a-c/, /b-c/. The six
respectively. See A. Forte, The Structure of Atonal Music (New Haven, 1973),
p.13-24.
festival.
8. Writings p.337.
9. Concerto for Orchestra, Full Score, p.in. Extract from St. John Perse,
10. David Schiff has drawn attention to the relationship of the Concerto for
11. The piano writing is also a tribute to the abilities of the New York
Philharmonic Orchestra's pianist, the late Paul Jacobs. See MEC p.247.
considered as a four-note set (where they are associated through an i.e. other
appropriate sets (for example, i.e.8 associated through i.c.9 generates c4-13, a
generating c4-9). In the Concerto for Orchestra, the intervals in lines and
their linear associations appear to be more important than the resultant sets.
231
Notes to Chapter 8
(1967)p.33-51.
233
Select Bibliography
Carter, E.C. The Writings of Elliott Carter, cd. E. and K. Stone (University of
Barthcs, R. S/Z, tr. R. Miller (Hill and Wang: New York, 1974).
1983).
Ives, C. Essays Before a Sonata, ed. H. Boatwright (W.W. Norton: New York,
1961).
Langer, S.K. Feeling and Form (Routledge and Kegan Paul: London, 1953).
Mellers, W. Music in a New Found Land (Barrie and Rockliff: London 1964).
New York Public Library Elliott Carter: Sketches and Scores in Manuscript
Oxford, 1985).
(iii) Articles
p.53-61.
Twelve-tone Invariants as Compositional Determinants' Musical
Baker, J.M. 'Coherence in Weberns Six Pieces for Orchestra Op.6' Music
Jheory Spectrum [MTS] 4 (1982), p.1-27.
(1974), p.170-190.
p.1-25.
(1983), p.5-34.
Cone, E.T. 'Stravinsky: The Progress of a Method', PNM 1/i (1962), p.18-26.
p.43-64.
p.54-73.
p.219-229.
p.45-62.
Martino, D. 'The Source Set and its Aggregate Formations', JMT 5/ii (1961),
p.224-273.
(1982), p.106-124.
'Webern and Atonality: The Path from the Old Aesthetic', Musical
(1957), p.5-14.