(Original posted on April 8, 2002)
One could say that a characteristic of “large-scale works,” such as classical symphonies, is their ability to maintain a sense of unity as a single piece of music, despite their sheer size. Those who have composed will understand how difficult this is.
To put it somewhat bluntly, creating a merely large piece – that is, a piece that is simply long in duration – is relatively easy (though it still requires considerable effort). This can be achieved by stringing together fragmented melodies without any contextual connection, in a rambling fashion. But how would such a piece be received by the listener?
Even if each individual melody were charming, its appeal would change depending on its relationship with the melodies preceding and following it. Moreover, if all melodies were equally charming, they would become much of a muchness, resulting in none of them leaving a lasting impression. The piece would be long and large, but merely tedious.
Therefore, composers attempt to introduce a structure to their works, such as a beginning, development, turn, and conclusion – an introduction of what is known as “dramaturgy.” They establish a hierarchy of value among the melodies, assigning lead and supporting roles. Sometimes there is a calm before the storm, or an intensity or serenity designed to bring about catharsis.
Beyond these, there are various techniques for constructing large-scale works. Western music employs a technique called “thematic manipulation” (or thematic development), which is a significant force in creating a sense of unity in a piece.
This book, “The Melodic Science of Masterpieces” (original title: 『名曲の旋律学』), focuses on this “thematic manipulation” and attempts a unique approach. Using famous classical pieces as examples, it tries to decipher the thematic manipulation at play, examining how composers create an entire piece based on a central motif, ultimately achieving a sense of unity.
At first glance, it might seem like a mere search for themes and motifs within a piece. For example, finding the famous “da-da-da-DUM” motif in Beethoven’s “Fate” Symphony (Symphony No. 5) on the score is not difficult in itself. One might wonder what significance there is in saying, “It’s here, it’s there, it’s over there too. Therefore, there’s unity.” And from a creator’s perspective, it might feel strange to be told that the reality of composition is to scatter motifs throughout a piece or combine them mechanically.
However, the author is not merely “parts-hunting,” nor does he suggest that composition is the mechanical assembly of motif-parts. Before we delve deeper into what the author intends to say, let’s briefly look at “harmonic structure,” one of the structures in music.
When creating a harmonic structure – a specific harmonic progression, or a chord progression in pop music – it’s quite common for one’s personal preferences and habits to emerge unconsciously, resulting in a satisfying progression. Conversely, it’s also common to consciously and calculatedly create unconventional progressions, perhaps by broadly interpreting theory or by deliberately using less common ones.
In other words, we manipulate harmonic structures consciously and unconsciously in our daily musical activities. As the author also illustrates, this is similar to how we use language. When we speak, we are conscious of the content of our speech, but the handling of sentences and phrases is mostly done unconsciously. As one becomes accustomed to creating harmonic structures, one becomes conscious of the musicality expressed by the sonorities, but the manipulation itself (effective voicing, basic knowledge of chords, know-how of connections and alterations, etc.) tends to become less conscious. And, conversely, by becoming conscious, one can also practice manipulating harmonic structures in ways that differ from the usual.
When people encounter such harmonic structures, I don’t think they question whether they were created consciously or unconsciously. They would likely understand that “sometimes it’s conscious, sometimes it’s unconscious.” And here, the author states that “thematic structure” is the same. It’s just that, until now, it has been hidden and not adequately explained.
This means that composers, while being mindful or unmindful of how a motif is treated, and while focusing on the overall piece (the “content of the story”), perform thematic manipulation consciously or unconsciously, ultimately building a “thematic structure.” So, what do composers aim for with this thematic structure?
A composer does not compose to demonstrate the identity of a theme. Whether its internal identity can be “proven” is irrelevant to him. What is important is the fact that he has constructed the entire piece on a common thematic foundation. This is because it promises that the listener, through “subconscious recollection,” will accept seemingly different expressions as a single, coherent whole. This, and nothing else, is the ultimate goal of thematic technique. (p. 225)
In other words, just as one can be captivated by the rich sonorities of harmony in a piece, if one feels a sense of unity in the music, one is, at that very moment, captivated by that unity. And that is the goal of the thematic structure. Sensing whether unity is emerging during composition and skillfully employing thematic manipulation techniques, consciously or unconsciously, becomes a crucial factor in composing.
Therefore, there is no contradiction if this book, when faced with a wonderfully inspired melody, shows that it appears calculated from a thematic structure perspective. Keeping this in mind as you read the book will deepen your understanding. And perhaps this book will enable you to add “thematic structure” as one of your own compositional elements.
Viewed this way, it might be that some composers have naturally acquired this element, simply “without being conscious of it.” And those who haven’t could certainly acquire it, “just as one learns harmony.” Furthermore, just as one deepens the “sense” of harmonic structure through experience, it is important, and above all “interesting,” to deepen the “sense” of thematic structure through experience.