Rhythm

 

The house of music has three doors, melody, harmony, and rhythm. Depending on the musical period and style, these three elements can present themselves in different ways and in different relationships to each other. In most music, all three doors lead to the same place, like spokes on a wheel, and all three doors work with each other to fully express themselves and the music.

Melody manifests itself in time and hence creates melodic rhythm, and melody can imply harmonies. Conversely, harmonies can suggest a roadmap for melody to follow. The progression of harmony through time creates its own rhythm—harmonic rhythm.

Rhythm requires sound to be heard or felt, hence rhythm in not independent of sound—sound in the form of pitch and duration.

It has been my experience that apart from the study of percussion, the study of rhythm is often given a backseat in the study of music. Teachers of classical, jazz, and popular music all too often assume that if the student can count out music notation correctly and play notes and chords in time, then their work with rhythm is either complete and that the student can then automatically find the right feeling of the rhythm on their own. This is especially true in the instruction of folk, pop, blues, and jazz. Emphasis is placed on the chords and chords progressions, while the rhythm of the strums and picking patterns is given short shrift.

Many years ago, when I was performing on the folk circuit in Chicago, Illinois, my path often crossed with that of a folk blues artist called Blind Jim Brewer. Jim would begin and end every set with the same song, I’ll Fly Away. It’s a simple song and Jim’s guitar playing emphasized the bass notes of the chords on beats one and three of the measure which he followed with a strong downstroke of the strings on beats two and four. Both the chords and the strum, often called the Carter Family Strum, are something that even an advanced beginner can easily handle. But what could not be duplicated was the effect that Jim’s playing had on his audiences.

Without exception, on every occasion that I observed, whether in coffee houses or college campuses, within moments of him beginning to play this song people began to smile, tap their feet, and clap along to the music. Little children would even begin to dance.

What was it about Jim’s playing that caused this to happen? I believe the answer lies in the power and meaning of living rhythm. Living rhythm is something far beyond playing music in time, it comes within and finds expression through the body.

I recall that James Joyce in his, A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man, said, “Rhythm in art is the relationship that exists between the whole and its parts, the relationship that exists between any part and another part within the whole, and the relationship that exists between any part and the whole.” This definition applies equally to all the arts, music, poetry, sculpture, painting, and dance, as well as to life in general, creation, the movement of the stars and planets, and the proportions of the human body and even the makeup of the mind.

Kahlil Gibran spoke about Jesus through the character of Mary Magdeline, “When I saw him in the garden, He moved like none other—he moved as if his every part loved every part of Himself.” – (paraphrase).

Relationship and love, they seem to go together, but how does that make us better musicians and specifically better at rhythm? As a teacher and a musician, it just doesn’t seem appropriate to leave it at that. There must be some practical way to study and practice rhythm. Metronomes and counting will only lead us so far. The “play it like this” approach used by many teachers perhaps takes one a bit further, but I wonder if the most practical approach may turn out to be the one that at first appears to be the least practical and the most impossible to teach or learn, and that is love—love for the music, love for others, and love for oneself?

Above the entrance to Meher Baba’s tomb in India is written, “Mastery in Servitude,” and somewhere in the scriptures it is said, “There was a time when the kingdom of Heaven could be taken by force, but those days are gone. Now the way to the Kingdom of Heaven is through love.”

As a fortunate teacher and performer of classical guitar, I have had the opportunity to attend many guitar concerts. I have seen the best the genre has to offer, and I have observed something very unique about the concerts of Andre Segovia. I saw it manifested in the audience during intermissions and at the end of his concerts.

Contrary to other artist’s concerts, during intermissions and after the concert when leaving the hall and the building, the audiences were generally quite talkative, commenting and discussing the performer, the performance, and the music, but the audiences attending the Segovia concerts were different. They tended to be much quieter, smiled more, talked less, and seemed to be more serene.

I observed this on many occasions, and I wondered why. I have concluded that the difference was due to how Segovia came to become a master musician. I believe he mastered the music by serving it, rather than by force of ego will, in other words, Mastery in Servitude through love.

Of course, love cannot be taught, but I have observed that it can be communicated. As Meher Baba said, love can be caught from those who have it. That love can manifest itself across all genres of music, it is not limited to the works of Bach or musicians like Horwitz and Segovia. It can also be found in the simple folk blues of Blind Jim Brewer and even the simple pop songs and singers of the 1950’s and 60’s.

So, it is love that brings the music to life, love that makes melody, harmony, and rhythm live. Love manifests through the hands and the voice of the musician, through the body of the musician.

Love and service are connected. By continuing to serve the needs of the music, by continuing to sacrifice for the needs of the music, one may gradually learn to love the music, and when love for the music is supported by successful work connected to learning the music, living with the music, and playing the music, the end result is that the musician is raised beyond himself, effaced, as it were, and the music soars to the highest levels of human endeavor.

Studs Terkel once asked Andre Segovia why, after becoming a true master of the music, he still continued to practice scales and other exercises daily. To this question Segovia replied, “Studs, I know I don’t have to remind you of the story of Jacob’s Ladder. Even though the angels had wings to fly, they still ascended and descended the ladder step by step.”

                                                                                                           (c) copyright, Michael Kovitz, 2023

 

 

 

Learning to Read Music with Comprehension

 

Reading music and understanding music are two quite different things. I’ve known players who read, I’ve known players who understand, and I’ve known players who do both.

Reading music without understanding is like learning to read a book without understanding what you’re reading. For a person such as this, how many books would they be inspired to read?

Understanding music is the most important thing, but without reading, access to new ideas, concepts, pieces, etc., is a lengthier and more difficult process. So why not learn to read music with comprehension?

I believe that the central problem lies in the way reading is usually taught. It can be boiled down to this, “When you see this note it is telling you how to play it on your instrument, i.e., what pitch and how long to hold it.” This is what I call rote reading. Rote reading means that you don’t know what the music is saying or how the music works. It’s like learning to read letters without understand the words, let alone understanding what those words are actually saying. It seems absurd that a person would read a book and not know the story, but that’s exactly what happens with rote reading. Again, I ask the question, for a person such as this, how many books would they be inspired to read?

But what if a person first learns a musical concept, let’s say natural whole steps and half steps, and then is taught how those steps are represented in musical notation, and then how they are created on their instrument? The same process can then apply to intervals, scales, chords, phrases, etc. In every case, the introduction of the musical idea precedes the musical notation. Learning to read music in this way, with comprehension, paves the way to creative and intelligent interpretation and expression as opposed to merely imitating the interpretations and expressions of others.

Andre Segovia once said, What the world does not need is another guitar player. What the world does need are musicians and artists who happen to play the guitar.” Rote reading and rote playing can never transcend the domain of the guitar player, but reading and playing with comprehension is in the domain of the musician and it is the domain of the musician that creates the foundation for the further development and expression of the artist.

“A real artist works at a level beyond both the guitar player and the musician yet embodies the highest attainments of both. Absorbed in the artistic sphere he creates works that are enduring and that assists humanity in its ongoing struggle to free itself from the bondage of ignorance and destructive self-interest. Through his works the artist, absorbed in the artistic sphere, distills the lessons of material life and its aspirations, and shapes them into an expression of life’s universal quest for meaning, fulfillment, and love.” – From Silence to Sound, by Michael Kovitz, Available from the author at fromsilencetosound142@gmail.com

                                                                                                                                  © copyright Michael Kovitz 3/2/21

 

Structural Awareness in Music

Seven levels of structural awareness can be found within a complete piece of music. From the smallest units to the largest they are:

(1) Individual sounds, (2) Intervals, (3) Triads and Chords, (4) Motives, Figures, or Music molecules, (5) Sub-phrases and Phrases, (6) Sections and (7) Movements.

All seven levels of structural awareness are most clearly identifiable in classical symphonies, concertos, and suites. Simpler forms, like songs and individual pieces, sometimes contain only five or six of these levels; while in the practices of composition of the Middle Ages, and the music of much of Renaissance music, the concept of triads and chords did not exist—even though contemporary musicians do hear and see these harmonies in the music of these earlier periods.

Structure and awareness go hand in hand— their connection can be understood in this way: A piece of music is made up of many different sounds; when one is aware of these different sounds, but not of the connections among them, then awareness is only of the first level of structure—the single sound. This is often the situation with beginners whose awareness is primarily involved with trying to read and play individual notes, i.e. “This is a c note, that is an e note,” etc.

The second level of structural awareness is about the relationship among the sounds, i.e. about intervals. Here one is aware, for example, that there is a relationship between a c note and an e note and this relationship is designated and understood as a major third. Add another level of structural awareness, i.e., the awareness of the relationship among three sounds, and we have the awareness of triads, and by extension, chords. As it is with sounds, intervals, and triads, so it is also with motives, phrases, sections, and movements.

A word of explanation is also warranted regarding my use of the term, music molecule. Within the domain of music, common corresponding terms are motive and figure. They all mean about the same thing. In his book, Fundamentals of Musical Composition, Arnold Schoenberg said;

“The motive generally appears in a characteristic and impressive manner at the beginning of a piece. The features of a motive are intervals and rhythms, combined to produce a memorable shape or contour which usually implies an inherent harmony. Inasmuch as almost every figure within a piece reveals some relationship to it, the basic motive is often considered the ‘germ’ of the idea.” – Fundamentals of Musical Composition, by Arnold Schoenberg, page 8

Personally, I often use all of these terms somewhat interchangeably, but I particularly like the term music molecule. In science, a molecule is the smallest amount of a substance that still retains all of the qualities and characteristics of that substance. Here, the word substance is consistent with the material that makes up the whole of a given piece of music and the term music molecule is the smallest structure within that whole that identifies the unique quality of that whole piece of music.

Take, for example, the great old song, “Autumn Leaves.” Merely hearing the first sound will not identify the piece, nor will hearing the second sound, nor will hearing the third. But the first four sounds, corresponding to the words, “The falling leaves,” will identify the song to anyone who is familiar with it. Those first four sounds, their duration, and the harmony they imply create the first molecule of the song we call Autumn Leaves that through the processes of repetition and variation exhibit most all of elements of melody, rhythm, and implied harmony that are heard throughout the song.

It has been my experience that merely playing the correct notes in correct time does not create a satisfying interpretation and expression of a piece of music, but that the awareness of each of the seven levels of structure that make up the whole of a piece of music leads to an understanding and subsequent interpretation and expression of a piece of music that can be both competent and aesthetically satisfying.

I believe that aware of the music molecules, their repetition and variation, and how they combine to form sub-phrases and phrases, which, in turn, combine to form sections and then movements, is the key to that elusive quality that is called musicality. 

Listen to the first four notes, the first music molecule, of Autumn Leaves. This music molecule consisting of the words, “The falling leaves,” is followed by five notes corresponding to the words, “drift by the window.” Notice that those five notes have the same intervallic relationship as the first four notes corresponding to the words, “The falling leaves.” What makes them sound different is that the second five notes begins a whole step lower than the first four and the whole note that ends the first molecule is divided into two half notes in the second in order to accommodate the two syllable word, window.

Some might ask if the second molecule is a repetition or a variation of the first molecule. Personally I favor repetition, though I would not argue too strongly if someone preferred variation. What I think is more important, however, is that the two molecules are in an antecedent/consequent relationship, in other words, the second molecule is a response and completion of the first molecule. The antecedent/consequent relationship is so prevalent in all music that it is nearly impossible to conceive of music that does not exhibit it. It is found to connect molecules, phrases, sections, and even movements.

In Autumn Leaves, the first two molecules, corresponding to the words, the falling leaves and the words drift by the window, make up the first sub-phrase which is then followed by the second sub-phrase containing the words, the autumn leaves of red and gold. Notice that these two sub-phrases are also in an antecedent/consequent relationship, and that the first molecule of the second sub-phrase is a repetition of the very first molecule of the song, beginning on a note that is one-half step lower than the second molecule.

The next line, the autumn leaves, repeats the first molecule a whole step below the notes corresponding to the words, drift by the window and are then followed by a variation of the molecule corresponding to the words, of red and gold. That completes the first sentence of text and the first eight measure phrase consisting of two four measure phrases in an antecedent/consequent relationship.

Here, a phrase is taken to mean a musical sentence. A grammatical sentence needs a subject, verb, and object, for example, the sentence, “I went home.” Notice the similarity, but also the difference, between a phrase and a music molecule. A phrase is a complete thought, like a sentence, but a music molecule, though being the smallest unit that identifies the unique quality of that whole piece of music, is not, in itself, enough to make a musical sentence—a phrase.  

The next phrase of the song, “Autumn Leaves,”  corresponding to the words, I see your lips, the summer kisses, the sun-burned hands, I used to hold, is an exact repetition of the first phrase, but with a variation of the final (cadential) measure.

Which leads us to the second section—the bridge—beginning with the words, since you went away... This is a new molecule, and though it retains the three note step-wise movement found throughout the molecules of the first verse, the second part of this new molecule introduces a melodic skip from a chord tone to a non-harmonic tone and then returns to the same chord tone. The name of this particular type of non-harmonic tone is called a free tone. It resembles and auxiliary tone in that it is between two chord tones that are the same pitch, but differs from the auxiliary tone in that its distance from the chord tone is more than a step.

The next three music molecules, variations of the first, and  corresponding to the three groupings of words, since you went away, the days grow long, and and so I’ll hear, exhibit this same  free tone shape found in the first molecule of the bridge. The phrase ends with the words, old winter’s song, and the cadential consequent of the third molecule.

The next phrase of the bridge is the consequent of the first phrase of the bridge. It corresponds to the words; but I miss you most of all, my darling, when autumn leaves start to fall, and exhibit the greatest contrast, in the melodic, rhythmic, and harmonic materials that compose its music molecules.

Of great importance to the discussion of music molecules is the observation that the majority of all music molecules do not begin on the first beat of a measure not do they end on the last beat of a measure. Music molecules can be seen to exist over and between bar-lines while the harmonies often tend to change at the bar-lines. Failure to appreciate this distinction creates numerous problems.

For example, notice that in “Autumn Leaves,” the first music molecule that begins the song starts on the & of beat one of the first measure and ends on the first beat of the third measure. The second music molecule then begins on beat two of that measure and ends on beat one of measure five. But the chords, the harmonies that accompany this melody consistently change on the first beat of each measure. Hence, the music molecules begin after the chord changes, not on the chord changes. 

Amateur ensembles often have trouble with the timing of this song, trying to start the music molecules on the chord changes rather than after them. It would be like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole by filing down the edges of the square peg. Yet, the tension that exists between harmonies and melodies is one of the most important factors that contribute to a good piece of music.

Another common mistake made by amateur musicians and ensembles is the failure to appreciate the importance of the caesura—the moment between music molecules, phrases, sections, and movements of a piece of music. What is a moment and what is time? They are both states of awareness—interconnected and yet, independent of each other. We commonly think of time in terms of past, present, and future, but, a moment just is and has no specific measurement in time and has no past or future. A moment only exists in the eternal present.

In music, we establish time by designating tempos and measure time in units of beats and measures. But because the caesura exists outside of time, as a moment, it cannot be found in the beats and measures that measure the music. But it can be felt, and when the caesura is expressed by a great musician, it is always found to make the music feel right.

Segovia once told a student, “Both the good musician and the bad musician disrespects the music (notation), the difference is in how they disrespect it.”  The caesura disrespects the literal notation of tempo, beat, and measure, but when handled correctly, the caesura respects the music that is being indicated by the notation—the music that is the very reason for the notation.

As a musician my aim is to play music in such a way as to share the depth of joy that I feel while I’m playing it, and as a teacher, to help my students do the same. It is my conviction that knowledge plays a role in this process, but that knowledge has to be distilled and integrated into an almost instinctive feeling that goes beyond words and ideas.

I believe that listening is one of the keys to this distillation—listening more and more, and studying more and more, the works of great composers and great musicians.  Also, we should not forget the importance of listening more and more, and understanding more and more, one’s own music, for, in fact, we can really only play what we hear, and what we hear is not just defined by the physical organ ear, but is the result of the cultivated impressions of the mind that responds to and interprets the auditory sensations relayed through it through the ear, to the mind, and ultimately on to the Infinite soul that the body and the mind serve.

Music is a beautiful thing, the deeper one goes into it, the more beautiful it becomes, and the more amazing is the experience—amazing and fulfilling—and as in all things, the key is love.

“My teacher was telling the story, but he was the story itself. It was about Mr. Kubadi and Johann Sebastian Bach, the lover and the beloved, and God’s original question—‘Who am I?’ And it was about me too—and it was about love.” –  From Silence to Sound – Richard Kyle’s Journey to Musical Competency, by Michael Kovitz, page 73 (Available through the author at mekovitz@gmail.com).

  

                                                                                                            © Copyright, Michael Kovitz, 2017