# Forward motion



## Guest (Dec 12, 2014)

I was listening to the final movement of Mahler's Symphony No. 6, which opens quite quietly and calmly, with a conversation amongst the various parts of the orchestra (54.39)...






I was struck how, once I became familiar with what happens, it was quite difficult not to demand for the forward motion that doesn't appear until almost 5 minutes later (59.19)...






It means that I fail to properly enjoy what precedes the 'progress', how the themes are passed from tuba, to horns, punctuated by the strings, and thence to woodwind.

So, I'm using this as an example to ask, to what extent does music itself - especially the more traditional forms - lead the listener to seek the progress or forward motion? For example, if the ear tends to seek resolution, it won't get it during the sections where the orchestra seems becalmed. Is it something that is, as with many responses to music, something that is entirely subjective - you wouldn't even use the terms 'progress' or 'forward motion', even though music, often having a beginning, middle and end invites us to think in journey terms?

All and any reflections and responses welcomed. I'd particularly appreciate examples of music that doesn't have forward motion.


----------



## brotagonist (Jul 11, 2013)

I think some modern music, perhaps random and aleatoric musics, might fall into that category. I'm thinking along the lines of John Cage, perhaps?


----------



## millionrainbows (Jun 23, 2012)

Here's my blog on the experience of time in music.

New Conceptions of Musical Time *Linear time:* Music that imparts a sense of linear time seems to move towards goals. This quality permeates virtually all of Western music from the Baroque, Classical, and Romantic eras. This is accomplished by processes which occur within tonal and metrical frameworks.
*Nonlinear time:* Music that evokes a sense of nonlinear time seems to stand still or evolve very slowly.

Western musicians first became aware of nonlinear time during the late 19th century. Debussy's encounter with Javanese gamelan music at the 1889 Paris Exhibition was a seminal event.

*Moment Form:* broken down connections between musical events in order to create a series of more or less discrete moments. Certain works of Stravinsky, Webern, Messiaen, and Stockhausen exemplify this approach.

*Vertical Time: *At the other extreme of the nonlinear continuum is music that maximizes consistency and minimizes articulation. Vertical time means that whatever structure that is in the music exists between simultaneous layers of sound, not between successive gestures. A virtually static moment is expanded to encompass an entire piece. A vertical piece does not exhibit large-scale closure. It does not begin, but merely starts. It does not build to a climax, does not set up internal expectations, does not seek to fulfill any expectations that might arise accidentally, does not build or release tension, and does not end, but simply ceases.
*Minimalism* exemplifies vertical time, but instead of absolute stasis, it generates constant motion. The sense of movement is so evenly paced, and the goals are so vague, that we usually lose our sense of perspective.

So listening to music "in linear time" with the cognitive faculty is basically the way most people hear music, because it's so difficult to calm our minds into a meditative or still state. To *survive* means to be aware of events in linear sequence, and that means cognition. Our "egos" function in this linear way, and our society demands that we be aware, cognitive, thinking, and productive.

Your experience with Mahler seems to demonstrate this: instead of "letting go" and experiencing the "stasis" which Mahler creates, your foreknowledge of the goal he was striving for spoils that stasis.

In his First Symphony, Mahler also creates a sense of stasis throughout the entire first movement. I see this technique of "harmonic stasis" as being related to Wagner, in which there are long, ambiguous sections which seem to hover without resolution.

There was a European interest in Eastern thought around this time, with Schopenhauer and an interest in oriental things, and the Indian Upanishads.​


----------



## SONNET CLV (May 31, 2014)

Ok, I admit that I'm not completely certain what you are asking about here, but that aside, it seems to me that much of form in music "lead the listener to seek the progress or forward motion". For example, the familiar sonata form suggests that two contrasting themes (the dynamic in the home key and the lyrical in a different but harmonically related key) will introduce the conflict, perhaps repeat, undergo a development, and then return (but now in the same key as the opening dynamic theme). Too, we can listen for such things as introductions and codas, as well as those surprises of form which delight the ear and the expectations. All in all, this is how I often listen to what may be construed as a "forward motion" in the music.

Of course, each form brings about its own expectations. A rondo, for example, allows for a surprise following each "A" theme. A theme and variations presents transmogrifications of the initial theme, often ingeniously (as the melodic inversion of the original theme in the famous 18th variation of Rachmaninoff's _Paganini Variations_).

Music with no forward motion seems almost antithetical to musical form as we know it, though I would think that John Cage or Morton Feldman would propose that their own music often attempted to do just that -- sort of simply float along -- in which case what one listens to is the change of orchestral colors or even the random-seeming explosions of sound (soft or loud) that occur throughout. Yet even this, it seems to me, is a type of forward motion. I know that when I hear the Cage 4'33" (which I do listen to on recordings every now and then!) I experience the sense of forward motion by awaiting those minutes and seconds to come to an end -- generally, so I can play something with a bit more ... er, music to it.

In that particular movement you introduce in your post (the _Finale _of Mahler's Sixth -- which is playing as I type), there is a wonderful sense of anticipation as the motif of the opening passes through the orchestra, punctuated by accidental tinged tones and bell ringing, fluttering strings, drumbeats, brassy outbursts, harp tones .... That anticipation of something to come (which, in a fourth movement might be expected to be a tremendous outburst of allegro rushing sound) is the producer of "forward motion" to my ears. Frankly, I find it difficult to interrupt my listening of that Mahler _Finale _opening, simply because I am awaiting something to come. This is perhaps what you mean when you say "it was quite difficult not to demand for the forward motion". And that is a good thing. Mahler does a great job keeping us anticipating.

So, when you write: "It means that I fail to properly enjoy what precedes the 'progress', how the themes are passed from tuba, to horns, punctuated by the strings, and thence to woodwind." -- I must suggest that you have not failed at all in enjoying the introductory music of this movement. You have fallen for exactly what Mahler set you up to fall for -- anticipation of something to come. Bravo!

Again, I'm not certain what you are looking for here, but those are my thoughts as _I_ understand this topic. Not saying they're valid in any significant way.


----------



## millionrainbows (Jun 23, 2012)

With Morton Feldman,he keeps us busy with "expectation," even though the music is essentially without a goal. A note will play, then another, and you think that maybe you are hearing a tonal center; but a moment later, a third note occurs, which negates the previous implication, and creates a new expectation, or none at all. It's as if he is "baiting" your ear. All Western music does this, but Feldman has compressed this process into a series of "expectations without a payoff," which is rather like "Waiting for Godot" by Samuel Beckett; an essentially absurd experience.


----------



## Mahlerian (Nov 27, 2012)

The beginning of the movement in question is music in the process of being formed, bit by bit, motif by motif.

It starts in the "wrong" key of C minor (same key signature as the E-flat major Andante which precedes it, depending on the version), and states a theme related to the themes of the first movement immediately, followed by an outburst in A major turning to minor.

Then the bits of the "main theme" for the movement begin to form (in A minor, the main key): in the tuba, the clarinets, and so forth, one piece at a time. The bizarre apparition of the horn and trumpet glissandi leads to an extremely heavy chorale (in C minor) which forms the basis of the "second theme," ending in G major to minor. The chorale is then developed and fragmented, forming into the pieces of the theme, and finishing in a C major to minor outburst. Then the fragments of the first theme begin to coalesce, allegro (at 59:19), and then the introduction ends and the exposition begins at 59:47.

I hear the movement as in constant forward motion, at least until later, when the atmosphere of the introduction returns near the beginning of the development section.


----------



## GGluek (Dec 11, 2011)

The opening measures of the sixth's finale are among the most harrowing moments in all of music -- both in their spookiness and in the sense of anticipation toward some gigantic dread they inspire. This portentiousness is what you are reacting to -- and if we could duplicate it, we'd make more money than the Friday the Thirteenth movie franchise. As Michael Steinberg describes these measures: ". . . We have come to an accursed place."


----------



## SONNET CLV (May 31, 2014)

millionrainbows said:


> With Morton Feldman,he keeps us busy with "expectation," even though the music is essentially without a goal. A note will play, then another, and you think that maybe you are hearing a tonal center; but a moment later, a third note occurs, which negates the previous implication, and creates a new expectation, or none at all. It's as if he is "baiting" your ear. All Western music does this, but Feldman has compressed this process into a series of "expectations without a payoff," which is rather like "Waiting for Godot" by Samuel Beckett; an essentially absurd experience.


Excellent post, well said. Thoughtful and worth pondering.

As a some time "theatre person" I especially appreciate your Beckett reference. It's intriguing to note that Feldman has written music specifically for Beckett theatre pieces.

Feldman's piece _For Samuel Beckett _(1987) is a near hour-long work for a chamber orchestra of 23 players commissioned by The Holland Festival 1987 for the Schoenberg Ensemble. I have a recording on the HatHut label:









HatHutRecords
hat[now]ART 142
Release year: 2007

As well, there is _Neither_, a Composition -- or opera, or monodrama, or anti-opera -- (based upon a 56-line poem by Beckett) for Soprano and Chamber Orchestra. Beckett and Feldman had met in Berlin in 1976 with plans for a collaboration for Rome Opera. Apparently Beckett told Feldman that he himself did not like opera, and Feldman had agreed with Beckett's sentiment. Still, _Neither_ is glorious stuff, especially for Feldman. A recording has also been released on hat[now]ART Records.






Also significant is the collaborative _Words and Music _(1987) for chamber ensemble, incidental music for a radio play Beckett wrote for the BBC in 1961. The playwright withdrew the work but later suggested that Feldman write music to accompany the words. The new piece was premiered in 1987 (the year of Feldman's death), produced for the American Beckett Festival of Radio Plays. In Feldman's words: "It was a huge amount of fun to do something for Beckett, a sort of tribute to him, i.e. someone who has been part of my life since the '50's … it was to some extent a labour of love, which I happily undertook."






What would our cultural scene be like today without the contributions of these two giants, Samuel Beckett and Morton Feldman? I dare not even speculate upon that.


----------



## Albert7 (Nov 16, 2014)

Feldman's String Quartet 2 does not have forward motion. It contains suspense of tones as caught in midair like a form of Zen meditation.


----------



## Guest (Dec 13, 2014)

SONNET CLV said:


> Ok, I admit that I'm not completely certain what you are asking about here,


No, I think you've got it. You explain (and agree) that it is in the nature of the forms of music to lead the listener with a set of expectations.



SONNET CLV said:


> Music with no forward motion seems almost antithetical to musical form as we know it, though I would think that John Cage or Morton Feldman would propose that their own music often attempted to do just that -- sort of simply float along -- in which case what one listens to is the change of orchestral colors or even the random-seeming explosions of sound (soft or loud) that occur throughout. Yet even this, it seems to me, is a type of forward motion. I know that when I hear the Cage 4'33" (which I do listen to on recordings every now and then!) I experience the sense of forward motion by awaiting those minutes and seconds to come to an end -- generally, so I can play something with a bit more ... er, music to it.


And that sensation of floating - or letting go, says millionrainbows - is quite clearly the effect, if not the purpose of some pieces. It's obviously not the intended effect of the introductory to the Mahler.



SONNET CLV said:


> In that particular movement you introduce in your post (the _Finale _of Mahler's Sixth -- which is playing as I type), there is a wonderful sense of anticipation as the motif of the opening passes through the orchestra, punctuated by accidental tinged tones and bell ringing, fluttering strings, drumbeats, brassy outbursts, harp tones .... That anticipation of something to come (which, in a fourth movement might be expected to be a tremendous outburst of allegro rushing sound) is the producer of "forward motion" to my ears. Frankly, I find it difficult to interrupt my listening of that Mahler _Finale _opening, simply because I am awaiting something to come. This is perhaps what you mean when you say "it was quite difficult not to demand for the forward motion". And that is a good thing. Mahler does a great job keeping us anticipating.
> 
> So, when you write: "It means that I fail to properly enjoy what precedes the 'progress', how the themes are passed from tuba, to horns, punctuated by the strings, and thence to woodwind." -- I must suggest that you have not failed at all in enjoying the introductory music of this movement. You have fallen for exactly what Mahler set you up to fall for -- anticipation of something to come. Bravo!
> 
> Again, I'm not certain what you are looking for here, but those are my thoughts as _I_ understand this topic. Not saying they're valid in any significant way.


Thanks. You've got it, and Mahlerian's outline of the structure of the section adds to my musical knowledge...



Mahlerian said:


> The beginning of the movement in question is music in the process of being formed, bit by bit, motif by motif.
> 
> It starts in the "wrong" key of C minor (same key signature as the E-flat major Andante which precedes it, depending on the version), and states a theme related to the themes of the first movement immediately, followed by an outburst in A major turning to minor.
> 
> Then the bits of the "main theme" for the movement begin to form (in A minor, the main key): in the tuba, the clarinets, and so forth, one piece at a time. The bizarre apparition of the horn and trumpet glissandi leads to an extremely heavy chorale (in C minor) which forms the basis of the "second theme," ending in G major to minor. The chorale is then developed and fragmented, forming into the pieces of the theme, and finishing in a C major to minor outburst. Then the fragments of the first theme begin to coalesce, allegro (at 59:19), and then the introduction ends and the exposition begins at 59:47


That 'coalescing' at 59:19, now I listen to it again with more intent - to track what you and Sonnet describe - makes me feel physically nauseous. The violins are propelling the listener, pitching me unwilling and headlong into what I now know is to come - a rollercoaster (and I hate rollercoasters) fourth movement that doesn't end well (thematically speaking, that is.)


----------



## Guest (Dec 13, 2014)

GGluek said:


> The opening measures of the sixth's finale are among the most harrowing moments in all of music -- both in their spookiness and in the sense of anticipation toward some gigantic dread they inspire. This portentiousness is what you are reacting to -- and if we could duplicate it, we'd make more money than the Friday the Thirteenth movie franchise. As Michael Steinberg describes these measures: ". . . We have come to an accursed place."


And now, as you see from what I described above, I too can appreciate Steinberg's description. Thanks.

[add] Is the Steinberg worth a read? It seems to be well enough reviewed on Amazon.com, but not on Amazon.co.uk (only 1 review!)


----------



## EdwardBast (Nov 25, 2013)

millionrainbows said:


> Here's my blog on the experience of time in music.
> 
> New Conceptions of Musical Time


You should credit the sources for these concepts. Otherwise it looks like they are yours when in fact they are not.


----------



## sharik (Jan 23, 2013)

MacLeod said:


> to what extent does music itself - especially the more traditional forms - lead the listener to seek the progress or forward motion? For example, if the ear tends to seek resolution, it won't get it during the sections where the orchestra seems becalmed.


i'd leave it all to the composer and trust him in that.


----------



## Guest (Dec 13, 2014)

sharik said:


> i'd leave it all to the composer and trust him in that.


Trust him? In what way?


----------



## GGluek (Dec 11, 2011)

MacLeod said:


> And now, as you see from what I described above, I too can appreciate Steinberg's description. Thanks.
> 
> [add] Is the Steinberg worth a read? It seems to be well enough reviewed on Amazon.com, but not on Amazon.co.uk (only 1 review!)


Michael Steinberg started out as the music critic of the Boston Globe in the '60s an early '70s. He graduated to program annotator for the BSO, and later for the Minnesota orch. and the SF Symphony. He is (was) a really good writer and knew music backwards and forwards. His collections of notes are extraordinarily informative - both about the music and the composer - and an absolute pleasure to read. He loves music and writes about it really well. (Aside: As a student at Princeton, he was Charles Rosen's roommate.) If you enjoy reading about music (Tovey, Shaw, etc.), you will like his collections.


----------



## PetrB (Feb 28, 2012)

GGluek said:


> The opening measures of the sixth's finale are among the most harrowing moments in all of music -- both in their spookiness and in the sense of anticipation toward some gigantic dread they inspire. This portentiousness is what you are reacting to -- and if we could duplicate it, we'd make more money than the Friday the Thirteenth movie franchise. As Michael Steinberg describes these measures: ". . . We have come to an accursed place."


Like the Cunard Cruise Lines publicity motto, _"Getting there is half the fun."_

@ the OP. Generally, in a comp, the lack or delaying of a harmonic area into a resolution is considered more of a type of 'forward motion' than the arriving at a resolution, which is considered more 'repose,' than active 

At any rate, it has been explained well enough, there is a harkening back, or review, and new themes given, prior the more obvious take-off -- Gustav is setting you up


----------



## Guest (Dec 15, 2014)

PetrB said:


> Gustav is setting you up


And perhaps the payoff doesn't work as well without the setting up? Beethoven does the same with the 4th mvmt of the 9th and similarly, the apparent stasis can leave the listener urging the composer to get on with it!


----------

