(Originally posted on October 22, 1999)
Chapter 1: The Story Called Theory
First, let’s look up the words “theory” and “law” in the dictionary. Upon re-examining them, we find a list of words that seem quite distant from the images we associate with music.
the·o·ry: A system of ideas intended to explain something, especially one based on general principles independent of the thing to be explained.
law: A rule defining correct procedure or behavior. A statement of fact, deduced from observation, to the effect that a particular natural or scientific phenomenon always occurs if certain conditions are present.
(Adapted from Oxford Languages)
Now, there are several types of what are generally called “music theory,” but they are often lumped together under the single term “music theory.”
Music theory can be broadly divided into two types. The first is a system of knowledge created by analyzing actual musical works in some way and summarizing the results into a unified system of laws. This may sound complicated, but it actually refers to theories like “harmony,” “melodic theory,” and “chord progression theory.” I will refer to this as the “Composition Method Type.”
The second type also involves analyzing actual works, but it logically accumulates “if you do this, this will happen” principles for the purpose of reproducing or practicing a certain phenomenon. This corresponds to theories like “arranging theory” and “orchestration.” I will call this the “Arrangement Method Type.”
In this chapter, I will first discuss the “Composition Method Type” of theory.
A key feature of the “Composition Method Type” is that its theoretical system is “closed.” This means that while it can uniformly explain phenomena within a limited musical context, the theory becomes fallacious outside of that frame. Simply put, this refers to cases like classical harmony being unable to uniformly explain the blues.
Now, this “Composition Method Type” of theory attempts to be a system of laws that encompasses certain elements of music. For example, a theory of chord progressions tries to create a system of laws for the element of consecutive vertical stacks of notes. It defines the formation of chords and the superiority of the fifth interval, based on the natural overtone series, and attempts to codify the connection of sounds.
The theory tries to answer questions like, “Why is this sequence of chords possible, and what is its basis?” and attempts to present a consistent set of laws. By extension, it even tries to derive the entirety of all possible chord connections. This is because the same desire exists here as in physics—the desire to grasp the “present, past, and future” of this world by describing the natural world through physical laws.
However, even a theory based on the “universal gravity” of the music world, the “natural overtone series,” stands on shaky ground. When the foundation of a theory becomes questionable, it too becomes fallacious. In that case, I think it’s more appropriate to set aside the question of the theory’s validity and accept it as “one story for explaining music.”
Conversely, a “Composition Method Type” of theory is a “system of knowledge” constructed to explain a limited type of music, and it is a law that is true only under the limited conditions it sets for itself. “A limited type of music” can refer to a limited genre (as in the classical vs. blues example) or limited elements (harmony only, melody only, rhythm only, etc., the latter two often seen in ethnomusicology), and usually, these are combined.
These theories are useful for analyzing and understanding pieces, but one must question the act of blindly believing in them as universal laws of music. This can be compared to anatomy in medicine. No matter how much you understand the structure of the human body, it is not the same as knowing a “person.” Above all, you cannot bring that body back to life or create life.
So, how should a composer approach the “Composition Method Type” of theory? One should temporarily suspend judgment on whether the theory is valid, true, or false, and simply feel what kind of sound the music that uses the theory, or can be analyzed by it, possesses.
A familiar example is when a beginner composer picks up a book on “chord theory.” In the beginning, don’t try to force yourself to understand the system of knowledge, such as the various premises and laws written there. A systematic understanding will emerge as a connection of experiences after a certain amount of time. Besides, it’s a knowledge system that is only valid for a limited type of music, so in a sense, you can approach it like reading the rulebook for a card game. First, let’s just enjoy the fun of playing a game like Sevens.
The reason why things like “parallel fifths” and “progressions of augmented intervals” are avoided in classical harmony is that this system is fundamentally based on “choral music” and places value on “ease of singing and independence of vocal parts.” There is a world of music that does not place value on these things. Thus, theories are often closed. More importantly, I think it’s crucial to actually play the musical examples, experience sounds you didn’t know before, and develop an interest in unknown sonic worlds.
As another strange example, consider the discomfort index in a weather forecast. Suppose there is a person who wants to create a “discomforting space.” Rather than understanding the origins, basis, and theory of the discomfort index, that person should first go outside when the “discomfort index is 100” and experience the discomfort for themselves. Then, when they begin to wonder why such a consensus on this index exists among people, they can pursue its theoretical underpinnings. By doing so, they will realize that the elements that constitute a “discomforting space” are not just humidity and temperature, but a variety of things.
Composing according to a closed theory can be very effective if done thoroughly. To compose concretely following the “system of knowledge” and “laws” extracted from a certain range of musical works is equivalent to touching the historical essence of that music. Moreover, taking the time to become proficient in one closed theory will be of great benefit later on. As I will discuss in the next chapter, it comes to life as a “musical ruler.”
The significance of that theory emerges when it is incorporated by the composer and manifested through their actual work. Through practice, the composer develops their own empirical rules, which may even crystallize into a unique theory.
Composers are not musicologists, and in the extreme, as creators, they can even be free from scientific validity. Ultimately, I believe it’s fine for them to build their own unique music based on inspired and subjective values. What’s important is not what the music theory itself is, but how one transforms it into the concrete sound of a work, and by extension, into one’s own method and style.
So, that was about the features of the “Composition Method Type” of theory and how to approach it. Next is the “Arrangement Method Type.”
Chapter 2: As a Material, As a Ruler
Next is the “Arrangement Method Type” of theory.
The characteristic of this type is that much of it is based on “empiricism.” In other words, it can be seen as representing a value system derived from the experience of the theory’s creator. Even if the foundation of the theory (such as acoustical physics or cognitive psychology) is shaky, as long as the effects obtained from the “arrangement method” are useful to the user, its existence is fully justified.
For example, suppose there is an arrangement method for creating “scary music” that says, “play phrases that move by half steps irregularly in the low register.” Its theoretical explanation might be something like, “In cognitive psychology, using irregular movements and semitones to make musical prediction difficult evokes a sense of anxiety.” Here, unlike the “Composition Method Type,” I believe it’s fine to set aside theoretical consistency from the start. Therefore, even if the interpretation or basis from cognitive psychology is overturned, the quality of the effect up to that point does not change. Only the way the effect is explained or interpreted changes.
Methods of instrumental expression, represented by “orchestration,” are also based on the creator’s empiricism. To confirm this, one only needs to examine several orchestration books from different eras. You will find many passages reflecting the creator’s aesthetic sense. Similarly, these characteristics can be seen in modern arrangement methods, including “band arranging.”
These examples can be described as theories that are value systems of effects (a linkage of “if you do this, this happens”) born from the creator’s experience.
In addition, there are arrangement methods created by expanding and developing “Composition Method Type” theories. An example of this type is the “Upper Structure Triad (or UST).” This can be described as a technique that has been made independent for processing musical materials (phrases, chords, etc.) by broadly interpreting a “Composition Method Type” theory. The origin and basis of the technique lie in the original “Composition Method Type” theory.
Similar to this are various voicing techniques such as “4-way, open, close, spread, drop,” and mechanical phrase processing methods like “dissonance control” and “line writing.” I believe the value system for this type of technique can only be built up by the user through actual practice. Conversely, they can be said to be “mere tools.” These were all devised by developing and expanding a foundational theory and are dedicated to being rationally refined “mechanical processing methods.”
Thus, when approaching these arrangement methods, unlike the “Composition Method Type,” I think it’s fine to approach them practically and greedily as a collection of technical know-how. Let’s incorporate and accumulate what we feel we need at the time, as much as we need. DAW sequencing techniques are a type of arrangement method, and becoming proficient with synthesizers is also part of it. These are all collections of “if you do this, this happens.”
Summary
When a composer approaches the “Composition Method Type” and “Arrangement Method Type” of theories, the following perspectives can be considered: what kind of music will the composer create after learning them, and how can the composer’s works be interpreted by those theories?
Regarding what kind of work will be created, it’s a matter of course, as I mentioned in the previous chapter. Themes for expression are lying around everywhere. If you approach a theory with the intention of making it a theme, it will begin to show a new face not as a systematic law but as a bountiful material, and the question becomes what the composer will create from it. In other words, it’s about trying to activate the “conversion device” I discussed in “Gazing at Composition” on the theory itself.
Conversely, by objectively viewing a theory as something that forms a unified system of laws, even if within a limited scope, you can obtain a “ruler” with specific characteristics. To analyze a work using a theory is equivalent to bringing a “ruler” into the domain of composition, which essentially has only subjective values to rely on.
This ruler shows results with numbers on its scale, but it does not indicate a value of “good or bad.” However, this ruler will tell you what is common among a group of works that give a certain impression. More finely, this ruler will tell you the combinations of intervals and registers common to a group of chords that have a certain sound. Elsewhere, it will show that a particular musician’s improvisation uses a specific scale at a high rate.
This ruler tries to measure all music by the scale it has defined itself. But just as a straightedge cannot measure a curved surface well, it tends to lump together objects that are difficult to analyze as “exceptions.” Some rulers, like a measuring tape, can measure both flat and curved surfaces, but they may be difficult to handle or may not be accurate.
In fact, one of the purposes of learning music theory from an early stage in educational institutions is to obtain this ruler. Rather than for the purpose of creating, it can be said that the process of memorizing things like “intervals,” “scales,” and “key relationships,” which at first glance seem useless, is for acquiring the ability to understand one’s own music and the music of others not just intuitively but also analytically.
Remember being made to memorize the multiplication tables in elementary school. We were made to memorize them with little explanation of how useful they would be, then moved on to monotonous long multiplication, and became able to do multiplication with large numbers. It’s likely in real life, different from the image of math problems, that you realize how much it has become a part of you.
Regarding music theory as a ruler, you will likely feel a similar monotony or meaninglessness as with the multiplication tables until you can understand the ruler’s usefulness. However, by applying the ruler to various kinds of music, having small “aha!” moments, or classifying things as “nothing but exceptions,” you will eventually acquire a sense of distance. What is acquired naturally over time becomes a great strength, even if the person is not aware of it.
It is said that musical phenomena exist within the sensibility of the listener (the composer). For example, the phenomenon of “dominant motion” does not exist objectively. Rather, a certain feeling that the listener perceives is called that. The “that feeling” when the sound of an augmented fourth resolves to the sound of a third and a sixth is what we call “dominant motion.”
The reason I have repeatedly used the phrase “to engage with the sound,” and the concept of the “sum total of musical experience” that I touched on in “Gazing at Composition,” both stem from the premise that “musical phenomena exist within the sensibility of the listener (composer).” Simply understanding music theory and acquiring a “system of knowledge” is musically meaningless. I believe the ideal is to sublimate it into a “system of sensibility.” And for that, there is no other way than the accumulation of musical experience over a long period of time.
I believe music is essentially free. You can do whatever you want. However, even if you are told you can do anything, you will likely end up bewildered by the vast freedom. In that case, I think it is more constructive to expand the scope of your freedom by accumulating what you can do through the wisdom of your predecessors. Just as you are stimulated by listening to various kinds of music or experiencing other media like literature, painting, and film, I hope you will think flexibly about how you approach music theory.
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