HARMONIC
FUNCTION
IN CHROMATIC MUSIC
‘A Renewed Dualist Theory
and an Account of
Its Precedents
DANIEL
HARRISON
The University of Chicago Press
Chicago and LondonDaniel Harrison is associate professor of musi atthe University of Rochester and
associate professor of musie theory atthe Eastman Sehool of Music.
‘The University of Chicago Press, Chicago 60837
‘The University of Chicago Press, Ltd., London
© 1994 by The University of Chicago
{Al righs reserved. Published 1994
Printed in the United States of America
(03 02 01 00 99 98.97 9695 9412345
ISBN: 0-226-31808-7 (cloth)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publicaton Data
Harrison, Daniel, 1959~
‘Harmonie function in chromatic musi : a renewed dualist cheory and an
accaunt ofits precedents / Daniel Harrison.
Includes bibliographic references and index.
1. Harmony, 2. Musie—Theory—19th century. 3. Musie~Theory —
20th century. I. Tite
ML444.1376. 1994 9311540,
781.2'S--de20 ce
MN
{© The paper used inthis publication meets the minimum requirements of the
‘Americn National Standard for Information Sciences ~Permanence of Paper
for Printed Library Materials, ANST 239,48:1984,
have surveyed theorists of al ages (as fara they were available
tome) and, a a result, have mined many nuggets of gold that
seemed to me worth the effort of coining. Ihave even been quite
pleased in many eases to fnd out that ideas I hed come on on my
‘own had already been formulated by others (yet forgotten
again) It would be foolish in these cases to give great weight to
mi independent reformulation, but Ido give great weight to the
proof that ideas containing a truth Rare up again and again until
{hey can no longer be suppressed
—Hlugo RiemannConTENTS
Preface / ix
‘Note on Terminology and Sources / xii
Introduction / 1
Parr 1
‘A Renewep Duatist THEORY oF
Harwonic Function
Ove
Dualism and Function: Two Postulates / 15
‘1 The Uses of Dualism / 15
1.2.A New Modal Dualism / 17
1.3 Dual Networks / 22
1.4 Harmonic Function and Its Dualisms / 34
1.5 What Is Harmonic Function? / 36
Two
Scale Degree and Harmonic Function | 43,
2.1 Functional Roles of Seale Degrees / 45
2.2 Harmonie Function in Scale-Degree Assemblies (57
‘Tuner,
Establishment, Discharge, and
Chrematie Behavior of Functions / 73.
3.1 Position Finding / 73
3.2 Position Asserting: The Rhetoric of Tonic ! 75
3.3 Tonal Motion and Functional Discharge / 90
3.4 Accompaniments: Voice Leading as Consequence of Harmony / 102Four
Analytic Techniques | 127
4.1 Segmental Analysis / 128
4.2 Linking Analysis / 134
42.1 Hugo Wolf: “An den Schlaf” 138
4.3 Accumulative Analysis (153
44 Analytic Essays / 165
4.4.1 César Franck: Pice héroique | 167
44.2 Max Reger: Inrodubtion, Passacaglia und Puge / 183
14.4.3 Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 2/ 198
4.5 Conclusion to Part 1/212
Parr 2
A Historicat. Account oF
HagMonic FuNcTion AND Duatisa,
Five
Preliminaries: The Theories of Hauptmann,
Helmholtz, and Octtingen | 215
8.1 Introduction / 215
5.2 Moritz. Hauptmann: The Nature of Harmony and Metre | 218
5.3 Hermann von Helmboltz: On the Sensations of Tone | 234
54 Arthur von Oettingen: Harmoniesystem in dualer Entwickelung / 242
six
Hugo Riemann | 252
6.1 Riemann and Dualism / 254
6.2 The Development of Riemann's Theory of Harmonie Function / 265,
Seven
‘The Devolution of Riemann's Theories | 293
7.1 Conservators / 294
7.2 Reconcilers ! 295
17.3 Radicals / 307
74 Afterword / 321
Serect Brauioorapay / 323
INDEX To SuplEcTS AND Names / 329
Iwex 70 Musical, Compostrions / 336
PREFACE
‘This book is born of that singular compound of fascination and frustra-
tion, The music of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries has
always seemed to me one of unrivaled brilliance, charisma, and ambition.
Is remarkable proteesions—thrilling when substantiated, ludicrous when
hhollow—continually amaze me, Fascination—spellbound attention—is
not too strong a word. But frustraion: the repertory seems analytically
impenetrable, a redoubt built from welded-shut technical secrets. For the
analyst, late nineteenth-century chromatic music presents near intractable
problems and has seemed to be something too peculiar, too complicated,
(oF too arbitrary for existing music theories and analytic techniques.
‘What appears here is an attempt to understand the use of harmony in
late nineteenth-century music and to understand it from a particularly
nineteenth-century point of view. To a certain extent, this renewal of an
‘older style of music theory is born of the disappointments that have at-
tended the use of more recent techniques. Current analytic approaches
stemming from Schenker, for example, seem to me basically inaccurate in
their structural repors because they often do not know how to give precise
soundings of the harmonic variety and innovation in late nineteenth-cen-
tury music: tricky and pivotal harmonic spots are all to0 often finessed
with curvaceous slurs and floating noteheads. I take this asa sign that the
theory underlying the graph—the theory that motivates and governs the
aanalysis—can oaly be unclear and unhelpful when dealing with this music.
Indeed, I think that Schenkerian-oriented approaches often make the
analysis of late nineteenth-century music more difficult than need be;
theorists seemed more confident about chromatic music before the
present day.
Because my appreach involves close contact with theoretical ideas that
appear to belong mare to the history of our discipline than to its present(although they are still active to some extent in Germany), the book
presents them in two forms: my own, “renewed” version that is unpacked
in the fist four chapters and a critical account of their origins and early
developments in the hands of such theorists as Moritz Hauptmann, Arthut
von Oettingen, and Hugo Riemann. This account is presented in part 2.
T place such emphasis here on a speculative theory and its history
because the types of aural and analytic imaginations that late nineteenth
century music encourages are distinetly different from those predominat-
ing in North America today. It seems best, then, that a theory dealing
with, inspired by, and designed specifically for chromatic music should
hhave all its structure laid out for inspection. Accordingly, theoretical de
‘velopment begins from two fundamental postulates discussed in chapter 1
T spend much time there diving into the epistemological depths; the reader
tiring from all the philosophizing and wanting to know what its payoff
‘might be ought to consult sections 1.3.3.1 and 1.5.1.1, both of which offer
elementary but fundamental analytic illustrations,
‘Chapters 2 and 3 present the heart of the theoretical work: an inves-
tigation into the way harmonic function is communicated. In chapter 4, 1
propose three analytic routines that seem to be natural consequences of
the theoretical interests presented thus far in the book and then unburden
myself ofa strictly theoretical exposition with three analytic essays, which
conclude part 1. These essays treat representative, if not overly familiar,
late nineteenth-century works. Familiarity with’ the compositions, of
course, guarantees the richest rewards from the essays, but I have de-
‘Signed them to illustrate general methods, techniques, and habits in ad-
dition to providing specific analytic results for the pieces in question,
Unlike most treatments of late nineteenth-century music, this book
does not concern itself with the supposed “transitional” nature of its
‘musical language, mixing and matching various tonal and atonal analytic
techniques to show how volatile a compound chromatic music is. Its pur:
pose is rather to illuminate the particular structure and idioms of that
language and to do so from a standpoint that secs in its innovations no
“threat to tonality,” no ffth-columnism, no dangerous distention of tonal
principles. That radical compositional techniques began to flourish after
the heyday of late Romanticism is a styl-historial fact, but one that does
not necessarily have to impinge on the theoretical understanding of the
‘earlier repertory. In other words, we need not be constantly enamored of,
the idea of teclinical continuity in music or in other arts. Although the
appetizer follows the soup and precedes the entrée, we regard it not as an
“extended soup” or a “nascent entrée” but as a moment in a procession
of different tastes and experiences.
‘Thanks are due frst to colleagues at the University of Rochester, both
atits Eastman School of Music and, most important, at its College of Arts
and Science Music Program. Kim Kowalke, Massimo Ossi, and David
Schildkret at the latter and Robert Wason, Neil Minturn, Robert Gauldin,
and Ralph Locke atthe former have been particularly encouraging. Henry
Klumpenhouwer, Lee Rothfarb, Stephen Hinton, and Jonathan Bernard,
furnished assistance and counsel via electronic mail on occasion. Two
early readers of the manuscript, Richard Cohn and Patrick McCreless,
gave particularly valuable advice. Students in my sophomore theory
classes, especially those from the 1991-92 school year, were both percep:
tive critics and enthusiastic supporters of some of the ideas presented.
here.
Tam indebted to the University of Rochester for a faculty research
grant that helped defray the costs of obtaining rare materials, for a Mellon
junior faculty leave that helped jump start the writing, and for a generous
subvention toward publication. Finally, my wife, Anne, provided the sup:
port, ime, understanding, and love necessary for me to carry out and,
especially, to complete this project.NOTE ON TERMINOLOGY AND SOURCES
In keeping with my interest in having function and chord regarded as
separate things, I make a typographic distinction between names of func:
tions and names of triads. The former are treated as proper nouns and are
capitalized, the latter as common nouns and appear lowercase. Thus, a
tonic triad can express Tonic function. Or, more succinctly if apparently
tautologous, tonic can be Tonic. Following Riemann’s usage, the func
tions are often abbreviated to their frst letter, italicized and set in bold
face: Tonic = T, Doriinant = D, and Subdominan
Many of the primary theoretical sources for the present work are in
German, I have tried to use translations wherever possible, although I
recognize that, in some cases, the original may, in fact, be more accessi-
ble, In the case of Hayptmann’s Harmony and Metre, I quote from W.E.
Heathcote’s somewhet stilted translation, although the citations wil fer
the reader to the section number rather than the page number; since the
section numberings are the same in the English and the German editions,
those with access to the original can find the citation easily. Quotations
from Louis and Thuille's Harmonielehre are taken from Richard Isadore
Schwarte's annotated translation, easily available from UMI dissertation
services. Even though Louis and Thuile’s work is widely available, many
editions circulate. The fourth—the last on which Louis actually worked
is the edition on which Schwartz hased his translation. T occasionally
refer to the tenth edition—an entirely reworked version—for material not
in the earlier editions. Unless specified otherwise, quotations from Rie
man’s Handbuch der Harmonielehre are from the tenth edition (1928).
which is an unaltered reprint of the sixth edition (1917). The case with
Riemann’s Vereinfachte Harmonielehre is more complicated. The English
translation (Harmony Simplified) is more widely available in this country
than the original German, Indeed, I believe that Riemann wrote the workxiv [NOTE ON TERMINOLOGY AND SOURCES
‘with near simultaneous translations into English and French in mind; con-
sequently, since the demands of the market were already satisfied by an
English translation, few German editions ever made it across the Avlantic.
INTRODUCTION
‘Any chord can follow another chord
—Max Reger
aphorism is the motto of a musical style." It is at once an impassive
descriptive statemen:, a revolutionary slogan, a taunt to pedants, a “eu-
oka" to composers Although coined by Reger, it is emblazoned on
banners under which many composers marched—led certainly by Liszt,
‘arms liked with Wagner. For those who grew up within the movement—
among whom were Reger’s contemporaries Strauss, Mahler, Busoni,
iitzner, and Schoenberg —the motto has an especial relevance. It was less
‘a prophetic vision than a standard operating procedure, and thus its force
‘on these composers was the powerful if prosaic foree of habit and custom,
‘that of revolutionary fervor having subsided in this, the second genera
ton, Many of us sense the effects ofthis force, sometimes painfully, when
‘analyzing works of these composers. Indeed, Reger’s words have often
1. The epigraph state from Hemann Grabner, Reger: Harmonik (Munich: Hi
belo, 1920; reprint, Wiesbaden: Breitkopt & Hustl, 1961, 7. Graber takes this sying
from his nots on Reger classroom lectures, but Reger himself believed io hve on
inate with List Tonaity, as coded fr fy years by Fai, too arrow for 19021
‘onstenti follow List rule “any chord can follow another chor.” That no nantes
happea because of is asurance tat very few musclans know th ld and modern masters
sewell 1 do" (Max Reyer fo Constanta Sandler, 1 aly 19D, Max Reger: Bre cies
‘deaschon Meiers, 4, he Hase Koehler (Lem: Koehler & Amana, 1928] 94). A
‘hough hve been abl to locate this phrase Lists wing, Rove fund a connection
between Lit anda solar worded phrase The Neue Zelachif fr Manik smounced it
185 a contest forthe bet theory of modern hatmony and asked Lat, mong others, 1 be
2 judge I the fist pz essay, Cat Friedrich Wetemanm sate that "BEDE tO om
Sonant wads connected with natural oice lading there can aways be show an inner
‘onnection or relatinshi” ("Erklarende Erliterang und uskalache shores Be-
[funding der durch ie muesten Kunstchopfungenbewikten Umpexalung ued Weiter.
bidung der Harmon,” Neve Zetsche fr Musk 1 1860} 17) For more on Wei
mana’ essay, see see 523 below.2 mermopucrion
been ar owner san acon ut a sph How many snes
ave we tained powerful analyte copes on some passage o intrest ol
tofnd an improbable succession of Roman numerals qualied by complex
fguredbae signatures or=more common in these days discover tht
most ofthe interesting sonories ae mere posing cords and such,
Can be diminved from the harmonic srutre witha clear conscience
Have we ever so despaired of traditional techniques that We sought
sted relationships among atoalpitchlass sets? We have frequen
been edt conclude tha, ly, any chord can fllow another cond, tha
the hamoni coherences posible In this music ae too many tobe cot
rll dosilely into some system like so many diatonic cadences th so.
Quences. Lintner and anal alike are overwhelmed stampede you
Sill"by uobriled tna elatonshipe and exhilarating washes har
ties, Although the musi rests delight the formers ext hey fs.
tat the ater
“This fstation stm rom he disconcerting perception hat harmonic
coherence inthis music may be something iseeabl, perhaps covert,
tnd crataly incapable of being understood through conventional means
‘The onal organization of anyone piece, ina Way tore dstintive than
cari pratcs, sem to be at once dered fom eceved procedures
and invented ex nile. This combination, the familar with the alien,
Undoes many analyte theories in curent we ether one or the ster i
apprehended, but hardly ever the two together” When attempting to
proces both, most analy engines ser cipling breakdowns a elt
{ovwhich no on has testified wth greater exasperation and bitervets han
Heinrich Schenker. His "anlyas” of Regers Bach Variations, op. Bt
(rally an excuse fo excoriate the piece), Betray a fustaion almost
Se omni oman naar
SSE nme fg rp,
‘ams. Mary Whital, California Studies in 19th Century Music, ed. Joseph Kerman, no. 1
SP SOT nr Sac tea
Sele ue rtopemue ane rmmes open
poke Sanaa are Ses hana areata
Snes holes noel eens hari ee
ssrRopucTion 3
‘monumental in its intensity. About the beginning of the third variation,
shown in example I1 (overleaf), he writes:
The variation begins in mm. 1-3 [of ex. I.t] with the
imitation of the coda-like passage in the last measure of
the theme as the upper-voice motive, apparently meant as
counterpoint to the ascending linear progressions of the
middle voices, which appear to reproduce the initial as
ending third of the theme—thus a joining of beginning
and ending motives! However, other than this scheme of
eproducing motives from the theme, the voice leading in
these measures shows no definite goal: how far does the
‘middle-voice linar progression in m. 1 extend—from Df
to F or to F# on the fourth eighth? (Certainly not to the
second F on the fifth eighth!) How far does the linear
progression in m, 2 extend? Does the line in m. 3 starting
from the fourth eighth and the line in m. 4 from the second
‘sixteenth signify a continuation? And, all things consid
ered, do these near progressions rise or fll? Finally, is
the third eighth of m, 4 somehow related to the beginning
of the variation” How is it that the linear progressions are
set in different parts of the measure and in such # disor-
ganized way at that? No answer is possible since @ pro~
Tongation with a definite beginning and end (e.g., tied,
fourth, fifth progression, etc.) is lacking, a requirement,
afterall, for any coherence.?
Not surprisingly, Schenker concluded that the work was a feckless
pastiche, a disjointed mixture of literal quotations from the theme inter-
Sspersed with fantasia-like sections having nothing to do with the theme
‘Although he did give some meager credit for skillful handling of fore
‘ground chords ("Each chord lives only for itself, maintains decent neigh-
borly relationships at best, but, beyond that, cultivates no higher connec-
tions”), even this backhanded compliment was retracted a few pages later
(C[The structure] is based on utterly exaggerated activity in connecting the
nearest chords, which cuts off larger connections and thus makes prolon-
3, Heivch Schenker, “Ein Gegenbeipel: Mx Reger op. 8: Vaiatonen und Fuge
ater cin Thema von Jon. Seb, Bach fr Klavier,” Das Meuterwerkin dr Misi, Sbrbach
1 (Munich: Drei Masten, 1826), 179-8.4 ssrropuctioN
Exqnrte 11 Reger, Bach Variations, op, 8, mm 43-47
mec 5-950)
nies
”
‘ational spans impossible”) « For Schenker, Reger's work was a scapegoat
for the sins of “modern” music, a repertory whose defects could launch
hhim into the most searing invective. That which scorches op. 81 should be
4, hi, 185,190,
erropverion 5
taken as a blast on every composition sharing its stylistic and technical
features
Schenker’ failure with Reger's op. 81 isemblematic of 2 general failure
tounderstand the harmonic structures and procedures of chromatic music,
or at least to understand them with the same sensitivity that can be
Drought to the analysis of common-practice and atonal musies. (Ernst
Kurth’s work constitutes an important exception.) This failure has long
seemed irredeemable; even as recently as 1975, ity years after Schenker’s
essay, William Benjamin plaintively reminded us that “we have rather &
long way to go in developing concepts adequate for expressing what we
hhear in music from the late tonal period.”> Unhappily, progress since 1975
thas not moved us appreciably closer to tis goa. Is tue that the urgency
required to motivate such progress has until recently been largely lacking;
I suspect that the successes of Schenkerian and pitch class (pe)-set tech=
niques in flanking repertories have mitigated the failure with chromatic
‘music and made it less flagrant. But, as interest in this music rekindles,
that unfinished business—a satisfactory if not conclusive engagement with
its techniques and structures—becomes more pressing. Music theory has
‘matured into a rewarding and profitable discipline; all the more discom:
fiting therefore is that debt which has been on our books for a century’
We cannot repay this debt with Schenker's coin or with coins stamped
from his bullion; Schenker’s own experience is warning enough that his
‘currency is not convertible. What follows in this book is a resumption of
payment in an older specie, an advocacy of ideas whose creative devel:
‘opment was abandoned when the need to examine the radical composi
tional designs of Schoenberg, Webern, Stravinsky, et al. became over
whelming and the work of less restless composers somehow became
ordinary, even vulgar, and not worth theoretical effort
| thus turn to theorists such as Moritz Hauptmann, Hugo Riemann,
Rudolf Louis and Ludwig Thuille, and Hermann Erpf, a5 well as to their
students and partisans, Although, like Schenker, most of these theorists
were interested primarily in explaining earlier, common-practice styles,
5. Wiliam E. Benjamin, “overlocking Diatoie Colleton a » Source of Chromat
sism in Late NineteeathCeatry Musi," In Theory Only 1, ns. 11-12 (1975) 31
ee6 vtopucrios
their explanations involved radically innovative strategies, the novelty of
‘which compares to that of Rameau and of Schenker, Although these
strategies had a negligible effect on compositional technique and are
largely discredited today, the assumptions and ideologies underlying them
fare a more than appropriate starting point for exploring late tonal music,
for these assumptions get at foundations of tonality and attempt to con:
struct a tonal reality different from the one described with Roman nu-
merals and figured bass. Many aspects of this reality are now poorly
understood since the differences between, say, Riemann’s theoretical ori
‘entation and that of our own day are not insignificant. The nervous reader
should here know that I do not plan a wholesale, uncriticl, and delusional
revival of these older music theories but a resurrection, a renewal oftheir
‘motivating ideas and aspirations so as to re-create aspects of this alterna
tive tonal realty in the light of today's knowledge.
In this kind of revival there is precedent, ironically, in Schenker's work
since one of his great achievements was the linking of an analytic method
with compositional, aesthetic, and pedagogical ideas contemporary with
his repertory of choice. Mindful of Schenker’s success, I attempt here t0
duplicate this aspect of his method of theory building. That the results,
‘even the assumptions and postulates, would infuriate Schenker is beyond
doubt, but the way of seeking a music theory from both the compositions
and the underlying theoretical constructs concurrent with those composi
tions need not and ought not be reserved for him alone.
Although different music theories circulated in fin-de-sitele Europe, T
‘am anchoring in the work of those commonly grouped together as the
“harmonic dualists”—and, specifically, in the work of Hugo Riemann—
because they advance ideas and ways of hearing music with which I have
sympathy. The choice of Riemann as the prototype is due primarily to his
selection and synthesis of these ideas and attitudes; Riemann often
knowledged the salient contributions of other theorists and welcomed
them inte his theoretical confederation. Riemann is also a valuable anchor
in that the work of many subsequent theorists, even those who would
quarrel with him on various points, can often be understood as rearrange:
‘ments, developments, adjustments, or refutations of ideas that Riemann
gathered and refined. In short, Hugo Riemann’s work harbors a wide
ange of interpretations, glosses, interesting misunderstandings, and va
ations of a rather restricted set of useful and insightful ideas. He is thus
chiefly responsible for setting the agenda of turn-of-the-century music
nerropuction 7
theory. And not only theory: most central European composers of this,
century were schooled in Riemannian doctrine of one type or another.
Unlike those eighteenth-century music theories that Schenker admired
and used, those of the late nineteenth century contain a high proportion
of the speculative to the practical. Indeed, the harmonic duals are often,
ridiculed today for their enormous theoretical card houses and for their
adamant advocacy of technical ideas hardly substantiated in composed
‘music, This bent toward the speculative can be a handicap if technical
information—sueh as the rules of counterpoint or figured bass—is desired
from an older theory. But, in a more positive light, this emphasis allows
more imaginative play with ideas themselves, with their origins, with their
interrelationships, as well as with their perhaps subtle manifestation in
composition, In many ways, what late nineteenth-century theory contrib
luted to musical composition was less technical than it was conceptual;
material relationships among notes were less important than the interpre-
tation and comprehension of those relationships and, more important, of
their types and classes. This is the essence of the tonal reality that theorists,
‘were creating.
It will be my contention throughout this book that this theoretical
orientation, which focuses on issues of modal identity and harmonic re-
latediness, isthe key to developing ways to hear late tonal music. On the
face of it, “Any chord can follow another chord” promises a musical
experience that we can associate more readily with Cage, for example,
than with Reger. That we can stil hear Reger's music as familiarly tonal
in some sense makes this aphorism a much more complicated statement
than at Srst it seems, for it means not only that any chord can follow
another but also that a listener can make tonal sense of such a progres-
sion—indeed, not merely can, but must. The frustration mentioned earlier
is really an inability to access the means by which we do, in fact, make
‘tonal sense of the music. Deriving from conceptual rather than perceptual
difficulties, this inability is @ problem in the type of analytic categories
brought to and imposed on music. For common-practice tonal music, we
have a finely tuned set of such categories that serves us well; we also
possess a set of a more recent and piquant vintage for atonal repertories.
In order to make peace with chromatic music, then, a new set ought to be
developed—one undoubtedly derived from that used for tonal music but
also one tooled especially for chromatic techniques. It is for this reason
that Riemann's work is attractive. Ostensibly considering traditional8 stonuction
structures and procedures of tonality, it refracts them in unusual and
suggestive ways—creating, as I put it earlier, a different tonal reality
And, in being in many ways a concept-driven, idealist theory of musi, it
is perfectly suited to the job of retooling eategories.©
Before embarking on the promised theoretical work, I think it neces:
sary £0 expose some obstacles that traditional music histories put in the
way’
6 Instating thatthe nee for new eateries has not been generally recognized donot
smoaa 10 ignore the coantererample of Ernst Kurth whose sock certainly demands
thierent way of thinking than that dominst today. Whe I find tach of vale i his
profound and smpatheuc knowledge of Romantic” harmony —reflested in much of whit
follons inthis book—I eanaot follow to the end the path that Kurth blazed since hs
theories, because of their pychologal and subjective component, seem tome to be
profoundly dependent onthe personality that ceated them. I ths do ot think that they
fin he transferred of taught to anther wibout some los of integnty. Lee Rothiard
essentially concurs (See his introduction to Erat Kurth: Selected Wings, Cambadge
Stodies in Masie Theory and Analysis, ed, Tan Bent, to. 2 [Combldge: Cambridge Un
‘ersty Press, 1991], 2) In this respect, Kurt's thcoris contrat sharply with thore of
Riemann, Schenker, apd Letdahl and Jackendoff to mame but three) in which an analyse
tecigue can be abstracted trom the body of the thesry not an ene hap ecm
Stance fo be sure. One need not know mich abou genetaie lags, ep inorder 10
falyze 2 la Lerdah! and Jckendot. Silly, Allen Forte and Stephen Cites Inno.
‘Tucion 1 Schenkerian Analysts (New York: Noro, 1982) teaches Seenkerian "aalys”
‘without mach Sehenkeran “theory,” effectively reversing the emphasis of Schenker’ ova
Der free Soe (Free Composition, ras. ade, Eroat Oses [New York: Longman, 197)
Because iis experienda cue Lee Rota’ term; see hs Emst Kurth as Theos and
‘Analyt Phadeiphia: University of Pemmyvania Pres, 1988), 218), Kat's work conta
no ew analyte method or procedure; itrather deploys exshng methods to diferent ends
‘The beauty of Kurth’ anajsis isin is ordring of musical den, n is vd desertion of
event, and ia is sensitivity to the etre of late Romantic harmony. Further, Kurth
Theoret projet lest intrested in echnical sutures and compositional procedures
per se—the interpretation of which the main foes ofthis stady~than ein het rele
find eters, Nevertheless, dspte these eavests, what fllons here ill hive = marked
tity with Kurt's des, for Kurth was a interested in the import of "Any chord ex
fotow another chord” as mI, and the ways in which Reger’ aphorism can be waved
are few. Kurt's solution recognizes tht, fr fom beings puziement, the spor is
busi descrip statement one that eccords neatly wih is interest inthe harmon els
‘flies forces. But agin, or on atersted inthe materi] aspects ofthese ores an in
the principles tat allow them to be coordinated, Kurt's projet offers lie nourishment,
FHisrientation seems only to shift the mystery fom the hanmonl othe melodie domain.
Any line can move as it wil" fone telorrulation of Rege's saying in Rurth's
temmsis as much an enigma asthe orginal.
rnerropuenon °
(Our dominant method of historical inquiry involves constructing a suc-
cession of compositional styles and techniques, and we accordingly find
venues of study that reflect this interest. One such avenue is the seeking
out in older music foreshadowings and intimations of music yet to come
ang, its concomitant pursuit, the tracing of influence and artistic patri-
‘mony in early music, These activities satisfy an appetite for continuity and
connected narrative that we enjoy in a history. Yet they entail, however
subtly, a process of selection that tends to place musical artworks into
progressive and conservative classes— progressive describing music that
‘seems well connected to styles and techniques of the future and conser-
vative describing musie well connected to those of the past.
Any approach to history has its ideological blind spots. These often
appear as practical weaknesses of method, weaknesses that stunt under-
standing of events not valued by the historical ideology. For late nine-
teenth-century music, such weaknesses are conspicuous: categorizing art-
works as progressive and conservative does little justice to an era that
‘ould countenance the imitation and combination of various “conserva-
tive” historical styles in the name of progress and musical evolution
Reger, for instance, claimed that he was “an extreme progressive,”” yet,
his music exhibits such a marked affinity with that of Bach that it some
times seems the work of an epigone. Similarly, Busoni strove composi-
tionally for what he called Junge Klassizitdt—"the mastering, sifting and
exploitation of al the achievements of preceding experiments"—* but his
‘music continually mixes these preceding experiments with radical ones of
his own design in order to create a rich mixture of innovation and custom.
‘The problems that our historical enterprise has encountered in tum-
of-the-century music leave us with some unrefined residue that often fouls,
our appreciation ofthe repertory. Schenker’s essay, for example, reminds
us that we conceive of chromatic music as representing the dissolution of
traditional tonality instead of, say, its culmination, In this view, the di-
chotomy proposed earlier of the familiar and the alien understands the
familiar elements to be somehow contaminated, not enriched, by the
presence of the alien. The whiff of decay that this attitude gives off is
7. Max Reger to Constantin Sander, 17 July 192, in Max Reger: Bf ies deuschen
Meiers, 94
8. Ferrocio Busoni’ ltr to aul Bekker was published inthe 7 February 1920 issue
ofthe Frankfurter Zeiung: iti cited in Antony Beaumont, Buson te Composer (Bloom
Ingo: Indiana Unversty Press, 1985), 250 rvrronucrion
fanned by the kind of style labels usually appended to chromatic music—
for example, “late Romantic”—labels that assert only a derivative rela-
tionship to previous musical styles and that mention nothing about the