Music: An Art and a Language Part 4

Answer]

This fugue in three voices begins with a graceful subject, announced in the upper voice. In the third measure this is answered by an imitation of the subject in the alto; while the opening voice continues with a contrasting part called the counter-subject.[40] As the whole subsequent fabric is organically derived from these two motives, both subject and counter-subject should be played frequently and so committed to memory. Observe also the contrasts in rhythm and melodic outline between the subject and counter-subject. In measures 4 and 5 we have a short sequential pa.s.sage leading, in measure 6, to the third entry of the subject in the ba.s.s. Then after another sequential pa.s.sage, which includes an emphatic a.s.sertion of the subject in the soprano (measures 11 and 12), we enter upon a long episode which leads, at measure 17, to our first objective point of rest--a cadence in C minor. With the entry, in this measure, of the subject in the alto we have an interesting example of what is termed "shifted rhythm;" the subject beginning on the third beat instead of the first, as at the outset. In the middle portion of the fugue we have two appearances of the subject in the related keys of C minor (measures 17 and 18) and G minor (measures 20 and 21). Then, following two very vigorous sequences, a modulatory return is made to the subject in the home key, and with its normal rhythm at measure 26. A repet.i.tion, in more brilliant form, of one of the previous episodes, in measures 31 and 32, gives a strong impression of unity; leading in measures 34 and 35 to a last appearance of the subject, with a beautiful change in one of the intervals (E-flat-G-flat). The closing measures establish the main tonality of E-flat major, rendered still more expressive by the counterpoint a.s.sociated with the last chord. As to the general structure of this fugue, it is evidently tripart.i.te, the first part A presenting the material, the second part B affording variety by modulating into different keys, and the third part A'

rea.s.serting the material of A and bringing the composition to a logical close in the home key. (See Supplement Ex. No. 15.)

[Footnote 40: It is left to the teacher to explain to the student the key-relationship of Subject and Answer, and the difference between fugues, tonal and real; for as these points have rather more to do with composition they play but a slight part in listening to a fugue.]

We should now acquaint ourselves with the more subtle devices of fugal treatment; although but one of these is employed in the fugue just studied, which is comparatively simple in structure. I. Inversion; the melodic outline is turned upside down while ident.i.ty is retained by means of the rhythm, _e.g._

[Music: BACH: 3rd English Suite

Theme

Inversion]

An excellent example from an orchestral work is the theme of the third movement of Brahms's _C minor Symphony_, the second phrase of which is an Inversion of the opening measures, _e.g._

[Music: Inversion]

II. Augmentation and Diminution; the length of the notes is doubled or halved while their metrical relativity is maintained, _e.g._

[Music: BACH: Fugue No. 8, Book I

Theme

Augmentation]

[Music: BACH: Fugue No. IX, Book II

Theme

Diminution]

Augmentation is very frequent in modern literature when a composer, by lengthening out the phraseology of a theme, wishes to gain for it additional emphasis. Excellent examples are the closing measures of Schumann's _Arabesque_, in which the reminiscence of the original motto is most haunting, _e.g._,

[Music: Motto]

[Music: Motto augmented]

the Finale of Liszt's _Faust Symphony_, where the love theme of the Gretchen movement is carried over and intoned by a solo baritone with impressive effect, _e.g._

[Music]

[Music: In augmentation

_Das ewig Weibliche_]

III. Shifted Rhythm; the position of the subject in the measure is so changed that the accents fall on different beats, _e.g._

[Music: BACH: Fugue No. V, Book II

Subject

Shifted]

IV. Stretto; (from the Italian verb "stringere," to draw close) that portion of a fugue, often the climax, where the entrances are _crowded_ together, _i.e._, the imitating voice enters before the leading voice has finished, _e.g._

[Music: _Fuga giocosa_, J.K. PAINE, op. 41

Subject]

The effect is obviously one of great concentration and dramatic intensity--with a sense of impending climax--and its use is by no means limited to fugal composition; being frequently found in all large symphonic works of the cla.s.sic and modern school. For a magnificent example of the climactic effect produced by a Stretto, witness the last part of Bach's Fugue in G major (see Supplement, Ex.

No. 16).

Although there is considerable complexity in any complete fugue, and although it requires great concentration on the part of the listener, we should avoid thinking of the form as mechanical in any derogatory sense, but rather as a means to a definite artistic end. Certainly no greater mistake can be made than that of considering Bach, the supreme master of polyphonic writing, as too austere, too involved, for the delight and edification of every-day mortals. Bach means brook, and the name[41] is most appropriate; for Bach is a never ceasing stream of musical life, the fountain-head from which spring the leading tendencies of modern music. In these days when stress is laid on the romantic element in music, on warm emotional appeal, it is well to consider the quality so prevalent in Bach of spiritual vitality.

Exactly because the romantic element represents the human side of music, it is subject to the whims of fashion and is liable to change and decay. Bach carries us into the realm of universal ideas, inexhaustible and changeless in their power to exalt. Schumann says that "Music owes to Bach what a religion owes to its founder"; and it is true that a knowledge of Bach is the beginning of musical wisdom.

By some, Bach is considered dry or too reserved for companionship with ordinary human beings. Others carelessly a.s.sert that he has no melody.

Nothing can be further from the truth than these two misconceptions.

Bach surely is not dry, because his work abounds in such vitality of rhythm. As Parry says, in his biography, "No composer ever attained to anything approaching the spontaneity, freshness, and winsomeness of his dances, such as the gavottes, bourrees, pa.s.sepieds and gigues in the suites; while many of his great choruses and instrumental fugues are inspired with a force of rhythmic movement which thrills the hearer with a feeling of being swept into s.p.a.ce out of the range of common things." The charge of a lack of melody is the same which used to be brought against Wagner. Instead of there being no melody, it is _all_ melody, so that the partially musical, who lack the power of sustained attention, are drowned in the flood of melodic outpouring. A strong claim, in fact, may be made for Bach as a _popular_ composer in the best sense of the term. Many of his colossal works, to be sure, are heard but seldom, for they require the most highly trained executive ability. But if the average music-lover will become familiar with the French and English Suites, with the Preludes and Fugues of the _Well-tempered Clavichord_, with some of the Violin Sonatas, he will find for his imagination and mental machinery a food which, once enjoyed, becomes indispensable. For his music has that greatest of qualities in art as in human relationships--it wears well and _lasts_.

We all know that books which reveal everything at a first reading are soon thrown aside, and that people whose depth of character and sweetness of disposition we discern but slowly, often become our life-long friends. Music which is too easily heard is identical with that which is immediately forgotten. The first impulse created by any great work of art is our longing to know it better. Its next attribute is its power to arouse and hold our steady affection. These observations may be applied literally to Bach's music, which can be heard for a lifetime, never losing its appeal but continually unfolding new beauties. Furthermore, in Bach, we feel the force of a great character even more than the artistic skill with which the personality is revealed. In this respect Bach in music is quite on a par with Shakespeare in literature and Michael Angelo in plastic art.

With many musicians, there is so disconcerting and inexplicable a discrepancy between their deeds as men and the artistic thoughts for which they seem to be the unconscious media, that it is inspiring to come into touch with one who rings true as a man whatever demands are made upon him; whose music is free from morbidity or carnal blemish, as pure as the winter wind, as elemental as the ocean, as uplifting as the stars. In Bach let us always remember the n.o.ble human traits; for the universal regard in which his work is held could never have come merely from profound skill in workmanship, but is due chiefly to the manly sincerity and emotional depth which are found therein. The revival of his works, for which the world owes to Mendelssohn such a debt, has been the single strongest factor in the development of music during the 19th century; and their influence[42] is by no means yet at an end, as may be seen from the glowing tributes paid to him by such modern composers as Franck, d'Indy and Debussy.[43]

[Footnote 41: Beethoven, commenting on the name, majestically said: "He is no brook; he is the open sea!"]

[Footnote 42: For a very suggestive article on this point by Philip Greeley Clapp see the Musical Quarterly for April, 1916.]

[Footnote 43: Some eloquent comments on Bach's style and significance may be found in Chapter III of _The Appreciation of Music_ by Surette and Mason.]

Two additional fugues are now given in the Supplement (see Nos. 17 and 18) for the consideration of the student: the _Cat-Fugue_ of Domenico Scarlatti, with its fantastic subject (said to have been suggested by the walking of a favorite cat on the key-board) and the _Fuga Giocosa_ of John Knowles Paine, (the subject of which is the well-known street-tune "Rafferty's lost his pig"). This latter example is not only a brilliant piece of fugal writing but a typical manifestation of American humor.

Several eulogies of the fugue are to be found in literature; three of the most famous are herewith appended.

"Hist, but a word, fair and soft!

Forth and be judged, Master Hugues!

Answer the question I've put you so oft: What do you mean by your mountainous fugues?

See, we're alone in the loft."

--Browning, _Master Hugues of Saxe-Gotha_.

Throughout, a most fantastic description of fugal style.

"Whence the sound Of instruments, that made melodious chime, Was heard, of harp and organ; and who mov'd Their stops and chords was seen; his volant touch Instinct through all proportions, low and high, Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue."

--Milton, _Paradise Lost_, Book XI.

"Then rose the agitation, spreading through the infinite cathedral to its agony; then was completed the pa.s.sion of the mighty fugue. The golden tubes of the organ which as yet had but sobbed and muttered at intervals--gleaming amongst clouds and surges of incense--threw up, as from fountains unfathomable, columns of heart-shattering music. Choir and antichoir were filling fast with unknown voices. Thou also, Dying Trumpeter! with thy love which was victorious, and thy anguish that was finishing, didst enter the tumult; trumpet and echo--farewell love and farewell anguish--rang through the dreadful Sanctus."

--From De Quincey's _Dream Fugue in the "Vision of Sudden Death_."