The Symbolic Analysis of Music

The Symbolic Analysis of Music
BY
MICHAEL McMULLIN
I
before going into a theory of musical analysis it is important to consider what is the purpose of such analysis, and what is the function and nature of musical criticism, of which analysis is a part. In the kind of analysis that is commonly found in programme notes, the listener is informed that such is the first subject, given out in the violins, that there is an episode here which plays an important part later, a fragment there, that such is the second subject, that there is a dialogue between strings and wood-wind, and that the movement is in sonata form. This is intended to help him to appreciate the work. But some of it even the listener who knows nothing of musical technique can see for himself, and he can get a great deal of enjoyment from the music without paying any attention to the rest. He would be justified in thinking that such an analysis only disturbs his pleasure; for it presents a work, which is a living, organic and expressive whole, as a series of lifeless and unrelated fragments, strung together apparently without rhyme or reason, as though the composer had picked a few themes at random and tacked them on to one another with "bridge- passages".

It is doubtful whether the knowledge-of what is the first or second subject contributes very substantially to the enjoyment of a work; but an academic dissection of form can help appreciation in so far as it places a work historically, and shows us the different forms that were used at different periods of history and how they developed. This can help to an understanding of what is expressed in the music, for the forms and styles used were appropriate to the content at each period. But an analysis should go further than this, and investigate why particular forms and styles were associated with particular periods, and what is expressed through these in individual works and how it is expressed. The interest of individual works does not lie in the extent to which they conform to a pattern, but in the conditions of the period, in how they differ from it, just as they differ in their thematic material. It is not enough to pick out the first subject, bridge-passage and second subject, but we desire to see why they are there, in what way they are related, and what is expressed as a result.

But the question of what is expressed and how it is expressed brings us from merely superficial formal analysis to aesthetic analysis, and criticism must originate here. The aesthetics of music is the study of why and by what means music produces important effects, and criticism must draw its conclusions from this. Moreover in the enjoyment of music we are aware more or less consciously of innumerable effects of suggestion and association in combination with the emotional effect. A more conscious analysis of these wilt enable as to see beyond the immediate emotional effect to the higher formal and intellectual content of music, will make the difference between an agreeable sensation of something significant but indefinite, and a clear perception of what it is that is significant, when full advantage can be taken of the experience.

Music being the most abstract and instinctive of the arts, musicians are least given to theorizing, and although theories of poetry and painting have been put forward in abundance, in music such things are almost taboo. But since music is the "purest" art, and the one which can affect us the most powerfully and plays a part, in some form, in the life of almost everybody, it should be the art on which any theory of aesthetics is based. In spite of this the aesthetics have hardly been touched upon and critics are afraid of committing themselves to anything but a mathematical formal analysis which reveals no living form or sense. We find quite a different approach however in the work of Professor Arnold Schering, particularly in the posthumously published collection of essays entitled Das Symbol in der Musik, where he opens up a line of thought of far-reaching significance.

Schering's book is a study of the associations between music and extra-musical ideas, and is based above all on the analysis of the music of Bach. That he approached the aesthetics of music through Bach is in itself important. Bach stood in the high summer of European culture, at both a central and a turning point. His is in a sense the summit of European music, the highest artistic expression of the positive and essential content of the culture. It is still classical in spirit, and is the apex of the contrapuntal technique. After Bach, who was no doubt the greatest constructive genius in music up to his time, we have the decline of the contrapuntal curve, and the beginning of the progression towards the harmonic and Romantic period. Haydn and Mozart are already autumnal and Beethoven is the dramatic and stormy genius, ushering in disruption. The aesthetic of Bach not only ceased to prevail, but was no longer understood, and his music was entirely forgotten. There followed quite different ideas on the nature of art and the function of the artist, and to-day we are still apt to be influenced by these, and to look upon all art from within our own world, as though the outlook to which we have been accustomed were absolute and pertained to all periods. The rediscovery of Bach, however, and the increasing enthusiasm for his music today, are indicative of a total change of taste, and the growth of a new aesthetic which has more in common with his methods and outlook than with much that came after him.

Approaching the study of the aesthetic methods of Bach from within his own period, Schering points out that the outlook on art was then much more matter-of-fact and rationalistic than that to which we are accustomed. The emphasis was laid, in the creation of music, on the part played by the giving of form to the idea (das Gestalten), rather than on the invention of thematic material (das Erfinden) or "inspiration". The latter was in fact systematized, and was known as the "ars inveniendi", and under this heading all kinds of rationalistic theories existed for finding a system, a "spiritual magic-wand", by -means of which music could provide itself with material from the outer world, and which sought after every possible way of supplying the connexion necessary for any music that aspires to be more than mere sound. Musical feeling was kindled in combination with the pictorial, the tone-symbolical in the narrowest sense, and anything resembling "pure" feeling, or a purely emotional revelling in sound, was foreign to the period. In the Romantic period the emphasis was placed on feeling, and the musical fantasy depended on the discovery of a warm and emotional theme. The idea was regarded as a "gift from Heaven", and there was no question of intellectual deliberation.

But although the Romantic idea of art does not recognize it, the question certainly exists of where music gets its material, with what it is connected and what it means. A very small amount of reflection on the process of composition makes it clear that music cannot arise out of nothing, that there must be at the start something to work on and an original stimulus to musical invention.

"It needs". Sobering writes, "the support of the extra-musical, and the distinction between different ages and their styles lies in this alone, that—consciously or unconsciously—this extra-musical element is sought for and found sometimes in this, sometimes in that spiritual region." He discusses the part played in Bach's vocal music by figures and tropes corresponding to those of poetry and rhetoric, by which definite visual images are evoked and used for metaphors and comparisons. These visual associations he calls "sense-pictures", and he shows the importance of a consciousness of them, touching the key to aesthetics when he introduces the word symbol. Seeing the history of European music as a continuous effort to give meaning to the material and technique of musical expression (Vergeistigung der Ausdrucksmittel), he writes "if the question be asked in what lies the giving of meaning to this material, it can be answered in a word: in its capacity to act as symbol. For since everything spiritual is by its nature abstracted from the senses, it can only be grasped indirectly: in the form of a seen or heard 'picture', which contains the 'sense' of the spiritual or intellectual. A spiritual content therefore can only be introduced into music with the help of tonal sense-pictures (Klang-Sinnbadern)".

He distinguishes four "grades" or planes of symbolic expression in music. The first of these is the movement of the line of sound, which, he says, "presents itself to the ear of the listener as a pure sensory phenomenon", and carries the emotional content.

His second grade is "that plastic, almost palpable pictorialism, which Bach and his age were unable to separate from the idea of emotion". To them, as distinct from the Romantics, an emotion was conceived in connexion with the imagination of "more or less concrete feeling-pictures, particularly visual pictures", which kindled the musical fantasy. The word, he says, was to Bach only significant in so far as it suggested a living act which could be visualized, and the word "beseech", for instance, never occurs in his text without a musical interpretation in terms of the wringing of hands or of prostration. To the word "protect" musical substance is given once the reference to the idea of a steady shielding (a sustained note), another time through the idea of an active warding-off (moving, springing semi-quavers), "for wherever the text offers pictorial expressions Bach puts into them the living breath of emotion, because picture and emotional expression are for him one and the same thing". This grade also includes conventional instrumental symbolism, and the understanding of the symbolism belonging to it often depends upon familiarity with the musical idioms of the time.

In the third grade Schering includes the symbolic use of the technical means of composition, such as the canon, the ostinato, the pedal-point, and the concerto principle. The symbolic effect in concerto form of the few, or the one, opposed to the crowd, has been dilated upon by Tovey, and is a case where the entry of an extra-musical idea is admitted. A similar effect can exist in any combination of instruments, or in the contrasting of two instruments in a duet.

Tovey also refers to the association of ideas in Mozart's violin Concerto in D, in which the orchestra is without trumpets, while the first theme played by the violin is a typical trumpet fanfare. This amounts to an ironic play upon the absence of trumpets of an almost Mallarméan subtlety, and belongs perhaps to Schering's fourth grade of symbolism, which comes into being "either through the quotation of generally known melodies, or through a play; upon sacred and mystical numbers, or through yet further-reaching logical combinations". In this way, by the association of particular melodies or particular instruments with certain ideas, symbolical connections can be established between one idea and another, or we can have a counterpoint of ideas. The association of particular styles with particular periods and surroundings can also be used for symbolical expression of this grade, and that such association plays a part in the appreciation of any music is implied in all programme notes, which usually begin by placing the music and the composer historically. We cannot listen to early polyphonic music, for example, without thinking of a cathedral and the cultural associations of its period, and the formal innovations of Beethoven lose their force unless we think of them historically; while all folk-music belongs definitely to certain peoples and regions and is inseparable from the poetical associations of these. It is on. a symbolism of this grade that the larger forms depend, for here we are on the most intellectual plane, where there is a symbolic interaction between ideas themselves.

We have therefore a gradation of layers or planes of symbolism ranging from the plane of immediately perceptible sense-effect to the reflective and formal, and becoming more intellectual as they embrace larger and more complex rhythms. Through the intellect a higher organization become possible, but the same principle of symbolic effect prevails on the most highly organized as on the simplest plane, and the complex must include the simple. In a work of art we have a simultaneous symbolism on all these planes, and more or less, elements on each plane may contribute to the effect, resulting in, as Sobering calls it, a "symbol-web", of organic complexity.

The main idea arising out of Schering’s book is that of the effect of music through sense-pictures (Sinnbilder), and of the conscious use of these by Bach. That music must have a "sense", and be more than the arrangement of notes in the abstract, and that its power to affect depends upon this, even if not consciously realized. This sense or significance of music is its interpretation of things, its expression of philosophic outlook or symbolic values. This does not mean that music must be an expression of arbitrary intellectual ideas, but of experienced reality; not that it must be representational, but that it produces its effects through the medium of suggestive action. Symbolism is the opposite of "realism". "A sense-relationship", he writes, "... is never something oncluded, but instead something open, inexhaustible, of wider meaning . . ." But if symbolism is opposed to realism, it is also opposed to the reactionary theory of "absolute" music, or "pure" forms, which, with the love of abstractions characteristic of the age, is commonly held by those who would refute realism in art, but have not thought out the question very consistently. Though the proposition of an association between music and extra-musical ideas will seem at first sight extremely controversial, and will probably be denied indignantly by many music-lovers, the latter would not, at the same time, follow up this denial to its logical conclusion and reduce their art to the status of an expressionless crossword puzzle. Rather would they be misunderstanding the idea of symbol, and confusing it with realism, or pressionism, with objective or subjective art; for it will arouse opposition from the adherents of each, being equally objective and subjective, being, in philosophy, against rationalism and irrational dogma alike, in art against romanticism, with its dose successor realism, and abstract formalism.

On the other hand, in a great deal of vocal music, particularly in songs with instrumental accompaniment, the extra-musical ideas are specified by the words, and no one would deny an association between these and the music. For instance, in Schubert's song The Trout, the figure which persists through the pianoforte accompaniment can be associated with the idea of the fish darting through the water, or with the mood and significance of the treat suggested in the poem. Here neither the music nor the words exist in order to describe a trout, but each is suggested by the idea of the trout. In the poem the trout is used as a concrete image to call up certain ideas; in the music, the trout suggests certain type of movement which can be associated directly with some of these ideas. If the words were now removed, the accompaniment would still be expressive as music, for the trout has become a type of musical movement that has a symbolic effect, and that might equally well have been suggested by a dragon-fly, or some other chance idea. But in this context it is emphasized by all the other ideas connected with the trout and developed coherently, so that it is particularly vivid and becomes part of a whole.
In the above example the definite image of the trout has been expressed in the general and symbolic terms of a musical figure, which has a certain emotional effect. To describe in words the quality of this effect we should have recourse to a comparison, for instance, the swimming of a trout. From the origin of musical expression in association with words in singing, and the transference of the expression of part of the idea to instruments in accompaniment, we can see the nature of expression in all music. The general way in which a musical phrase produces an effect, and the manner of its conception, remain the same, whether in vocal or instrumental music. The power of the symbolic depends upon the expression of the general in the particular, in terms of sense- or emotional effect. The emotional line in instrumental music is undoubtedly derived from the tones and cadences used for pulling expression into the voice; but an idea with which this is associated must be present, and a melodic phrase taken out of its context may become almost meaningless, though it is possible to a limited extent for an idea to be suggested by such a phrase alone. But instrumental music opens up a new world of sound-sensations and of suggestive possibilities, in melodic, rhythmic and contrapuntal movement, and above all in the new element of tone-colour, while instruments themselves are symbolic individually. Schering distinguishes four planes on which instruments are used for expression: In the test place, a large part of instrumental music is "spielerisch", an objective expression of the instrument, having, like play, no purpose beyond itself. Secondly, instruments may play a song-tune, originally associated with words, but this is not in their character, for the tune has not been conceived independently of the words, nor in terms of the particular qualities of instruments: or, thirdly, they may reproduce the expressions of poetic speech; here they must give up part of their possibilities, but this inarticulate attempt at speech, which we find in some of Beethoven's adagios, is itself symbolical. On the fourth and highest plane, however, instruments are used for their own peculiar powers, "in the service of an idea, of a relationship, not spoken, but only thought". The full possibilities for putting meaning into the medium of expression are utilized, whether in terms of separate instruments with particular capabilities and associations or in terms of their different qualities of sound, used as symbolic colours in orchestration. Instrumental music is the real sphere of the symbolical, where ideas are expressed only in their most generalized and relative aspect, purely in terms of effect felt. The particular is completely symbolized, and only here are complete sense-pictures possible. It should now be dear that by a "sense-picture" is meant a picture in terms of general sensations, and not an objective description or representation.

In a description, or analysis, we can indicate relationships but we cannot convey an actual experience, that is, a sensation in terms of rhythmic sounds, colour or form. This sensation is a new experience in itself; it is not a translation of an outer experience, but an expression through such. It originates in, and must be referred to outer experience or the concrete, but not necessarily to one particular concrete. In purely instrumental music the exact origin of the idea does not matter, unless the whole organization of a work depends on the conception of a definite setting, as in a symphonic poem. The music is developed as types of symbolic effect, in the interests of a more generalized and larger form and more intellectualized ideas, with the logic of, "eines inneres Geschehens", according to the realities of internal experience, and the associations used may come from many different sources and may be referable to one image or another of similar effect. Coherence, or form, depends on the relationship of these associations and ideas, and its attainment requires in instrumental music a higher intellectual power and a greater and more deliberate sense of the symbolic than in setting a text, where the form and set of associations are given. A symbolic effect, since it always contains a wider meaning, is capable of interpretation in many different terms, provided that these terms 'stand in the right relation to one another; but it may be doubted whether the composer himself must not keep in mind a definite picture, a definite set of relationships and associations, in order to achieve an organic unity in the whole. Beethoven himself wrote: "I always have a picture in mind, according to which I work", and he thought of himself as a tone-poet. Such a picture would provide a consistent symbolism and a means of logical relation and development between one part and another, though at the same time the picture would be used consciously fm such elements in it as served a symbolical purpose and not for its detail, as if a scene were being described for its own sake. Without a conscious method of symbolism of this sort we should be in danger either of mere description or of a meaningless succession of musical effects without any particular "raison d'etre" as a whole, and this is a criticism that is frequently applicable. It is often said of a piece of music that it "does not mean anything", and this does not apply only to its emotional content, for if we are to feel sad, or excited, we have to think of something to feel sad or excited about, and there must be some further reason why we should so feel about it. The concrete image stimulates the feeling because it symbolizes certain relationships, and by attaching feeling to it we make it embody a meaning. On the other hand a theoretical "meaning" is not implied, but the active effect, by which atone the "truth" of the idea is judged. All art affects us through the senses, and therefore this meaning, or the intellectual content, can be expressed only through sense-pictures. Art is a double symbolic action, that of the direct sense-effect of the sound or other medium in the present, and the sense-effect through associations in the intellect. Its origin is imitative, and it cannot get away from the reference to some concrete idea any more than it can from the physical sense-effect of its material. The meaning, or effect, of the details most depend upon sense-relationships which can be referred to experience, and the unity of the whole depends upon the existence of a symbolic idea which embraces these.

A great composer, an artist by nature, is naturally conscious of the symbolic effect of things and of his art, while many lesser artists, and some periods of history, are distinguished by a limited or incomplete consciousness in this respect, or occasionally by a total misconception of aesthetics and the method of art. If we cannot see the universal in the particular we cannot "understand" the particular, and if we do not apply this principle to art, and are not susceptible to its language, we cannot understand art. To arrive at a general principle it is necessary to set out from a particular ease, and to under- stand a 'general principle it is necessary to imagine particular manifestations of it. Tire Mane applies in art, which is ultimately concerned with general principles, but which must express these through concrete embodiment.

There are some compositions in which this process is clearly illustrated in its essentials, and the symbolical use of a concrete image, specified in the title, is self-evident. These are tone-poems, of the kind that are not programme music, and a particularly good example is Debussy's Nocturne for orchestra, "Nuages". Here it is necessary to think of a procession of clouds, and Debussy expresses a certain aspect of things through these, using them as symbols of the cold and impersonal universe. The music is in no way inferior from being openly concerned with clouds than if it were merely called "Nocturne", bat on the contrary it is made clear that it is full of meaning. In this case toe conception is concentrated around one idea, that of clouds, and depends upon the particular associations of these. If Debussy had decided to write a sym- phony using the same theme, he would probably have brought in many other ideas, and would not have called it "Nuages"; but the origin of the theme would have been the same. The other ideas would have had similar origin, but they would be parts of a more general idea represented by the whole. As a general principle this idea could be widely applied, and the terms in which the details are imagined would depend upon this application of the whole. The original theme, though suggested by clouds, might here be used to convey simply a feeling of height, or space, for instance, or of inexorable motion, aad the endless procession of all things, without the idea of clouds in particular being developed any further than this.

It is important however to be conscious of the symbolism of all musical expression if we are not to pass over a great deal of what is contained in great works and fail to penetrate into their meaning beyond the surface. We are apt to take the form, orchestration and succession of themes for granted, and refer them to abstract patterns without thinking any further. In the finale of Sibelius' second Symphony, for example, we have the usual first and second subjects, but if we consider the movement only as an example of conventional sonata form, it is not very striking, and perhaps rather badly balanced. The first theme is reminiscent of Tchaikovsky, and we might ascribe it to the influence of that composer on Sibelius, or to fagging inspiration. It is triumphant, but flamboyant and rather commonplace. The second subject begins with a surging in the 'cellos and violas, and a strange figure appears over this in the wood-wind. This is totally different from the first subject in every possible way, and seems to have no relation to it. This strange theme is repeated many times, and eventually overwhelms everything else and virtually dominates the movement in the final climax.

If this new theme is dismissed merely as a second subject and explained on the grounds of a need for contrast, it remains meaningless. But if, nevertheless, we feel something more in the movement, if the effect of the music gives us a vague sense of something significant, we might try to define what this is, and stop to consider a reason for the relations of these particular first and second subjects. Why, for instance, the peculiar nature of the new theme? Way does it, the second subject, grow to such importance at the end? And why the Tchaikovskian theme at the beginning?

Let us suppose that the surging figure in the 'cellos and violas is an essential part of the second subject, and not simply a "figure of accompaniment", and let us suppose that this makes one think of forests, of a kind of force suggested by the forests; or, if you like, anything to which the idea of a surging, simply, can be applied. But to imagine a surging we must think of some image, of something concrete which does surge, and here forests are suggested by association with Finland. Any such image will be symbolical, and not thought of for its own sake. We do not think of it finally as forests—it can be interpreted differently, for the forests themselves are symbolical. Over these a motive appears, as though arising out of them, a strange and new force, or a very old one, strong and with unescapable persistence. Mr. Cecil Gray, writing of the first symphony, points out that the principal subjects are Russian in character, while the subsidiary ones are distinctively Finnish, and suggests that the "atmosphere of storm and conflict which pervades the entire work ... presents a symbolical picture of Finnish insurrection against Russian tyranny and oppression." The finale of the second symphony might be interpreted in the same way. The Finnish second subject is this time more insistent and inevitable, and represents a deeper force in contrast to the flamboyant triumph and outward pomp of the first theme. If we accept Mr. Gray's interpretation, this contrast of Russian and Finnish is in its turn symbolical of history. These two kinds of force, interpret them how we will, stand in a certain relationship, the whole power of which is that it is symbolic. But we must imagine them in terms of a concrete symbolic idea, otherwise they are abstract, meaningless, and not powerfully appreciable as a sense-picture.

A symbolic analysis should be designed to open out a world of relationships, and accommodate our minds to the realities of musical experience. The terms which we use will have to be as general as possible, so long as they express these relationships. But if they do not hit off exactly the right relationship, though this should always be the aim, they may nevertheless be of value in revealing a certain amount. The aim of such analysis is to make us more fully conscious of all that is contained in music, and that is very largely overlooked, in the same way that a painter reveals unsuspected aspects of things that we have under our noses every day, but do not otherwise see. The critic must search for the imagery which best expresses the conditions in the music, and he interprets the music in terms of this as the ballet-dancer interprets it in terms of figures and movements, being in this sense to a certain extent an artist. The language or imagery he uses must be regarded in the proper light, simply as convenient devices, excellently defined by J. W. Dunne:

"Analytical devices are merely instruments for rendering manifest differences and relations which, without such assistance, would remain concealed. But unless these are already there, waiting to be brought to light, the analytical device can exhibit nothing new. It is true that such contrivances may describe phenomena in a language of their own—as the mercury column in a thermometer indicates degrees of temperature in terms of divisions of height, or as the mathematician represents variables in terms of x and y—but that does not affect the question."

It is useless therefore to say, as Mr. Heseltine did, that "Music cannot be translated into terms of anything other than itself", for this is a truism that applies to everything equally, but is not a valid reason for abolishing speech. The erroneous idea of "pure" or "abstract" music is responsible for the prevailing prejudice against any but a stereotyped academic analysis of music, and is caused by an inadequate understanding of aesthetics. In so far as it aims at refuting "programme" music, it is based upon correct judgment; but it goes to the other extreme and, in reaction against the completely objective, describes music as completely subjective, or pure abstraction. "Pure" music would be of no more value than "pare" poetry in the sense of poetry in words of no meaning. The poetry of Mallarmé was pure in the sense of dealing in pure ideas, or sensory allusions of a purely symbolic character, and to present a pure idea, such as whiteness, as a symbol of sterility or absence, he started from the imagination of a definite white object, such as the sheet of paper in front of him. Programme music, and much more so, verse which relates a story, portrays a succession of events, not of pure ideas in a symbolic relationship. But if music contains no ideas, it is either completely physical, and therefore not an art, or it is entirely senseless.

We can greatly enjoy music without giving any thought to analysing it, and in doing so we are enjoying it on the emotional plane, in terms of the direct sense-impact. As there are planes of symbolism and rhythm, so there are planes of appreciation, and in listening to a symphony on this plane we enjoy only each part as it occurs in a general emotional line. The fact of such enjoyment invites investigation and leads, when we see the reason for it, to a much more complete enjoyment; we reach important conclusions which can be applied on higher planes, to embrace whole complex forms; and we become conscious of the symbolic significance of many details in their relations to the whole. The "Study of Symbols" embarked upon by Schering shows the way to a much more discerning and useful method of musical analysis which, in turn, affects thought in general. Our habits of intellectual abstraction cause us to overtook a great deal in all spheres of life, and in music "what we are accustomed to lose", he writes, "is sharpness of the sense for the physiological charms of music, for example for rhythms, tonal distinctions, dynamics and tone-colouring". The subjectivity which came to prevail in the “disenchanted modern world" resulted in the worship of the personality of the artist or composer, whose works were regarded primarily as individual expressions, and this saved thinking and being clear over the "causes which lead to emotion. The ability to think in symbols was lost, and was replaced by a distinctly impoverished theory of art, a one-sided teaching of feeling". This subjective shift of balance to the emotional side of music was Romanticism, a feeling for the isolated moment for its own sake, for the individual only, where a great many of the most effective possibilities of musical expression were ignored. It coincided with the replacement of contrapuntal by harmonic thought, with the loss of form, and resulted in music of limited application and profundity, which very quickly wears out, music in two dimensions only, as it were, of which a great deal has already become dated. Today the balance is being restored, and there is emerging in music a new sense of the strange power of the symbolical; the work of Arnold Schering is significant as the first step towards a conscious method of analysis in keeping with this.