Last week I gave my final Masters recital – it’s been whirlwind in preparation and after the rectial – so please accept this 25 minute video detailing the process of planning, prepping, and challenges along the way of making my recital possible in lieu of a linear blog post.

And here is my recital:

The week this post will be live is also the same week I will be performing Frank Martin’s Ballade for my final Masters’ recital. Given the priority of recording – over live rehearsals – I have been able to be much more detail focused on this piece than I could have ever been in ‘normal’ times. This is not an easy piece by an means; if you are not familiar with the work allow me to break down the sections and shed some insight on what I’ve learned over the past few months.

Let’s start with the composer: Frank Martin. He is a Swiss composer who lived from 1890-1974 and he studied piano and composition with J. Lauber. Early on he was influenced by French composers – in the early 20th century, the distinct impressionist style of French music such as by Faure. Around the 1930s he also studied with Arnold Schoenberg; the culminating of these contrasting composing styles finally came together in the late 1930s. Gerhard Braun’s notes in the Universal score put it best, “these compositions blend twelve-tone technique and functional harmony, frequent use of ostinato and pedal point, the incorporation of perfect major and minor triads and exploitation of the melodic and harmonic tensions generated by the leading note and the tonic.”

Frank Martin’s Ballade was originally written for flute and piano when composed in 1939; it was composed to be premiered at the Geneva International Music Competition of that same year. Several years later, in 1941, the Ballade was adapted for flute and orchestra.

Before getting into the piece, and honorable mention is Paula Robison’s Masterclass: Frank Martin Ballade pour flute et piano. This book – as the title would suggest – workshops the Ballade and is a great resource for anyone who either loves to listen to the piece or intends on performing it. I won’t recap much of what she says within my own analysis because I think Robison writes so concisely; however, the use of medieval poetry (speech patterns) is something worth looking into when studying the Ballade.

The first question is: how do we section the Ballade? Generally the tempo markings indicate a change in texture, timbre, or color; the ones that I regard as significant are as follows:

  • Allegro ben moderato (the opening-m.43)
  • Vivace (m. 44-94) / Half = Dotted Half (m. 95-153)
  • Cadenza (m. 154-193)
  • Lento (m. 194-199) / Con moto (m. 200-272)
  • Presto (m. 273-282) / Molto vivace (m. 283-323)
  • Meno mosso / Presto (m. 324-358)

What interesting is that when broken up into 6 sections of similar lengths the form resembles in a warped mirror.

Like an: A B C-C B’ A’

The material from the Allegro ben moderato returns at the very end in the Meno mosso – slightly distorted; the material in the Molto Vivace comes BEFORE the Meno mosso with a varied version of the original Vivace motives. The Cadenza and the Lento / Con moto sections act as the mirror or the axis for the larger A and B themes to reflect.

A: Allegro ben moderato (m. 1-43)

The work opens with the conversational eighth note motive. There is no real tonal center – a la Schoenberg – however, this is NOT a tone row either… so what is it? There are three 2 bar sets within the opening: (1) G A Bb F#; (2) F# E# G# A (3) B# B A# Gx. The only discernible pattern is that each time there is a move upward by a half step such as from G to G# to Gx.

The cyclic eighth notes are broken by a register change – which is another trademark of the piece. And you will notice that following that break that the beaming changes from 6 to two groups of 3. Where Martin is setting up the 2 v 3 (and 3 v 2) between the flute and piano early on. In measure 11, there is a ‘new’ beginning on new pitches, however, this does not proceed the same way we heard it the first time because another set of two groups of 3 interrupt the motive and propel the flute line into a syncopated, extreme interval idea.

One more time we get a ‘new’ beginning, this time a half step higher than the last (m. 11) and now the roles are reverse where the flute is playing the 2 while the piano has 3.

We get more intervals mixed in with short 2 bar snippets of the transposed opening motive before our first set of sixteenth notes ascends to the climax of the opening which falls down with syncopations into the Piu Tranquillo. The piano is back to playing 2s (more of a 6/8) while the flute is playing in 3/4 on a single note that is syncopated, maintaining that conversational element from the very opening of the section.

B: Vivace / Half = Dotted Half (m. 44-153)

This next section is interesting, mostly because of the Half = Dotted Half section which is simultaneously stable and unstable. At first glance it may seem odd to roll that section into B however it juxtaposes the section to create this contrast to the high energy; the calmness/song-like line of the Half = Dotted Half is like a delayed echo to the abundance of material the Vivace throws at us. This echo is reinforced too, by m. 147-148, which is a transposed version of the Vivace‘s m. 62-63.

Both the tempo and rhythm contrast the opening A section. The tempo increase is initiated by the piano and then the flute spring boards with new (small unit) rhythms. Compared to the A section which heavily used eighth notes, the B section as sixteenths and an abundance of triplet figures.

The Half = Dotted Half section may seem calm (notated ‘dolce cantabile’) compared to the first half of the B section; however the 2 over 3 (flute in 2/4 and piano in 3/4) is just a small sample of Martin playing with polyrhythms.

And the B section ends with a return to the primary material – the eighths [rest] sixteenth figure – that leaps to the high E6.

Cadenza (m. 154-193)

The cadenza restates the resonant E octave leap that ended the B section. A similar style reminiscent of the A section is recycled in the initial ‘moderato’ – this time playing with the interval of a half step reinforced as a sort of palindrome (reinforcing the mirror analogy).

This introduction intensifies and then suddenly steps back at the second ‘moderato’ with a contrasting piano dynamic a tritone lower than the opening E6. This new section is a sort of ‘haze’ or smoke and mirrors – at least in a tonal sense – as Martin reinforces the pedal Ab as well as (one half step down) G while altering the subsequent pitches. The pitches held on fermatas may indicate some type of stabilizing the tonal center, however, it is an illusion – as Martin does not feature one area for too long. One of these illusions is the recurring A – C – F:

As you can see from the score, this instances are fleeting.

C: Lento / Con moto (m. 194-272)

If you thought Martin may finally resolve to F… you’d be close, he choses to start the Lento on F#… but then of course if you refer to the piano score he writes a G# (a M2) to shatter any tonal security.

This is all new material both the Lento and Con moto contrast everything from the A and B sections by providing a moment of stasis in the music; and this works – or at least is able to hold interest – because of the diverse array of pitches he is using in the flute and piano lines. And corresponding, once the tonal center is more stable, Martin returns (briefly) to the A material where he expands the eighth note patterns in several ways (1) articulation patterns (2) intervals and (3) rests/syncopations.

This section ends with lively triplets (used in a different way than they have been in the B section) as they are constant, in a chromatic pattern rolling upwards to a high C7 on the downbeat of the Presto.

B’: Presto / Molto Vivace (m. 273-323)

The piano responds to the high energy, before scaling back and bringing us around to the reflection of the mirror B’ or the Molto vivace.

The first difference is the flute entrance in m. 287-290 on the tied notes and with the graces. Then, Martin alters the articulation pattern for the triplets and abridges the pattern so that the climax arrives at the peak of the energy of the triplet section.

And this climax is amazingly simple – just B Bb and A – in different rhythms.

A’: Meno mosso / Presto (m. 324-358)

Finally, the B Bb A resolves to a G# continuing the downward half step trajectory; and after a brief sequence, the introductory theme comes back in a new ‘key’ with the transformative elements from the C section of articulation and intervals. In the ‘animando’ Martin blends the triplets from the B section into the texture continuing to play with intervals. Again, we see the tritone – Ab to D this time.

What do you think of the Ballade? My recital will have a live premiere on Sunday April 18th at 5PM – feel free to stop in to hear the Ballade which is on the first half of the program!

Preparing for my final Masters recital in April 2021, I am starting to cycle through that repertoire both new and old. I also started Suzuki teacher training in October 2020 so as we start 2021 I am beginning the training for Book 2!

  • Telemann – Sonata in f minor 41:f1

Today this sonata is more commonly heard on bassoon; one of the challenges of preparing this piece is finding reference recordings since most of the available ones are on recorder or bassoon. The international edition is by no means the best edition – plentiful errors in both flute and piano parts. However the free online editions are also riddled with errors so it can be difficult have a reputable reference score to start and then add embellishments.

  • Bach – Sonata in E Major (BWV 1035)

The authorship of this sonata is still being debated by music historians – many of the sonatas initially attributed to JS Bach are now thought to be written (at least in majority) by CPE Bach. This is the Barenreiter edition follows the original articulation of the manuscript – leaving out “obvious” patterns that the Bachs (whichever composed this Sonata in E) expected the perform to intuitively know. As a result, careful listening and score analysis is essential for creating articulation patterns that closely follow the style of this piece.

  • Ibert – Piece for Solo Flute

This piece starts with a cadenza-like introduction that centers around the note “D”. Like Ibert’s well known Flute Concerto (composed 2 years prior), this piece is good for demonstrating virtuosity and freeness in playing. Despite studying at the Paris Conservatory, Ibert didn’t emulate any of the popular genres during the early 20th century, and in this piece you can hear how he’s style transforms multiple styles rather than honing in on just one.

  • Martin – Ballade

Frank Martin is a Swiss composer; this 20th century work is comprised of several sections (sometimes considered “movements”) that contrast registers, tonality, tempo, and meter. One notable features of Ballade is the contrast of meter/rhythm between the flute and piano particularly measure 95 when the flute is in 2/4 and the piano is in 3/4.

  • Prokofiev – Sonata in D op. 94

This edition includes both the violin transcription along with the flute line – being aware that there are variations (and other editions of the piece) was really important when studying and listening to the piece before practicing. The infamous D7s are just one of the challenges this piece presents where the goal is for them to blend into the ascending arpeggio pattern.

  • Suzuki Book 2

The second volume of the Suzuki Flute Book builds upon the more advanced concepts of Book 1 (which ends with the Handel Bourée which is in the key of G and features many sequences. Volume 2 stays in the Baroque era for awhile starting with Gluck, Bach, and Beethoven and gradually moves into the 19th century.

What’s on your stand?

What should I being doing? Should I take a semester of leave? My student teaching placement just fell through – what are schools going to do? How can we even have ensembles or chamber groups?

These are the thoughts that my colleagues and I have been discussing for months – mainly as a coping mechanism since there is really nothing we can do to change the situation. I live and go to school in New Jersey so I can only speak on what my experience has been here – I can not speak for other states and countries experiences with quarantine and the process of reopening things.

When everything shut down in March 2020, my school was on our spring break – which got extended an extra week when our governor, Phil Murphy, mandated that universities cease in-person meetings. It was scary – a recital was looming, our first spring concert was only a week away, and I am a graduate performance student… how was I meant to perform if we couldn’t be together? I managed to preserve through the Spring 2020 semester. My recital (originally a chamber music program scheduled for April 1st) drastically changed to all solo repertoire and was moved to May 13th. Our orchestra concerts didn’t happen… chamber groups didn’t happen… At the time, I thought to myself that there must be another way for us to create. We can’t just stop performing. But we did, at least for that semester. And now as we are rapidly approaching the Fall 2020 semester I am left with more questions than answers:

Are ensembles going to happen at all? Are auditions happening at all? Are lessons going to continue online? Are chamber groups going to be formed? Are my classes going to be remote or hybrid? Will those classes be asynchronous? Are recitals happening? Will I be able to work? How am I going to survive? Should I just take a semester off?

I hope someone out there can relate to these feelings and know that you are not alone in this.

In New Jersey, we are still trying to figure out what to do with schools come September. Our governor left it open for K-12 public school districts to determine their communities’ needs on a case-by-case basis, but with state universities there is a much larger pool of students. International students and out-of-state students will not have to determine whether or not they feel safe or supported enough to continue their education or wait until some breakthrough allows people to feel safe meeting again (which who knows how long we will have to wait to see that). Especially considering – as a performer – that Broadway and the NY Philharmonic have ceased their performances until 2021 at the earliest, the future for the Fall 2020 semester is looking bleak. And the part of the worry is that no one has answers. No one knows when it will be ‘safe’ again.

Yes, there are virtual learning options, but in the arts it can feel like a fate worse than death. We have this desire to communicate and create with others, but using technology to do so feels like we are removing ourselves, putting up barriers, closing ourselves off. There are technological issues, delays, and a whole lot more effort than the time before quarantine. Is it worth it?

If we want to keep the arts alive… yes. We need to be willing to adapt and be innovative given the current situation to pave the way for a safe future. But it will be tough.

I recently had a conversation with a non-music friend about looking at COVID-19 in the grand scheme of things. I said something like this to her, “You know… we aren’t even half way through this.”

And she said back to me, “What do you mean?”

I elaborated, “We’ve only been in quarantine for 4 months – March to July. We still have 5 more months until December… we aren’t half way through this.”

To which she replied, “You really think quarantine is going to last the rest of the year?”

We continued to talk, and between us (of course, these conversations are merely for our morale and not some factual, data-based TEDTalk) we came to the conclusion that we could be like this until March of 2021. What is ‘this’ by the way, well in New Jersey ‘this’ refers to: not being able to go out in public without a mask, maintaining proper social distancing of 6ft or more, not being able to physically greet people, not being able to meet with friends indoors, keeping small friendship bubbles that follow the same strict quarantine guidelines that you follow, spending a lot of time at home, doing the majority of your work from home, etc.

That was harrowing for the both of us as young 20-something-year olds. To think that we haven’t even made it over the worst part. Where is the motivation to keep working? That is a question I have found myself pondering: I am working on all of these things, but why? What am I working towards?

I’ll be honest – I can’t even say for sure what goal I am actually working towards. I feels like one of those dreams that you just keep falling and then you wake up clammy with your heart racing. At the moment, I am holding out the hope that my colleagues and professors do not give up during the Fall 2020 semester. I hope that we adapt and navigate this strange situation together… the best we can.

The solution is to be persistent, insistent and… some other word ending in -sistent. We need the arts to thrive, especially in a time where people are suffering physically and emotionally. I recently saw a post going around online; it was a picture of a sign that read, “Why should we go to school if you won’t listen to the educated”. I laughed when I first saw it. But why should we go to school?

I go to school for community. I go to school because I want to be exposed to new things. I go to school because I get to experience things I wouldn’t have in my hometown. Those are just a few reasons. I don’t go to school for others, I go to school for myself.

To be persistent for me is to preserve through these unknown waters and see it to the other side (think like Moana – a movie I finally watched during quarantine). And to be insistent for me is to not let others or the world’s pandemic stop me from from pursuing something that brings me joy. Yes, I believe it is nonsensical to meet in groups of 30 people and play in an ensemble, but my insistent is finding a way to make it work given the new rules we have to play by.

What brings you joy?

In my MISC blog post for July 2020, I list several performances that have brought me comfort and joy. Ranging from Elgar’s Nimrod (from the Enigma Variations) to Rimsky Korsakov’s 3rd movement of Scheherazade. As music majors (whether we are focused on education, performance, composition, therapy, etc) one of the core elements is creating.

While listening to performances may be a good bandaid for a short time, it isn’t much help when what we really need (in this metaphorical sense) are stitches. What are some ways you can tap into that creativity?

  • Chamber music – yes, chamber music as we know it will be on hold for a while. That doesn’t have to prevent us from playing it: whether you are playing with a recording of your self, collaborating with someone else virtually, or playing with a track someone else recorded. The process of creating music can still be collaborative.
  • Notation software – maybe you picked up Sibelius for one orchestration class and just left it to collect dust after your final project. Notation software is great for a plethora of reasons: Musescore, for example, has an online database where you can find arrangements of music (in the even you want to do a chamber piece, but don’t have the right instrumentation). You can also take you current repertoire and put it in and listen back to – especially if the piece is for your instrument and another – this can help you be more actively aware of what other parts are doing and how everything fits into the larger picture.
  • Take up a secondary instrument or find a way to push yourself out of your comfort zone on your own instrument. As a music education student, if you have access to a secondary instrument, this is probably the best time you have to really hone in on an instrument outside of your primary area – take advantage of it! If you don’t have access to an instrument, consider extended techniques or repertoire that you are less comfortable with.
  • Explore other music technology. Being familiar with recording software – BandLab, Garage Band, Audacity – can be extremely beneficial even after the pandemic is over. Likewise, learning what kinds of recorders/microphones are on the market and being knowledgeable of their pros and cons.

How are you feeling during this pandemic? What has your experience been thus far and how are you coping? What are you hopes and plans for the upcoming semester? And what are you doing to be creative?

On May 13, 2020, I gave my first ‘recital’ as a Masters student. My recital was initially planned for April 1st and the repertoire was WAY different I had a lot of chamber music programmed that couldn’t happen given the COVID-19 pandemic – all the music learned in my recital was done in less than a month (minus the Honegger).

Here we will be looking at excerpts from the 4 pieces on my program and how I approach theory and analysis – especially with an very short time frame to research, analyze and really take in the framework of these pieces. The 4 pieces being J.S. Bach’s Partita in a minor I. Allemande, Jacques Ibert’s Pièce for solo flute, Arthur Honegger’s Danse De La Chèvre, and Paul Hindemith’s Acht Stücke.

J.S. Bach Partita in a minor, Allemande

Recital notes: I will only be playing the first movement, the Allemande, from Bach’s Partita in a minor. However, each movement of this work refers to a dance. The allemande being a German style dance… Bach did not actually give a specific tempo as the performer would be very familiar with the dances during the Baroque period and would be able to play in that style. As this piece is for solo flute, the demands of the music are to act as the melody, harmony and bass all in one. There are also no rests or places to breathe marked by Bach, so the phrasing utilized in shaping the melody, harmony, and bass are imperative in creating natural space to breathe.

As the title would suggest, the Partita is in a minor. The first page of the Allemande uses the root (A) and third (C) on the stronger beats 1 and 3 to outline the minor tonality. Because the piece is for solo flute, the flute is acting as the melody, harmony and bass. Therefore, one of the compositional techniques Bach uses to keep momentum and engagement is through sequences. Sequences are taught to young children as a math principle: find the pattern and figure out what comes next. Musical sequences work similarly, they can be seen as a repeating pattern between intervals (melody) or rhythm units. In this excerpt, although there are repeated 16th notes (as seen throughout the entire movement), the motive is bracketed in green. From m. 14-15 the intervals are very similar (not always exactly, but the motive is still distinguishable) denoting a mostly chromatic sequence. The motive in the first group is G-F#-E-G, goes down to F#-E-D-F#, down to E-D-C-E, and ends on D#-B-C-A. By the end group, the intervals have strayed from the original group, but the placement of the notes G, F#, E, and D# on the strong beats (1 and 3) are prominent enough to draw the ear to their downwards motion. A similar sequence happens in m. 16, but is much more concise. The ascending chromatic pattern in m. 16 is G-G#-A-A# on each beat in the measure. Finally, a new pattern emerges m. 16-17 where the final 16th leads to the first 16th of the next beat. The E resolves down to D#, D natural down to C#, C natural to B, and finally Bb to A.

In this next excerpt, the tonality has shifted. It is common in Baroque music to modulate from the tonic to the dominant key, and then to eventually return to the tonic (the dominant in a minor is E Major). This excerpt is fully in the dominant (E Major) section: note the V4/3 over IV (which translates to a E seventh chord in 2nd inversion moving to an A Major chord) which is the pivot from em (denoted by the i) to EM. 

Like in the first excerpt, there is another sequence feature – this one is directly related to the Circle of Fifths. Measure 23 starts the sequence in E Major (1), m. 24 moves to A Major (IV), m. 25 is d minor 6/5 (vii6/5), m. 26 D Major 7 (VII7) LET’S PAUSE… I provided the Roman Numerals in parenthesis to denote the chords’ function in the dominant E Major. However, look at m. 25 and 26, the first red flag should be the different qualities of the 7 (D). In Major chord progressions, the 7 is usually fully-diminished so the fact that is is minor and then Major should be getting those alarm bells going. Hence, why this section can be looked as a sequence within the Circle of Fifths: E to A to d (D)… rather than a common chord progression. Continuing our sequence, m. 27 is in G Major which is extended all the way to m. 29 until our sequence ends in m. 30 in C Major. The sequence ends there because if you look at the following measure, the harmonic rhythm (or the rate at which the harmony changes) drastically increases and moves to a tonal area that does not fit in the Circle of Fifth sequence. 

Jacques Ibert Pièce for solo flute

Recital notes: Coincidentally, Ibert’s Piece for solo flute was composed in the same year as the Hindemith Sonata I mentioned earlier. This piece starts with a cadenza-like introduction that centers around the note “D”. Like Ibert’s well known Flute Concerto (composed 2 years prior), this piece is good for demonstrating virtuosity and freeness in playing. Despite studying at the Paris Conservatory, Ibert didn’t emulate any of the popular genres during the early 20th century, and in this piece you can hear how he’s style transforms multiple styles rather than honing in on just one.

Ibert was an early 20th century composer – a time were tonality was less rigid, an the exploration of serialism and atonality were becoming commonplace. The Pièce for solo flute goes through many tonal areas – like mentioned in my recital notes the opening is a cadenza-style featuring the note “D”; and the remainder of page one doesn’t strictly follow a traditional key/tonal center. In this first excerpt, the 9/8 “Vivo” is the first time in the piece that Ibert emphasizes a tonal area -in this case Db Major (the diatonic notes are Db Eb F Gb Ab Bb C). Here I used green to visualize all the notes that were diatonic (in the key of Db) and any non-chord tone or chromatic note is highlighted in orange. By doing this, it is very easy to see the patterns within what may look daunting at first glance, especially in a key of 5 flats.

This next excerpt from Ibert’s Pièce is building a climatic resolution on the final page (visually, you can tell those tiny 32nd notes are going somewhere). Our last excerpt was in Db Major, this one has moved to a tonicization (not a fully-fledge modulation) of the IV (Gb Major) – this is clear because of the downward arpeggios (the yellow denoting notes diatonic to Gb). The ‘F’s are functioning as a supertonic or a 7th scale degree that is creating a rising tension. The swells on the 6s to 7s to 9s emphasizing the 7th briefly calm down for 2 measures before a sequence of minor 3s ascends to an E natural where the piece relaxes (and resolves) to return to a familiar theme stated in the beginning of the piece.

Arthur Honegger Danse De La Chèvre

Recital notes: This is the earliest 20th century piece on my program, composed by Arthur Honegger in 1921. The title Danse de la Chevre translates to Dance of the Goat. The piece starts very delicate with a series of tritone phrases – as if the goat is just waking up from a dream. Quickly, the “goat-like” or more active theme comes during the Vif or the 9/8 section with a skipping/dancing goat. At the end, the piece returns to the delicateness and serenity of the introduction, as the goat has tired itself out and is going back to sleep.

Important to note that there are several versions of Honegger’s Danse De La Chevre that are in circulation this particular score is from the 1932 edition. The piece was composed in the early 20th century and the intervallic relations (and lack of tonality) are indicative of Honegger embracing serialism.

The opening motive is highlighted in purple and it lasts 2 bars (each time it is restated it uses the opening 4 notes to lure you in before launching into a new idea). This motive starts with a tritone (TT) from C to F# and is followed by two Perfect 4s. And interesting discovery I made was how Honegger follows the motive, in phrase 1 (m. 1-2) note that the motive goes down a 2nd (E down to D). While in phrase 2 (m.3-6) note that the motive goes up a 2nd (E to F). Then in the phrases following the 1 bar Vif, phrase 4 (m. 8-9) the motive goes down a tritone (E to A#) whereas in phrase 5 (m. 10-13) the motive goes up a tritone (E to Bb). Wow. At a first glance it might just look like crazy, random music, but when analyzed critically it is actually symmetrical and systematic.

At the end of the piece, the motive comes back (note that it is an exact copy just shortened) before the B resolves to the C harmonic.

The slower section before the recap (Lent) is weaved throughout the piece each time it uses the echo effect – repeating material at a softer dynamic, but to keep the intrigue Honegger adds a tag at the end to differentiate the fragments. For example, m. 55 compared to m.57 (where Honegger presses on the breaks and starts to makes things slower and softer). And m. 58 compared to m. 59-60 (where there is one last – slower – iteration of the Vif theme).

Paul Hindemith Acht Stücke

Recital notes: One of Hindemith’s most well-known works is his Sonata for Flute and Piano which he composed in 1936. About ten years before he composed this Sonata, he wrote a piece for solo flute called Acht Stucke which translates to 8 Pieces or movements. These 8 movements are very short – some of the shortest movements in the piece such as the 2nd movement are only 40 seconds long. Also, these movements don’t have a stable tonal center and not all movements have an indicated meter so the motives and gestures within movements is what shapes the piece.

Welcome to Hindemith were key signatures don’t matter and the tonality is irrelevant. How does one cope? In my analysis for movement IV of this piece, I realized the rhythm was the true star of the piece so how did I learn the rhythm? By making a song:

Is it silly? Yes. But when the tonal patterns and rhythmic sequences are so brief there needs to be some way to connect ideas to form a coherent piece. I can’t be entirely sure if this what Hindemith intended when composing this movement, but if there is an evidence to suggest he DIDN’T intend this then send that my way. All jokes aside, let’s look at a more structural movement…

In movement VIII, there is some semblance of musical structure. The beginning is repeated at the end, and there seem to be two distinct sections (the presto and the offset section).

Both in the opening and end, the specific pitches aren’t so important (more so the intervallic relationships) it is clear with m.1-2 that 3-4 is similar while expanding the ‘motive’ by getting louder, faster and expanding the range. The F# don’t serve much tonal significance rather the note acts as an anchor to ground the piece as it ascends to A6 before dropping to D4.

The presto section beginnings suddenly quiet and with an indicated meter. There is a brief sequence with the downwards G-F#-F motion in m.8-9 and m. 11-12, but it is fleeting. There is more anchoring (similar to the opening) now on E as the melody ascends.

The register descends and the volume gradually diminishes. As a new section emerges, here the quarter note and eighth note are offset. The measures were the quarter note starts on beat 2 as a pickup are the string tying this section together. Note the pitches highlighted in yellow Eb D and the 3 repeated C#s (each C# rising more than the last). The rhythmic content for these highlighted pitches is all the same until the 3 C#s where the material is expanded yet again to return to a restatement of the opening.

Thank you for making it through this maiden voyage of explaining how my brain comprehends music theory. If you have any questions, additional thoughts or want to see the lyrics to the other Hindemith movements comment down below!