Has he put the emphasis on his work in the place where it is
most important? Has he so completely expressed himself that the
onlooker cannot fail to find his meaning?
_Appreciation of Art_. Loveridge.
When you listen to a song and at its close say, "That is beautiful," do
you ever stop and try to discover why it is beautiful? The quest may
lead you far into the field of Aesthetics, and unless you are accustomed
to psychological processes you may find yourself in a maze from which
escape is difficult. Let us remember that in studying the construction
of a song we are dealing with states of mind. A song is the product of a
certain mood and its direct aim is to awaken a similar mood in others.
It is a well established fact that sound is the most common and the most
effective way of expressing and communicating the emotions, not only for
man but for the lower animals as well. This method of communication
doubtless began far back in the history of the race and was used to
express bodily pain or pleasure.
The lower animals convey their feelings to each other by sounds, not by
words, and these sounds awaken in others the same feeling as that which
produced them.
We see, then, that emotion may be expressed by sound and be awakened by
sound, and this obtains among human beings no less than among the lower
animals. In the long process of ages sound qualities have become
indissolubly associated with emotional states, and have become the most
exciting, the most powerful sense stimulus in producing emotional
reactions. The cry of one human being in pain will excite painful
emotions in another. An exclamation of joy will excite a similar emotion
in others, and so on through the whole range of human emotions.
Herbert Spencer holds that the beginning of music may be traced back to
the cry of animals, which evidently has an emotional origin and purpose.
It is a far cry from the beginning of music as described by Spencer to
the modern art song, but from that time to this the principle has
remained the same. The emotional range of the lower animals is small,
doubtless limited to the expression of bodily conditions, but the human
race through long ages of growth has developed an almost unlimited
emotional range, hence the vehicle for its expression has of necessity
increased in complexity.
To meet this demand music as a science has evolved a tone system. That
is, from the infinite number of tones it has selected something over a
hundred having definite mathematical relationships, fixed vibrational
ratios. The art of music takes this system of tones and by means of
combinations, progressions and movements which constitute what is called
musical composition, it undertakes to excite a wide variety of emotions.
The aim and office of music is to create moods. It does not arrive at
definite expression. There is no musical progression which is
universally understood as an invitation to one's neighbor to pass the
bread. The pianist cannot by any particular tone combination make his
audience understand that his left shoe pinches, but he can make them
smile or look serious. He can fill them with courage or bring them to
tears without saying a word. In listening to the Bach _B Minor Mass_ one
can tell the _Sanctus_ from the _Gloria in Excelsis_ without knowing a
word of Latin. The music conveys the mood unmistakably.
A song is a union of music and poetry, a wedding if you please and as in
all matrimonial alliances the two contracting parties should be in
harmony. The poem creates a mood not alone by what it expresses directly
but by what it implies, what it suggests. Its office is to stimulate the
imagination rather than to inform by direct statement of facts. The
office of music is to strengthen, accentuate, and supplement the mood of
the poem, to translate the poem into music. The best song then, will be
one in which both words and music most perfectly create the same mood.
Arnold Bennett's definition of literature applies equally well to the
song. He says: "That evening when you went for a walk with your faithful
friend, the friend from whom you hid nothing--or almost nothing--you
were, in truth, somewhat inclined to hide from him the particular matter
which monopolized your mind that evening, but somehow you contrived to
get on to it, drawn by an overpowering fascination. And as your faithful
friend was sympathetic and discreet, and flattered you by a respectful
curiosity, you proceeded further and further into the said matter,
growing more and more confidential, until at last you cried out in a
terrific whisper: 'My boy she is simply miraculous:' At that moment you
were in the domain of literature." Now when such impassioned,
spontaneous utterance is brought under the operation of musical law we
have a perfect song. The composer furnished the words and music, but the
thing which makes it a song comes from the singer, from the earnestness
and conviction with which he delivers the message.
Songs are divided into two general classes: those expressing the
relationships of human beings, such as love, joy, sorrow, chivalry,
patriotism, etc., and those expressing the relationship of man to his
creator; veneration, devotion, praise, etc. The two great sources of
inspiration to song writers have always been love and religion.
What are the principles of song construction? They are all comprised in
the law of fitness. The composer must do what he sets out to do. The
materials with which he has to work are rhythm, melody and harmony. The
most important thing in a song is the melody. This determines to a very
great extent the health and longevity of the song. Most of the songs
that have passed the century mark and still live do so by reason of
their melody. There must be a sense of fitness between the poem and the
melody. A poem which expresses a simple sentiment requires a simple
melody. A simple story should be told simply. If the poem is sad,
joyous, or tragic the melody must correspond. Otherwise the family
discords begin at once. Poetry cannot adapt itself to music, because its
mood is already established. It is the business of the composer to
create music which will supplement the poem. A lullaby should not have a
martial melody, neither should an exhortation to lofty patriotism be
given a melody which induces somnolence.
The same sense of fitness must obtain in the accompaniment. The office
of the accompaniment is not merely to keep the singer on the pitch. It
must help to tell the story by strengthening the mood of the poem. It
must not be trivial or insincere, neither must it overwhelm and thus
draw the attention of the listeners to itself and away from the singer.
The accompaniment is the clothing, or dress, of the melody. Melodies,
like people, should be well dressed but not over dressed. Some melodies,
like some people, look better in plain clothes than in a fancy costume.
Other melodies appear to advantage in a rich costume. Modern songwriters
are much inclined to overdress their melodies to the extent that the
accompaniment forces itself upon the attention to the exclusion of the
melody. Such writing is as incongruous as putting on a dress suit to go
to a fire.
The significance of the theme should indicate the nature of the
accompaniment. To take a simple sentiment and overload it with a modern
complex harmonic accompaniment is like going after sparrows with a
sixteen inch siege gun.
Comedy in the song should not be associated with tragedy in the
accompaniment. A lively poem should not have a lazy accompaniment. The
great songwriters were models in this respect. This accounts for their
greatness. Take for example Schubert's _Wohin_ and _Der Wanderer_,
Schumann's _Der Nussbaum_, Brahms' _Feldeinsamkeit_. These
accompaniments are as full of mood as either poem or melody.
The element of proportion enters into songwriting no less than into
architecture. A house fifteen by twenty feet with a tower sixty feet
high and a veranda thirty feet wide would be out of proportion. A song
with sixty-four measures of introduction and sixteen measures for the
voice would be out of proportion. Making a song is similar to painting a
landscape. In the painting the grass, flowers, shrubbery etc., are in
the foreground, then come the hills and if there be a mountain range it
is in the background. If the mountain range were in the foreground it
would obscure everything else. So in making a song. If it tells a story
and reaches a climax the climax should come near the end of the song.
When the singer has carried his audience with him up to a great
emotional height then all it needs is to be brought back safely and
quickly to earth and left there.