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2015-04-03

Clandestine Quotation and Micro-Quotation as


Compositional Resources in the Trumpet
Concerto Necessary Steps
Peter J. Learn
University of Miami, peterjlearn@gmail.com

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Learn, Peter J., "Clandestine Quotation and Micro-Quotation as Compositional Resources in the Trumpet Concerto Necessary Steps"
(2015). Open Access Dissertations. Paper 1370.

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UNIVERSITY OF MIAMI

CLANDESTINE QUOTATION AND MICRO-QUOTATION AS COMPOSITIONAL


RESOURCES IN THE TRUMPET CONCERTO NECESSARY STEPS

By

Peter James Learn

A DOCTORAL ESSAY

Submitted to the Faculty


of the University of Miami
in partial fulfillment of the requirements for
the degree of Doctor of Musical Arts

Coral Gables, Florida

May 2015
2015
Peter James Learn
All Rights Reserved
UNIVERSITY OF MIAMI

A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of


the requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Musical Arts

CLANDESTINE QUOTATION AND MICRO-QUOTATION AS COMPOSITIONAL


RESOURCES IN THE TRUMPET CONCERTO NECESSARY STEPS

Peter James Learn

Approved:

______________________________ ______________________________
Dorothy Hindman, D.M.A. Juan Chattah, Ph.D.
Assistant Professor of Music Assistant Professor of Music
Theory and Composition Theory and Composition

______________________________ _______________________________
Charles Mason, D.M.A. M. Brian Blake, Ph.D.
Professor and Chair of Music Dean of the Graduate School
Theory and Composition

______________________________
Melissa de Graaf, Ph.D.
Associate Professor of Musicology
LEARN, PETER JAMES (D.M.A., Music Theory and Composition)
Clandestine Quotation and Micro-Quotation as (May 2015)
Compositional Resources in the Trumpet
Concerto Necessary Steps.

Abstract of a doctoral essay at the University of Miami.

Doctoral essay supervised by Professor Dorothy Hindman.


No. of pages in text. (338)

This document proposes to examine the aesthetic ramifications of quotation as

applied in musical composition. While this essay focuses on the techniques of

clandestine and micro-quotation, other methods of quotation employed as a

compositional device are also examined, citing pertinent examples from the literature. In

order to provide context to this discussion, this essay includes a broad survey of the

history of quotation in Western art music, as well as a focused discussion of recent

works. For the purposes of this document, the scope of the sample group is limited to

concert music. Drawing upon the research of Burkholder, Reynolds, and others, in

addition to empirical observations, the author posits a taxonomy comprised of three basic

categories of the use of quotation as a compositional device. Direct, referential quotation

is distinguished from significant manipulation or use at deeper structural levels, which in

turn is differentiated from hidden or clandestine quotation. These categories are

principally based on the level of perceptibility of given borrowing procedures. While this

categorization is primarily based on the musical features of particular works, salient

musicological facts are also brought to bear on certain cases. The aesthetic and rhetorical

impact that quotation has on a composition is also considered, especially in the music of

Peter James Learn, and particularly in his trumpet concerto, Necessary Steps.

Acknowledgements

Dedicated to my parents,

and to Dennis Kam and Dorothy Hindman,

without any of whom this would not have been possible.

Thanks also to Lansing McLoskey and Robin Holloway

for their valuable insights into the whys of quotation

and their fascinating music.

To Melissa de Graaf, for putting up with

the inquiries into minutiae.

And to D, David, Daniel, Miri, and Richard, for all the moral support

and impromptu therapy sessions.

iii

CONTENTS


LIST OF MUSICAL EXAMPLES.....................................................................................vi

LIST OF FIGURES........................................................................................................xviii

LIST OF TABLES............................................................................................................xxi

INTRODUCTION .............................................................................................................. 1

CHAPTER

1. HISTORICAL PRECEDENTS AND CONTEXT .................................................. 11

Medieval and Renaissance .................................................................................... 12

Variation and Baroque Practices ........................................................................... 21

Classical and Romantic Borrowing ...................................................................... 28

2. DIRECT, RECOGNIZABLE, AND REFERENTIAL QUOTATION ................... 33

Charles Ives........................................................................................................... 34

Music for the Magic Theater................................................................................. 40

Three Dire Medical Emergencies ......................................................................... 49

Faust Fantasy........................................................................................................ 52

Shant ..................................................................................................................... 55

3. MANIPULATED, JUXTAPOSED, AND STRUCTURAL QUOTATION ........... 63

Sinfonia ................................................................................................................. 66

Rewriting Beethoven's Seventh Symphony ............................................................ 78

Quartettrope.......................................................................................................... 85

Chop'n ................................................................................................................... 91

Mosaique ............................................................................................................. 100

iv

4. CLANDESTINE QUOTATION AND MICRO-QUOTATION ........................... 119

OK-OK ................................................................................................................ 122

Robin Holloway .................................................................................................. 129

Nancarrow Meditations ...................................................................................... 134

Apollonian Echo.................................................................................................. 145

5. POTENTIAL USES OF QUOTATION AS A COMPOSITIONAL TOOL AND


ITS RHETORICAL RAMIFICATIONS ............................................................... 164

Extra-referential Reasons to Borrow .................................................................. 175

Linguistic Models and Embedded Topics........................................................... 178

Ethical Considerations and Aesthetic Authority ................................................ 185

Why Use Quotation? ........................................................................................... 192

6. REMARKS ON AND ANALYSIS OF NECESSARY STEPS

I. Conception, Composition, and Analysis...................................................... 197

II. Clandestine and Micro-Quotation .............................................................. 230

7. NECESSARY STEPS: A CONCERTO FOR TRUMPET AND ORCHESTRA ....... 254

APPENDIX: PETER JAMES LEARNS TRANSCRIPTION OF JOHN COLTRANES


GIANT STEPS ................................................................................................................. 323

BIBLIOGRAPHY

REFERENCES CITED .......................................................................................... 328

MUSICAL WORKS CITED ................................................................................. 334

LIST OF MUSICAL EXAMPLES

CHAPTER 1

Ex. 1.1: Organum over Viderunt omnes chant, attributed to Leonin by Anon IV. ...13

Ex. 1.2: Eleventh-century Viderunt omnes chant, which Leonin used as a cantus
firmus. ...............................................................................................13

Ex. 1.3: Dufays Nuper rosarum flores, first entrance of the isorhythmic tenors. ...14

Ex. 1.4: Terribilis est locus iste. ...............................................................................14

Ex. 1.5: Laus tua Deus troped into Gloria A. ...........................................................15

Ex. 1.6: Dufays Missa se la face ay pale, Kyrie. .................................................16

Ex. 1.7: Dufays Ballade, Se la face ay pale. ............................................................17

Ex. 1.8: Kyrie from Josquins Missa lhomme arm. ...............................................17

Ex. 1.9: Secular popular song, lHomme arme. ........................................................17

Ex. 1.10: Josquins Missa pange lingua, Kyrie. ....................................................18

Ex. 1.11: St. Thomas Aquinass Pange lingua gloriosi. ...........................................18

Ex. 1.12: Josquins Missa fortuna desperata, Kyrie. ............................................19

Ex. 1.13: Antoine Busnoiss ballade, Fortuna desperate. ........................................20

Ex. 1.14: Pitches from Taverners work, basis for In Nomine genre. ...................21

Ex. 1.15: John Bulls Walsingham, from The Fitzwilliam Virginal Book. ...........23

Ex. 1.16: William Byrds Walsingham, from The Fitzwilliam Virginal Book. .....23

Ex. 1.17: Opening of J. S. Bachs Sarabande and Partita in C Major, BWV 990. ...23

Ex. 1.18: Overture to Jean-Baptiste Lullys Bellrophon, LWV 57. ........................24

Ex. 1.19: Beginning of Corellis Op. 5, No. 12, variations on La Folia. ..............26

Ex. 1.20: Basis for J. S. Bachs Passacaglia in C Minor. .........................................27

vi

Ex. 1.21: Beginning of the second movement of Mozarts Piano Concerto No. 12, in
which the theme from J. C. Bachs overture appears. ......................29

Ex. 1.22: J. C. Bachs overture to the second act of Le calamita de cuori. .............29

Ex. 1.23: Entrance of the first student drinking song in the Academic Festival
Overture. ...........................................................................................32

Ex. 1.24: Wir hatten gebauet ein stattliches Haus. ................................................32

CHAPTER 2

Ex. 2.1: Final section of Ivess String Quartet No. 2, final movement, first violin. .35

Ex. 2.2: Quarter- and full-hour Westminster Chimes (also known as Cambridge or
Westminster Quarters). The original chimes at Great St. Marys,
Cambridge, are in F, while Big Ben tolls the hour on E. ..................35

Ex. 2.3: Beginning of aria I Know my Redeemer Liveth, from Handels


Messiah. ............................................................................................36

Ex. 2.4: Beethovens motive as used by Ives in his Concord Sonata. ......................37

Ex. 2.5: End of Ivess West London. ....................................................................38

Ex. 2.6: Mozarts Divertimento quoted in Music for the Magic Theater. ................43

Ex. 2.7: Beginning of the Adagio from Mozarts Divertimento, K. 287. .................43

Ex. 2.8: Allusion to measure 13 of the Adagio of Mahlers Ninth Symphony (1908)
in Magic Theater. ..............................................................................44

Ex. 2.9: Adagio from Mahlers Ninth Symphony, measures 11-13. ........................44

Ex. 2.10: Allusion to Dserts in Magic Theater. ......................................................45

Ex. 2.11: Passage from Dserts that Rochberg was quoting, at measure 242. .........46

Ex. 2.12: Passages from Magic Theater that utilize Pendereckis techniques
(strings only). ...................................................................................46

Ex. 2.13: Examples of these techniques in Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima. 47

Ex. 2.14: Rimsky-Korsakovs Flight of the Bumblebee, from The Tale of Tsar
Saltan. Piano arrangement by Sergei Rachmaninoff. .......................50

vii

Ex. 2.15: Introduction to Anaphylactic Shock!, from Three Dire Medical


Emergencies for wind ensemble, entrance of the piccolo
foreshadowing. ..............................................................................51

Ex. 2.16: Full quotation of Bumblebee in Anaphylactic Shock! .......................51

Ex. 2.17: Beginning of Faust Fantasy. .....................................................................54

Ex. 2.18: Motive from Faust, Faust Symphony, in the bassoons immediately before
rehearsal D. .......................................................................................54

Ex. 2.19: Some Mephistopheles music in Faust Fantasy. ........................................54

Ex. 2.20: Music from Mephistopheles in Faust Symphony, reduction. ................55

Ex. 2.21: References to the lyrical Gretchen/nostalgia themes in Faust Fantasy. 55

Ex. 2.22: Passage in Faust Symphony to which I was alluding, woodwind


reduction. ..........................................................................................55

Ex. 2.23: Passage referring to The Old Horse in the beginning of Shant. ............56

Ex. 2.24: The Old Horse. .......................................................................................57

Ex. 2.25: The Boys of the Ballinamore in Shant, clearly presented in cello part in
measure 53. .......................................................................................57

Ex. 2.26: The Boys of the Ballinamore. ................................................................57

Ex. 2.27: Motives from The Ballad of the Blind Sailors, referenced in Shant at two
simultaneous speeds. .........................................................................58

Ex. 2.28: The Ballad of the Blind Sailors. ............................................................58

Ex. 2.29: Across the Western Ocean, fleetingly alluded to in measure 108 of
Shant. ................................................................................................59

Ex. 2.30: Across the Western Ocean. ....................................................................59

Ex. 2.31: Bidin Fheilim in Shant. .......................................................................59

Ex. 2.32: Bidin Fheilim. .....................................................................................60

Ex. 2.33: Were All Bound to Go, reproduced almost verbatim in Shant, from the
pick-up to measure 150. ....................................................................60

viii

Ex. 2.34: Were All Bound to Go...........................................................................61

Ex. 2.35: Were All Bound to Go, referenced again briefly in Shants coda. .......61

CHAPTER 3

Ex. 3.1: Beginning of third movement of Sinfonia, winds only. ..............................69

Ex. 3.2: Beginning of Mahlers Scherzo, measures 5-13. ........................................69

Ex. 3.3: Passage directly before rehearsal H in the third movement of Sinfonia. ....70

Ex. 3.4: Beginning of the first return of the refrain in the Mahler, measure 149. ....71

Ex. 3.5: Passage at rehearsal BB in the Berio. ..........................................................72

Ex. 3.6: Analogous passage in the Mahler, from half way through the fourth refrain,
measure 260. .....................................................................................73

Ex. 3.7: Beginning of Rewriting Beethovens Seventh Symphony, strings only. ......80

Ex. 3.8: Measures 117-126 of Rewriting, strings only. ............................................81

Ex. 3.9: End of the second section of Rewriting, with its rhythmic Postminimalist
texture. ..............................................................................................81

Ex. 3.10: Beginning of the third section of Rewriting, winds only. .........................82

Ex. 3.11: String glissandi between the pitches of the F major scale encountered in
this section. .......................................................................................82

Ex. 3.12: Beginning of the fourth section of Rewriting, strings only. ......................83

Ex. 3.13: First theme of the fourth movement of Beethovens Seventh Symphony,
with its two main motivic cells highlighted. .....................................84

Ex. 3.14: Gordons reassertion of the theme, at measure 1257, at the entrance of the
thunder sheet. .....................................................................................84

Ex. 3.15: Example of off-set timpani at the opening of Beethovens fourth


movement. .........................................................................................85

Ex. 3.16: McLoskey using (027) and 025) sets to alter the harmonic character of the
Webern in measures 20 and 21. ........................................................87

ix

Ex. 3.17: McLoskey using the first row form from the Webern melodically in the
upper voices, in the independent portion of the first movement of
Quartettrope. .....................................................................................88
Ex. 3.18: Beginning of the second movement of Quartettrope. ...............................90

Ex. 3.19: Quoted motive as encountered in the second movement of the Webern,
measures 86-91. ................................................................................90

Ex. 3.20: Allusion to the B Minor Prelude No. 6 in measure 10 of Chopn. ............93

Ex. 3.21: Chopins Prelude No. 6, from Op. 28. ......................................................93

Ex. 3.22: Allusion to the Op. 28 Prelude No. 7 in Chopn. ......................................94

Ex. 3.23: Beginning of Chopins Prelude No. 7, from Op. 28. ................................94

Ex. 3.24: Reference to Chopins Op. 28 Prelude No. 4 and interleaved


quasi-cadenza. ...................................................................................95

Ex. 3.25: Measures 6-12 of Chopins Prelude No. 4. ...............................................95

Ex. 3.26: Beginning of Frederic and Franz in Chopn. .........................................96

Ex. 3.27: Passage from Chopins Etude No. 4, from Op. 10, measures 70-5. ..........96

Ex. 3.28: Passage quoted fully, against chaotic, timbrally dissonant fixed media. ..96

Ex. 3.29: Interrupted allusion to the end of the Etude No. 4 in Chopn. ..................97

Ex. 3.30: Arpeggio gesture at end of Chopins Etude No. 4. ...................................97

Ex. 3.31: Material from the Mazurka No. 45 in Chopn. .........................................98

Ex. 3.32: Beginning of Chopins Mazurka No. 45 in A Minor. ...............................99

Ex. 3.33: Reference to arpeggio figures in Chopins Etude, Op. 25, No. 12. in
measure 128 of Chopn. .....................................................................99

Ex. 3.34: Arpeggio figure in Chopins Etude, Op. 25, No. 12. ................................100

Ex. 3.35: Reference to measure 53s chromatic descending to passage in measure


134 of Chopn. ..................................................................................100

Ex. 3.36: Chromatic descending passage in the Etude, measures 53-5. ...................100

Ex. 3.37: Reduction of measures 297-300 of Movement I of Symphonie


Fantastique. ......................................................................................101

Ex. 3.38: Beginning of the first fast section of Mosaique, at measure 35. ...............102

Ex. 3.39: Measures 76-79 from Mosaique, winds and brass. ...................................104

Ex. 3.40: Measures 59-64 of Berliozs third movement. ..........................................104

Ex. 3.41: Passage at F in Mosaique, harp, percussion and strings.............................105

Ex. 3.42: Measures 359-65 of Un bal. ...................................................................106

Ex. 3.43: Measures 121-7 in the fourth movement of Fantastique, percussion and
strings. ...............................................................................................107

Ex. 3.44: Rehearsal H in Mosaique, harp through strings. .......................................108

Ex. 3.45: Subtractive rhythmic process shortening the repeated material at the end of
the passage. .......................................................................................108

Ex. 3.46: Rehearsal I in Mosaique, timpani through strings. ....................................109

Ex. 3.47: Measures 129-33 of the fourth movement of Fantastique, timpani through
strings. ...............................................................................................110

Ex. 3.48: Measures 7-10 of the second movement of Fantastique, strings. .............110

Ex. 3.49: Measures 29-34 of the fifth movement of Fantastique. ............................111

Ex. 3.50: Rehearsal J in Mosaique. ...........................................................................112

Ex. 3.51: Measures 195-7 of Mosaique. ...................................................................113

Ex. 3.52: End of the first movement of Fantastique. ...............................................114

Ex. 3.53: Coda of Mosaique. ....................................................................................115

CHAPTER 4

Ex. 4.1: Measures 11-12 from Haydns Piano Sonata No. 23 in F Major,
Hob.XVI:23. .....................................................................................119

Ex. 4.2: Possible clandestine quotation of this passage. ...........................................119

xi

Ex. 4.3: Melodic materials in OK-OK, whose pitches were drawn directly from
Parkers solo in Ko-Ko. Soprano sax solo, measures 35-43. ............124

Ex. 4.4: McLoskeys twelve-tone row, derived from the Parker solo. .....................125

Ex. 4.5: Repeated-note passage at rehearsal D that sequentially presents the row
in OK. ................................................................................................125

Ex. 4.6: Harmonic use of the row at rehearsal G, ordering noted. The second set of
ordering numbers refers to the inversion of the row based on its
initial pitch. .......................................................................................126

Ex. 4.7: Inversion of McLoskeys row, based on G. ................................................126

Ex. 4.8: Aleatoric passage in OK, measure 123. .......................................................127

Ex. 4.9: Final bars of OK, where the direct quotation from Ko-Ko occurs. .............128

Ex. 4.10: Transcription of the last 13 measures of Charlie Parkers solo from
Ko-Ko. ...............................................................................................129

Ex. 4.11: Opening of Mahlers Ninth Symphony, measures 3-6. .............................132

Ex. 4.12: Salomes leitmotif from the Strauss, first encountered in the opening bars of
the opera in the clarinet. ....................................................................132

Ex. 4.13: Beginning of Nimrod, from Elgars Enigma Variations, violins. .........132

Ex. 4.14: Opening of Sibeliuss Fourth Symphony, bassoons and cellos. ...............132

Ex. 4.15: Possible sources from Debussys Jeux, for Fallass 11 measures after
rehearsal 12. ......................................................................................133

Ex. 4.16: Opening of Nancarrow Meditations. ........................................................135

Ex. 4.17: Opening of Nancarrows Rhythm Study #1. ..............................................136

Ex. 4.18: Measures 17-21 of Meditations. ................................................................136

Ex. 4.19: Similar materials in Study #1, measures 5-6. ............................................136

Ex. 4.20: Measures 26-37 of Meditations. ................................................................137

Ex. 4.21: Measures 7-8 of Study #1. .........................................................................138

xii

Ex. 4.22: Measures 41-6 from Meditations. .............................................................139

Ex. 4.23: Measure 9 from Study #1. .........................................................................139

Ex. 4.24: Measures 47-8 of Meditations. . .................................................................140

Ex. 4.25: Juxtaposed allusions to measures 9 and 17-18 of Rhythm Study #1 and
rhythmic dissonance processes from measure 70-81. .......................140

Ex. 4.26: Measures 9 and 17-18 from Rhythm Study #1. ..........................................141

Ex. 4.27: Measures 100-109 from Meditations. .......................................................141

Ex. 4.28: Study #36, first page, third system. ...........................................................142

Ex. 4.29: Measures 117-21 from Meditations. .........................................................142

Ex. 4.30: 8:9 rhythmic dissonance in measures 132-4 of Meditations. ....................142

Ex. 4.31: Linear additive statement of extended thirds arpeggio in measures


148-51. ..............................................................................................143

Ex. 4.32: Source of this material in Study #36, third page, third system. .................143

Ex. 4.33: Measures 155-60 of Meditations, in which I shuffled and reflected the two
motives from the Nancarrow. ...........................................................144

Ex. 4.34: Study #36, fifth page, first system. ............................................................144

Ex. 4.35: Final bars of Nancarrow Meditations. ......................................................145

Ex. 4.36: Initial passage from Apollonian Echo, which uses a distortion and extension
of a cell from rehearsal 66 of Stravinskys Octet. ............................147

Ex. 4.37: Rehearsal 66 of the Octets finale, from which the opening gestures of Echo
are derived. .........................................................................................147

Ex. 4.38: Measures 9-16 of Echo, which draws both its scalar scaffolding and
separated tenuto notes from a reverse ordering of material from the
final passage of the Octet. .................................................................147

Ex. 4.39: Motive at rehearsal A in Echo, which references the trombones from 177-85
of the final movement of the Stravinsky. ..........................................148

Ex. 4.40: Final passage from Stravinskys Octet, measure 165-end. .......................148

xiii

Ex. 4.41: Transition between the middle and final movements of Stravinskys Octet,
which I used to generate accompaniment patterns in the section
beginning at rehearsal A. ..................................................................149

Ex. 4.42: Use of a motive from the beginning of the third movement of the Octet,
in Echo. ..............................................................................................150

Ex. 4.43: This motives location in Stravinskys Octet, in the first 6 measures of the
last movement. ..................................................................................150

Ex. 4.44: Linear rhythmic processes from measure 54-62 in Echo. .........................151

Ex. 4.45: Measures 153-5 of the last movement of the Octet, from which the
culmination of the linear rhythmic process in measures 54-62
was drawn. ........................................................................................151

Ex. 4.46: Flute part from measures 62-8 of Echo. ....................................................152

Ex. 4.47: Measures 154-6, of the Octet, brass. .........................................................152

Ex. 4.48: Measures 69-74 of Echo. ............................................................................152

Ex. 4.49: Measures 153-9 of the Octet, flute, whose retrograde I used, and measures
17-19, clarinet. ...................................................................................152

Ex. 4.50: Rehearsal E in Echo, winds and horn. .......................................................153

Ex. 4.51: Measures 79-84 of Echo, with Stravinskys theme alluded to in the viola
and oboe. ...........................................................................................153

Ex. 4.52: Beginning of Stravinskys theme in the second movement of the Octet. .154

Ex. 4.53: Measures 85-97 of Echo, with its additive process based on Stravinskys
theme, flute through violin I. ............................................................154

Ex. 4.54: Second part of Stravinskys theme, measures 5-8. ....................................155

Ex. 4.55: Measures 101-3 of Echo, presented with measures 39-41 of the first
movement of Stravinskys Octet, for comparison. ...........................156

Ex. 4.56: Measures 104-6 of Echo, and 167-9 of the Octet. . ....................................157

Ex. 4.57: Measures 107-12 of Echo. .........................................................................158

Ex. 4.58: Measures 113-17 of Echo. .........................................................................159

xiv

Ex. 4.59: Measures 118-21 of Echo. .........................................................................160

Ex. 4.60: Measures 122-24 of Echo. .........................................................................160

Ex. 4.61: Measures 125-32 of Echo. .........................................................................161

CHAPTER 6

Ex. 6.1: Example of a percussive, incisive trumpet passage from Movement I of


Necessary Steps. ................................................................................201

Ex. 6.2: Example of a trumpet passage added into the saxophone version that I
decided to keep. Movement I, rehearsal J, brass only. .....................202

Ex. 6.3: Example of chromatic approach in Necessary Steps in the flute and clarinets,
in measures 15-17. ............................................................................205

Ex. 6.4: Dominant, Dorian/Minor, and Mixed Bebop Scales. ..................................205

Ex. 6.5: Measures 39-52 of Steps, strings only. 5- and 4-cycles begin in earnest in the
third system. ......................................................................................206

Ex. 6.6: First encounter with the ide fixe, in the solo trumpet (transposed to C),
measures 52-9. ..................................................................................206

Ex. 6.7: Measures 104-13 of the first movement of Steps, brass section. ................209

Ex. 6.8: Strings and soloist at measure 119. .............................................................209

Ex. 6.9: Ide fixe, measures 137-43 (transposed to C). ............................................210

Ex. 6.10: Cadenza from the first movement of Steps. ..............................................210

Ex. 6.11: Ide fixe in the last macro-section of Initial Steps, first in the low strings
in measures 159-62, then in the solo trumpet (here transposed to C), in
measures 170-5. ................................................................................211

Ex. 6.12: End of the first movement of Steps, brass and strings. .............................212

Ex. 6.13: Crux of the arch form of Measured Steps. .............................................215

Ex. 6.14: Ide fixe in the first A section of Leaps, measures 14-18 and 24-8. ......220

Ex. 6.15: First B section, with independent rhythmic cycles in the harp and
percussion parts. ................................................................................221

xv

Ex. 6.16: Metric dissonance in the second A section of Leaps, measures 42-54,
trumpet soloist and strings. ...............................................................222

Ex. 6.17: Metric grouping dissonance in measures 55-67 of Leaps, brass and low
strings. ...............................................................................................223

Ex. 6.18: Soloists 6:4 metric grouping dissonances and reference to the ide fixe, in
measures 65-76. ................................................................................224

Ex. 6.19: Second macro B section in Leaps, q =100. ............................................226

Ex. 6.20: Drum solo in accompanied duet with trumpet soloist, measures 99-105. .227

Ex. 6.21: Final use of the ide fixe in Steps, right before the coda at the end of
Leaps, measures 118-26. ...............................................................229

Ex. 6.22: Measures 1-7 and 10-18 of Initial Steps, winds and soloist. .................232

Ex. 6.23: Measures 18-19 and 10 of Coltranes solo. ...............................................232

Ex. 6.24: Ide fixe of Necessary Steps and measures 7 and 23 from Coltranes
solo. ...................................................................................................232

Ex. 6.25: First line of cadenza and micro-quotations from measures 118 and 18 of
Coltranes solo. .................................................................................233

Ex. 6.26: Second line of cadenza, mirror of measure 10, and other micro-
quotations. .........................................................................................233

Ex. 6.27: Third and fourth lines of the cadenza. .......................................................234

Ex. 6.28: Piccolo gesture in the second movement and measure 2 of the solo. .......234

Ex. 6.29: Melodic clandestine quotation in the solo trumpet part in the beginning of
Measured Steps. ............................................................................235

Ex. 6.30: Ending of Measured Steps, solo trumpet, measure 38 through the end, and
borrowed cells. ..................................................................................236

Ex. 6.31: Beginning of Leaps and pertinent cells from Coltranes solo. ..............237

Ex. 6.32: Textural cells drawn from Giant Steps, in Initial Steps, measure 6-7. ..239

Ex. 6.33: Measure 106 of the solo and measures 61-64 of Initial Steps. ..............240

xvi

Ex. 6.34: Measure 106 of the solo and measures 64-8 of Initial Steps, strings
and winds. .........................................................................................241

Ex. 6.35: Measures 24-25 of Coltranes solo, and measures 109-13 of Initial Steps,
strings and winds. ..............................................................................242

Ex. 6.36: Measure 6 from Coltranes solo and 152-5 of Initial Steps, strings
only. ..................................................................................................243

Ex. 6.37: Measures 14-18 of Leaps, strings only, and measures 6-7 and 135-6 of the
solo. ...................................................................................................244

Ex. 6.38: Measures 44-54 of Leaps, strings only, and micro-quotation sources. .244

Ex. 6.39: Measures 55-64 of Leaps, strings only, and micro-quotation sources. .245

Ex. 6.40: Measures 65-68 of Leaps, strings only, and micro-quotation source. ...246

Ex. 6.41: Measures 69-71 of Leaps, strings only, and micro-quotation source. ...247

Ex. 6.42: Bebop fragments in measures 68-72 of Initial Steps, winds and soloist,
and their sources in Coltranes solo, measures 9-11. ........................248

Ex. 6.43: Measures 124 and 127 in Initial Steps, winds only, and pertinent
measures from Coltranes solo, 63 and 10. .......................................248

Ex. 6.44: Moments of Steps where the drum set references bebop and jazz
idioms. ...............................................................................................249

xvii

LIST OF FIGURES

CHAPTER 1

Fig. 1.1: Humphrey F. Sassoons case for thematic borrowing and structural modeling
in Musical Offering. ..........................................................................25

Fig. 1.2: Maurice Browns case for Chopin borrowing from Rossinis Ladra. .......31

CHAPTER 2

Fig. 2.1: The unsung text of the allusion to Masons There is a Fountain, in
West London. ...............................................................................38

Fig. 2.2: Burkholders interpretation of the relationships between Ivess song


and Masons .......................................................................................39
CHAPTER 3

Fig. 3.1: Losadas reduction of an insertion of a climax from La valse into an


obliterated climax of the Mahler. ......................................................75

Fig. 3.2: Losadas comparison graph of the dramatic contours of the third movement
of Sinfonia and the Scherzo from Mahlers Symphony No. 2. .........76

CHAPTER 4

Fig. 4.1: John Fallass reduction of Holloways First Symphony, from rehearsal 12,
highlighting interleaved quotations used by the composer. ..............131

Fig. 4.2: Harmonies expressed in measures 138-49 of Meditations. ........................143

Fig. 4.3: Harmonic structures in measures 161-70 of Meditations. ..........................145

CHAPTER 6

Fig. 6.1: Harmonic plan of the first minute and ten seconds of Necessary Steps, and
diagrams of pertinent harmonic structures. .......................................204

Fig. 6.2: Coltrane changes in Giant Steps. ................................................................204

Fig. 6.3: Half-step and common tone harmonic relationships in measures 51-72. ...207

Fig. 6.4: Harmonic structures in measures 84-93. ....................................................208

Fig. 6.5: Final harmonic plan of Measured Steps. ................................................214

xviii

Fig. 6.6: Diagram of the macro Golden Sections of Necessary Steps. .....................214

Fig. 6.7: Rhythmic cycles running counter to the over-meter in Measured


Steps. ...............................................................................................217

Fig. 6.8: Formal plan of Leaps. Possible formal interpretation as seven-part also
included, below composers analysis. ...............................................218

Fig. 6.9: Harmonic structures from measure 11-24 of Leaps. ...............................219

Fig. 6.10: Graph of rhythmic dissonance cycle patterns in the first B section of
Leaps. ...........................................................................................221

Fig. 6.11: Harmonic structures in the central A2 macro-section of Leaps. ...........225

Fig. 6.12: Graph of rhythmic dissonance cycles in this section and process completion
points. ................................................................................................226

Fig. 6.13: Harmonic structures in the final sections of Leaps. ..............................229

Fig. 6.14: Seventh chord substitution pattern used in Measured Steps. ..................250

xix

LIST OF TABLES

CHAPTER 5

Table 5.1: The topics posited for Romantic music by Dickensheets and Grabcz,
noted by Agawu. ...............................................................................182

Table 5.2: Mirkas twentieth-century topics. .............................................................183

Table 5.3: General continuum of possible manipulations of borrowed material. ......189

CHAPTER 6

Table 6.1: Original ratio plan for harmonic motion in Measured Steps.................213

Table 6.2: Deviations from the original ratios in the harmonic plan of Measured
Steps, italicized pairs of chords repeated and underlined chords
chromatically altered. .........................................................................251

xx

INTRODUCTION

The primary aim of this dissertation is to explore the techniques of micro-

quotation and clandestine quotation as generative compositional resources, specifically in

relation to the accompanying doctoral composition, Necessary Steps (2014). Clandestine

quotation is defined in this text as a composers use of preexisting music in a fashion that

is not necessarily readily perceivable or meant to be referential or particularly evocative,

but is nevertheless of technical importance to the compositional process. Micro-quotation

can be thought of as a sub-type of this technique, in which the borrowed materials are so

brief or generic as to significantly reduce their referential impact. While not attempting to

be specifically symbolic, a composer may use these techniques in a variety of

applications. Without explicitly operating within a genres context, they can be used as a

method for evoking a specific stylistic oeuvre. Similarly, they may be used as a way to

engage with the vernacular of an intended audience or personal aesthetic preference.

Another possible application of micro-quotation is to access a reservoir of

materials which can provide the new music with an inherent source of compositional

unity, to the extent that such unity exists in that reservoir. This can allow ideas drawn

from the same source to interact in new ways, while still maintaining an undercurrent of

organic self-similarity. The benefits afforded the composer by this built-in unifying factor

recommend its usage in a variety of contexts. A composers use of source-similar

material, meaning material quoted from a single source, but not necessarily recognizable

or easily identifiable as such, may imbue the music with certain cohesive properties. This

allows materials to be recontextualized and freely manipulated within a new framework,

1

2

while still maintaining, even if only on a subconsciously-perceivable level, an underlying

coherence that can be generated by the unity of the source music

This compositional approach is employed in Necessary Steps, and my intent is

that this technique has helped to achieve such unity. However, this compositional

procedure will only produce this result in direct proportion to the source musics internal

logic and coherence. The underlying musical principles of John Coltranes composition

Giant Steps make it an excellent source for this type of organizational transmission in

Necessary Steps. Moreover, my choice to draw material from not only a single composer

and work, but a specific recording of that work, lends the source a particularly refined

specificity that might increase the reservoirs capacity for internal coherence.

Another use of clandestine quotation is to inflect a works language with existing

musical aesthetics which may be of interest to that pieces composer, whether historical

or exocultural. This compositional device also offers composers greater subtlety in

accessing particular traditions that they choose to reference and allows for sophisticated

narrative and symbolic play, due to the varying degrees of perceptual hierarchy afforded

by it. Through the use of particular source materials, composers may subtly inform their

work with allusions to a vast spectrum of genres, cultures, and epochs. The

recontextualization of fragments or stylistic traits from vernacular music into an art music

context, to cite one possible source for such borrowing, is reflected in one of the

dominant compositional trends of today: the loose grouping of Postminimalist streams

that Kyle Gann and, more recently, Jason Stanton have referred to as Totalism.1

To examine the methods of and motivations for quotation in a musical



1
Kyle Gann proposes the term in his article A Forest from the Seeds of Minimalism: An Essay


3

composition, the general traits of particular practices must be defined and categorized.

Therefore, this dissertation also seeks to identify specific modi operandi exhibited in

works that utilize quotation, and determine specific distinguishing features that will help

consign these methods to distinct categories of perceptibility and rhetorical impact.

Writings by Peter Burkholder and Christopher Reynolds, among others, significantly

inform this discussion. Burkholders writings about the music of Charles Ives and his

efforts to codify the ways in which allusion has been practiced by composers throughout

history are particularly useful in this discussion.

Burkholders work deals with parsing particular avenues of borrowing, while

Reynolds has written about composers motivations for the practice. Any discussion of

the application, perceptibility, and aesthetic consequences of quotation must consider

both of these perspectives carefully, but taken alone may not provide a holistic view of

the musical significance of a given instance. While not mutually exclusive, the taxonomy

proposed in this essay generally groups instances of quotation into three categories:

direct, recognizable, and referential quotation; significantly manipulated, juxtaposed, or

structural quotation; and clandestine or micro-quotation. Each of these carries its own

distinct set of signifiers and functions which impact the rhetorical outcome of the

borrowing. This enables the placement of examples from the literature into at least one of

these categories, or at a point on a continuum between them.

This essay compiles prominent examples of each application of quotation as a

compositional device, with the aim of helping to identify the various degrees and

methods of manipulation utilized by prominent twentieth- and twenty-first-century

composers in their quotational practices. The overall purpose of this survey and


4

examination of musical quotation is not intended to present a unified field theory of the

practice across musical epochs and traditions, but instead to provide an overall context

for contemporary practice, and specifically in reference to the accompanying doctoral

composition. It is hoped, however, that the end result of this overview may help to shed

light on the twenty-first-century culmination of the tradition of import and allusion as

employed by modern-day practitioners of musical borrowing.

Chapter 1 is devoted to a brief survey of historical musical precedent, beginning

with the Medieval practices of trope and cantus firmus, and continuing through to the end

of the nineteenth century. Such works as Dufays Nuper rosaurm flores, Machauts Missa

le Nostre dame, Josquins Missa lhomme arm, W. A. Mozarts Piano Concerto No. 12,

Johannes Brahmss Academic Festival Overture, Frederic Chopins posthumous

Polonaise in B-flat Minor are discussed here, in addition to several others. This list is by

no means complete, and other works are touched upon as their salience warrants. The aim

of this broad survey is to provide an appropriate historical context for musical quotation

and to inform subsequent discussion of more recent examples of the practice.

The next three chapters are each devoted to particular approaches to quotation

used by concert music composers of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries in their

works, separated according to those approaches placement in the proposed taxonomy of

perceptibility. This essay is confined to the repertoire of Western concert music for two

main reasons: the overwhelmingly broad scope of the subject matter, and my own

specific areas of knowledge and interest.

Chapter 2 examines works in which quotation has an identifiable, referential,


5

rhetorical impact, including quotation which is easily perceivable, at least to a listener

who has a familiarity with the source music. Works by Charles Ives and George

Rochberg, as well as some of my own compositions, are presented and discussed here.

Special attention is paid to works that contain quotations that may be construed as overtly

referential in a programmatic context. Supporting extra-musical materials, such as

interviews and articles, are included to inform a speculative discussion of composer

intent in the use of this particular type of quotation.

Chapter 3 deals with works which have identifiable quotations used in a

generative fashion, in which the borrowings rhetorical impact as a signifier is secondary

to its role in the organization of surface or structural elements of the music. In these

cases, the quotation is often not meant to be understood or perceived as programmatic or

referential, but instead functions as a compositional element of personal or technical

interest. These works exist in a taxonomical twilight between the ones which use

quotation as a programmatic, rhetorical device, and those in which the quotation is

intentionally and successfully obscured. A distinction is made here between modeling,

working in common or traditional forms, and collage. Works by Luciano Berio, Michael

Gordon, and Lansing McLoskey are featured in this chapter, as are some of my own

works. The varying degrees of saturation and diversity of source material are discussed,

as are the perceptually hierarchical distributions encountered in the examples.

Chapter 4 examines music which engages in clandestine quotation and micro-

quotation, using borrowed musical elements in a fashion not readily perceivable to the

listener, but which may nonetheless function as important organizing factors on both

foreground and deeper structural levels. This compositional technique is mainly


6

examined in relation to compositions by this author, as particular examples of this

practice by other composers, without full knowledge of their compositional process, are

by their very nature difficult to detect. The borrowing practices of composer Lansing

McLoskey are touched upon here, however, as their discussion is informed by an October

2013 personal interview with the composer, so they may be examined with a reasonable

degree of insight and authority. The relationship of this compositional technique to those

encountered in some of the previous examples is also discussed, and the distinction

between structural modeling, clandestine quotation, and working within standard forms is

revisited here as well.

Certain other examples of this type of borrowing, such as recent works by Robin

Holloway, which according to the composer contain quotation, seem to employ a more

subtle and covert form of it that is difficult to relate back to the source, even if the listener

is made aware of its presence. Assertions about Holloways music are supported in part

by a personal interview with the author, conducted in October 2014, as well as by the

research of other scholars. Similar claims can be made about particular works of Ives, and

certain scholars have suggested that the idea of secret quotation may even be encountered

in the works of composers from much earlier epochs.2 A brief discussion of the aesthetic

and stylistic idiosyncrasies in these composers technical usage of borrowed materials is

included here, but it is more fully fleshed out in the next chapter.

After this examination of the various compositional techniques utilizing quotation

and their resultant musical effects, chapter 5 is devoted to exploring the philosophical and

rhetorical ramifications of their methods and contexts. Referential quotation is probably



2
For example, Dillon Parmer, in his article Brahms, Song Quotation, and Secret Programs,
discusses Brahmss quotation of themes from his vocal music to make specific references in his
instrumental music.


7

the most common method, and is also the most easily identifiable. One example of this is

the ideological or sociopolitical commentary evident in a composers quotation of

particular nationalistic or patriotic music, such as the borrowings of patriotic tunes in the

music of Ives and Debussy. Referential quotation can also communicate a composers

relationship with the music of the past, or attempt to convey to the listener a particular

psychological state evoked by historically reinforced musical topics. The interplay of

multiple streams of quotation within a work and the implications of their relative

functions in the dramatic plan and hierarchy of materials is also discussed here. Kofi

Agawu and Chris Reynoldss writings on linguistic interpretations of music are

considered in interpreting these relationships. While much of the work that has been done

in this particular field is oriented towards the music of the eighteenth and nineteenth

centuries, the principles and lexicon can be adapted to more recent music.

The rhetorical consequences of the different categories of quotational technique

and the differing strategies employed by composers in their use of borrowed material are

addressed in this chapter as well. The outcomes of these approaches are discussed, as are

different perspectives and interpretations of how meaning is conveyed by these practices.

Direct referential quotation is addressed, as are various ways in which allusions might be

communicated musically. Examples from the literature are referenced to demonstrate the

ways in which shades of connotation are imparted and the implications of multiple

streams of referential borrowing within the same composition.

Textual association and its varying degrees of effectiveness in communicating a

reference is also discussed in this chapter. The degree of manipulation applied to

borrowed materials, while having been discussed in previous chapters, is revisited here


8

through the lens of their particular effects. The level of perceptibility engendered by a

quotations placement in the musical hierarchy of a work is also discussed, as is the

impact of different levels and types of saturation. The composers options in terms of the

various parameters of the use of quotation are addressed, such as the percentage of the

texture that is constructed of imported material, the number of different quotations

present, whether the allusions are drawn from one source or many, etc., all contributing to

particular effects. The aesthetic of ambiguity is also discussed here, as is the tipping point

at which reference is negated by saturation, eclecticism, and genericness, illustrated by

pertinent examples from the literature.

The use of quotation to access a desired aesthetic is also touched upon in this

chapter, and with it the effects of this practice not only on the work itself, but on the

composers process and identity. The validity of a Postmodernism interpretation of

quotation is discussed here, as are the issues attendant to interpreting quotation as

functioning in this fashion. The question of composer intent and the issues of honesty and

self-awareness when dealing with writings by and interviews with composers are

examined here through the lens of my own personal experience as a composer and the

writings of other composers about their own music. Also touched on are certain ethical

considerations in regards to quotation, both in terms of a composers borrowing, and also

in terms of the interpretation of such techniques on the part of the listener and analyst.

Finally, this chapter delves into the ramifications of the compositional techniques

of clandestine quotation and micro-quotation. The manifest problems in definitively

identifying these types of quotation in a work, both with and without extra-musical

composer input, are duly considered. The notion that quotation can exist as a structural


9

element, while simultaneously existing in other streams of quotational function is

discussed as well. The relationships between borrowed materials and the composers own

newly formed structures is discussed, particularly as it relates to micro-quotation, and

questions about musical ownership, technical aesthetic reciprocity, and borrowed

legitimacy are touched on and, if not settled, at least acknowledged. My own general

ideas in regard to the overarching philosophical and rhetorical consequences of and

motivations for quotation are presented here, informed by pertinent writings on the

subject and referring to previously discussed music and other examples as their salience

warrants. My opinions regarding the benefits afforded to the composer in utilizing these

techniques and their effects on my own compositional process concludes the chapter.

Chapter 6 begins with a discussion of some examples of the usage of micro- and

clandestine quotation in my music, to demonstrate the evolution of my use of these

techniques and their culmination in the accompanying doctoral composition, Necessary

Steps. This work draws on the my transcription and study of John Coltranes

improvisations on Giant Steps, David Demseys transcriptions of multiple studio takes of

the work as performed on the 1960 recording of the same name, and its harmonic patterns

and improvisational style. Various general features of Coltranes musical language and

the genre of bebop jazz in general are also employed as resources. The first section of the

chapter presents an analysis addressing the conception of the piece, compositional

devices used in its creation, and various temporal, harmonic, and formal structures of

note in the work. The second portion deals specifically with the various corridors of

musical borrowing that the concerto employs, noting their varying levels of perceptibility


10

and impact.

The final chapter presents the composition Necessary Steps. Necessary Steps is a

concerto for trumpet and orchestra which is approximately fourteen minutes in duration.

The composition is comprised of three movements, each of which uses clandestine and

micro-quotation of material from Coltranes Giant Steps in various ways. Different

elements of the source material are imported, altered, and recontextualized, from both the

solo and chord changes of the original work. While the concerto does import musical

molecules from Giant Steps, I use them in a fashion consistent with the techniques of

micro- and clandestine quotation discussed previously, with very few instances of direct

referential quotation. Rather, it is hoped that use of material from this self-consistent,

musically coherent source contributes to the overall unity of the new composition, while

also engaging in an interesting recontextualization of the borrowed music. Materials were

generally selected based on my own aesthetic preferences, although characteristic

gestures and patterns that permeate the source music were given particular consideration.

Additionally, the fusion of the inherent musical properties of the imported materials with

my own compositional language creates interesting juxtapositions and impacts the

aesthetic outcome of the concerto in a positive fashion.



CHAPTER 1

HISTORICAL PRECEDENTS AND CONTEXT




In embarking upon an examination of quotation as it is used in twentieth-century

and contemporary works, it would be prudent to first take a look back. One cannot

properly contextualize or hope to begin to understand the ramifications of such a

ubiquitous and diversely employed practice without at least a cursory overview of its

history and evolution. As stated in Stravinskys Poetics, A real tradition is not the relic

of a past irretrievably gone; it is the living force that animates and informs the present.3

Furthermore, some contemporary composers choose to couch their quotational techniques

in the terms and idioms of the past, whether quoting the music of those times, or utilizing

other borrowed materials in a manner consistent with historical practices.

Borrowing can be traced back, in one form or another, to some of the earliest

examples of notated music. 4 One might also confidently assert that similar practices

likely preceded this epoch, although concrete evidence is absent. The line between

quotation and organic stylistic intermingling and imitation, however, would have been

less distinct before the advent of notation, as an oral tradition of music consists of each

generation imitating and varying the compositions of the one before. Such a pattern of

modeling might easily be confused with allusory borrowing, but the two practices are

distinct. In any case, artists have always been fascinated with making the new out of the

old; There are understandable political, social, and spiritual motivations for artists to


3
Stravinsky, Poetics of Music in the Form of Six Lessons (New York: Vintage Books, 1960), 58.
4
For a broad and succinct list of the different types of the use of existing music operative across
historical eras, see appendix 2 of Peter Burkholders The Uses of Existing Music: Musical Borrowing as a
Field.

11

12

connect themselves with the established tradition, while simultaneously projecting their

own artistic voice and desire to innovate into their new compositions.

Medieval and Renaissance

One of the earliest examples of this practice in the notated repertoire is the

melismatic organum of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, which consisted of entirely

new music over a bass line derived from a preexisting chant. While there was also secular

music occurring at this time, which probably would have used the same or similar

practices, the great majority of the music of the Medieval period that was written down

and preserved was sacred music. Sacred composers were bound to create music that

served to deliver the liturgy of the Catholic Church with a reasonable degree of

intelligibility of the text and adherence to the tradition, limiting their inclination to

compose innovative works that were not strongly connected to preexisting music.

Compositions that were not directly linked to the tradition and the liturgy were

considered undesirable by the Church.

The composition of entirely new music over a durationally augmented chant tune,

was an early solution to foster new musical creation. The chant was still present and

representative of the liturgical function, but could provide a framework in which new

music might be composed. This procedure is almost an inversion of what we would

typically think of as quotation today, with an overwhelming presence of previously-

composed material providing the framework for the new music, rather than the other way

around. An excellent example of this practice can be encountered in Leonins setting of

Viderunt omnes, a Gradual from the Mass Propers, composed in the mid-to-late twelfth



13

century. The original chant melody is presented in extreme rhythmic augmentation in the

tenore, while new, freely composed music is in the upper voice.

Ex. 1.1: Organum over Viderunt omnes chant, attributed to Leonin by Anon IV.

Ex. 1.2: Eleventh-century Viderunt omnes chant, which Leonin used as a cantus firmus.

This practice of incorporating chant melodies and, later, secular tunes, into new

sacred works persisted through to the Baroque era, although the actual method of

quotation changed over time. The isorhythmic motet of the late Medieval era and early

Renaissance sometimes employed quotation techniques in the form of adopting a portion

of an existing chant as the color used in the isorhythm. A clear example of this is



14

Guilliame Dufays motet Nuper rosarum flores (1436), which takes for its color the chant

Terribilis es locus iste.

Ex. 1.3: Dufays Nuper rosarum flores, first entrance of the isorhythmic tenors.

Ex. 1.4: Chant that gives Nuper its color, Terribilis est locus iste.

Another Medieval precursor to quotation is the practice of trope. The term is used

here to describe the historical compositional practice, not as it is used to describe the

fusion of musical topics. Trope can also be thought of as an inversion of what we would

today consider quotation: Source music was not imported into a new, substantially

original work, but rather limited quantities of new music were inserted into

a preexisting older work. Trope is an umbrella term for almost any addition of new music

or text into a chant. Groves defines the practice as



15

[The] name given from the 9th century onwards to a number of
closely related genres consisting essentially of additions to pre-
existing chants. Three types of addition are found: (1) that of a
musical phrase, a melisma without text (unlabeled or called trope
in the sources); (2) that of a text to a pre-existing melisma (most
frequently called prosula, prosa, verba or versus, though some-
times also trope, in the sources); (3) that of a new verse or verses,
consisting of text and music (most frequently called trope, but also
laudes, versus and in certain specific cases farsa, in the sources).5

Examples of this practice are too plentiful to bear enumeration here. And,

complicating matters further, much of this music was anonymously composed.

Representative instances of the practice can be found in versions of all of the Mass

Propers and Ordinaries, although some of these chants were more commonly troped into

than others.6 One of the earliest Gloria tropes, for example, is the Laus tua Deus, a tenth

century addition connected with a particular Gloria melody of the time, commonly

referred to as Gloria A. The Laus tua Deus trope begins in the second measure of the

second line.

Ex. 1.5: Laus tua Deus troped into Gloria A.


5
Alejandro Enrique Planchart, Trope, In Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, OUP,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/28456 (accessed October 16, 2013).
6
Ibid.



16

The Renaissance polyphonic mass used quotation of chant and popular music in

more complex ways than its Medieval predecessor. Early cantus firmus masses shared

the basic principles of melismatic organum, in which the source was rhythmically

augmented in a lower voice. In contrast, these new works further subsumed the chant or

popular tune into the texture by often-times quite complex polyphony above it, and

sometimes below it if the cantus firmus was used in the tenor voice over an independent

bass. Dufays Missa se la face ay pale (mid-fifteenth century) is a famous example of

this type of mass. The polyphonic texture and the fact that the cantus firmus exists in the

tenor line here might make it difficult to identify as being derived from the source, the

tenor line of a chanson composed by Dufay about fifteen years earlier. In an interesting

side note, contemporary composer David Lang also quoted Dufays Se la face ay pale

in his work Face So Pale (1992), for six pianos.

Ex. 1.6: Dufays Missa se la face ay pale, Kyrie.



17

Ex. 1.7: Dufays Ballade, Se la face ay pale.

Josquins Missa lhomme arm super voces musicales (fifteenth century) also

uses cantus firmus technique, although there are fragments of the secular tune in the other

voices, foreshadowing subsequent developments in polyphonic mass composition.

Ex. 1.8: Kyrie from Josquins Missa lhomme arm. Note contour of discant entrance.

Ex. 1.9: Secular popular song, lHomme arme.



18

Techniques of importation that grew out of the cantus firmus tradition are also

encountered in parody masses and paraphrase masses. Examples of these can both be

identified in Josquins output. His Missa pange lingua (ca. 1515) is a prime example of

paraphrase mass, the Kyrie of which is shown in Ex. 1.10. This type of mass utilized the

source chant or popular tune in fragmentation across all the voices and developed them

freely and was hinted at in Josquins earlier works, as mentioned above. The source

material he used in this work was the chant Pange lingua gloriosi, by St. Thomas

Aquinas, shown in Ex.1.11.7

Ex. 1.10: Josquins Missa pange lingua, Kyrie.

Ex. 1.11: St. Thomas Aquinass Pange lingua gloriosi.


7
Another slightly earlier example of paraphrase technique can also be found in Martinis Missa
domenicalis (fifteenth century).



19

Josquins Missa fortuna desperata (fifteenth century) similarly exemplifies the

quotation technique of the parody mass, drawing material from the secular Busnois

polyphonic ballade of that name.8 Instead of merely taking the melodic line of the source

material, parody masses imported entire polyphonic fragments of the source into the new

composition, re-texting them, sometimes with multiple different texts, and integrating

them into the newly composed, imitative texture. All of these practices certainly might

make it difficult to discern the original source, unless the audience were intimately

familiar with the source materials and listening critically.

Ex. 1.12: Josquins Missa fortuna desperata, Kyrie.


8
It is important to note that at this time the term parody did not carry the same connotations of
humor or irony that it does today.



Fortuna desperata 20
Antoine Busnois
(1430 - 1492)
Ex. 1.13: Antoine Busnoiss ballade, Fortuna desperata.



For - tu - na, for - tu - na de - spe - ra - - - ta, de -





For - tu - - - - na, for - tu - na de - spe - ra - ta, de -



For - tu - - - na de - spe - - - - ra - - - - ta, de -



spe - ra - ta, in - i - - - - qua e ma - - - le -


spe - ra

- ta in - i - -


spe - ra - ta, in - - - - - i - - - - - - qua, ma - le - di -

The
In
Nomine
instrumental works of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,
di - cta che di tal do - na e - le - - - - - - - cta

as basisa fragment
their from
a Taverner (sixteenth
century)
took
which mass based
on
qua ma - le - di - - - - - - - cta
cantus
che di tal do - na
the chant Gloria tibi Trinitas, used Taverners


theme as an alto
firmus, with freely

composed
cta, material
ma - le - in
di the- other
- voices.
cta, Many
che important
di tal English
do - composers
- - - - contributed
- na to
amongst
thisgenre, them
Tye, Tallis, Byrd, and Purcell.
Dowland,
Bull, Gibbons, There

la fa - ma, la fa - - ma ay

composers
by 58English fromthesixteenth
and

are over 150 surviving examples
e
seventeenth - le
centuries, - cta
suggesting that manylamore
fa - -
may ma
actually have been composed.9 A
ay



varied example of en masse quotation from a single source can hardly
more prolific
e - -
and
- - - le - cta la fa - ma, la fa - - - ma, ay

be inthe annals of Western music



found history.


de - ne - - - - ga - - ta, ay de - ne - ga - - - - - - - ta.



de - ne - - - - ga - - - - ta, ay de - - ne - - ga - ta.



de - - ne - ga - - - - ta, ay de - - ne - - ga - ta.


9
In Nomine, in The Oxford Companion to Music, Oxford Music Online, OUP, http://www.
oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/opr/t114/e3426 (accessed November 18, 2013).



21

Ex. 1.14: Pitches from Taverners work, basis for In Nomine genre.

Source: In Nomine, The Oxford Companion to Music, Oxford Music Online, OUP, http://
www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/opr/t114/e3426 (accessed November 18, 2013).

There is no evidence that Taverner himself was responsible for any of these

arrangements, but many subsequent English composers set his melody as an alto cantus

firmus in their instrumental and keyboard works, with stylistically diverse original

counterpoint in the other voices. Modern English composers continue to add to the genre,

including Peter Maxwell-Davies and Roger Smalley. Additionally, over forty-two

original works were composed in the twentieth century for the Witten Broken Consort

Book (2004), a collection of modern In Nomines commissioned by Freiburgs

Ensemble Recherch and dedicated to Harry Vogt, director of the Witten Tage fr neue

Kammermusic.10

Variation and Baroque Practices

In the Baroque era, the idea of quotation and the use of preexisting music within

the context of a new work flourished in the form of the variation, and continues to do so

through modern times. Although variations existed prior to this era, such as the

instrumental diferencias of the Renaissance, the affinity that Baroque composers had

for this method of utilizing previously composed material in new compositions led to a

proliferation of this genre. The Baroque variation might be best regarded as a distinct

kind of reinterpretation, separate from the practice of borrowing within the context of a

10
James Mannheim, Review of In Nomine: The Witten Broken Consort Book, Allmusic.com,
http://www.allmusic.com/album/in-nomine-the-witten-in-nomine-broken-consort-book-mw0001006340
(accessed November 21, 2013).



22

new work. The justification for this delineation seems twofold: First, variations on a

previously existing theme might be said to be a derivation of that previously composed

music and is an extension thereof, like an arrangement or quodlibet, without necessarily

containing particular connotative reference or extra-musical significance. Second, the

referential borrowing most commonly encountered in variation form in the Baroque was

that of style, not material.11 It is thus questionable whether works of this character truly

belong in a survey of quotation. However, many Baroque variations do take advantage of

preexisting material, so they ought to at least be addressed in this survey.

The variation form can be construed as operating in two main streams: variation

of newly-composed themes or of themes from ones previous works, and variation of the

music of others, which is of greater salience to this essay. Furthermore, this latter

category can be subdivided into variation on vernacular tunes and variation on the themes

of other art music composers. An example of composers basing variations on a popular

tune is the use of the Elizabethan air Have with Yow to Walsingame by John Bull and

William Byrd (late sixteenth to early seventeenth century), both of which are included in

The Fitzwilliam Virginal Book.


11
Peter Burkholder, Borrowing, in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, OUP,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/52918 (accessed June 23, 2014).



23

Ex. 1.15: John Bulls Walsingham, from The Fitzwilliam Virginal Book.

Ex. 1.16: William Byrds Walsingham, also from The Fitzwilliam Virginal Book.

Art music composers also borrowed tunes from one another in their variation

works. J. S. Bach used a paraphrase of music from the overture to Jean-Baptiste Lullys

Bellrophon (1679) as the theme for his Sarabande and Partita in C Major, BWV 990

(pub. 1894).

Ex. 1.17: Opening of J. S. Bachs Sarabande and Partita in C Major, BWV 990.



24

Ex. 1.18: Overture to Jean-Baptiste Lullys Bellrophon, LWV 57.

The distinction between art and vernacular musical sources is also blurred in

certain cases, such as in J. S. Bachs Musical Offering (1747). While this work ostensibly

uses a vernacular subject posed to Bach as a challenge by Frederick II, Humphrey

Sassoon has noted the themes similarity to one of Handels, perhaps leading to the

conclusion that Frederick borrowed the theme himself. Furthermore, Sassoon

postulates that Bach may have recognized it and used Handels Six Fugues or Voluntarys

for Organ or Harpsichord (ca. 1711-18) as a structural model for parts of the new work.12

While the evidence for this early instance of structural modeling in variation form is

somewhat tenuous, it is indeed fascinating, if true.


12
Humphrey F. Sassoon, JS Bach's Musical Offering and the Source of Its Theme: Royal
Peculiar, The Musical Times 144, no. 1885 (Winter 2003): 38-39.



25

Fig. 1.1: Sassoons case for thematic borrowing and structural modeling in Musical Offering.

Source: Humphrey F. Sassoon, JS Bachs Musical Offering and the Source of Its Theme:
Royal Peculiar, The Musical Times 144, no. 1885 (Winter 2003): 39.



26

Not only is this work interesting in its implications in regards to Bachs possible

structural borrowing, it is also worth noting in passing that this theme has been in turn

quoted multiple times by modern composers. The theme became a subject for a

klangfarbenmelodie reworking by Webern (1935) and also a subject of allusion for Sofia

Gubaidulina to symbolize the idea of sacrifice in her Offertorium (1980).13

Variation form also developed from typical harmonic patterns or from common

melodies, such as the La Folia tune, or Lutheran chorale tunes. Chorale ricercare

used chorale tunes in the manner of a chorale motet, subjecting the themes to fugal

treatment, while chorale partitas and fantasias freely varied them.14 The La Folia was

an especially popular choice for variation form, treated most famously by Corelli (1700),

but also by Vivaldi (1705), Frescobaldi (1615), Lully (1672), Bach (1742), Liszt (1867),

and Rachmaninoff (1932).15

Ex. 1.19: Beginning of Corellis Op. 5, No. 12, variations on La Folia.


13
Joseph Straus, Recompositions by Schoenberg, Stravinsky, and Webern, The Musical
Quarterly 72, no. 3 (1986): 301, and Sofia Gubaidulina, My Desire Is Always to Rebel, to Swim Against
the Stream!, trans. Vera Lukomsky, Perspectives of New Music 36, no. 1 (Winter 1998): 26. Gubaidulina
uses the theme in such a way that, by the end of the work, the theme itself becomes shorter and shorter, in
effect steadily being sacrificed.
14
Burkholder, Borrowing.
15
Fola, La, in The Oxford Dictionary of Music, 2nd ed. rev., Oxford Music Online, OUP,
http://www.oxford musiconline.com/subscriber/article/opr/t237/e3870 (accessed June 23, 2014).



27

Baroque variations, in addition to incorporating stylistic tropes from European

sources, also made frequent use of the chaconne (a term which later became

interchangeable with passacaglia), which Burkholder asserts was originally derived from

Mexican dance music.16 While there is no extant notational evidence that this is the case,

Alexander Silbiger notes that [literary] references by Cervantes, Lope de Vega,

Quevedo, and other writers indicate that the chacona was a dance-song associated with

servants, slaves and Amerindians.17 J. S. Bachs Passacaglia in C Minor, BWV 582 (ca.

1730), not only used the conventional chaconne pattern, but also quoted a Raison

passacaglia in part of its ostinato and emulated textures and procedures from

Buxtehudes Passacaglia in D minor.18

Ex. 1.20: Basis for J. S. Bachs Passacaglia in C Minor.

One caveat must be observed in ascribing the role of quotation to instances of

similar themes encountered in Baroque music. The Doctrine of Affect, or Affektenlehre,

was used by many composers of this era to attempt to evoke certain emotional or

psychological states. Rene Descartes set out six basic states in his 1649 Passions of the

Soul, and the ways in which composers might express these ideas musically were set out

in texts such as Johann Matthesons 1739 Der Vollkommene Capellmeister.19 The


16
Burkholder, Borrowing.
17
Alexander Silbiger, Chaconne. in Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, OUP, http://
www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/05354 (accessed December 12, 2013).
18
Burkholder, Borrowing.
19
Rene Descartes, The Passions of the Soul, trans. Stephen Voss (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett
Publishing, 1989) and Johann Mattheson, Der Vollkommene Capellmeister, ed. Ernest Charles Harris (Ann
Arbor, MI: UMI, 1981).



28

existence of these common ideas about the expression of certain musical gestures,

therefore, led to many composers using similar music to express specific rhetorical ideas.

This situation should be taken into account when attempting to make assertions about

musical borrowing by Baroque composers. The same could be said for the common

musical topics encountered in Classical and Romantic music.

Classical and Romantic Borrowing

The practice of variation was carried forward into the Classical period, when

composers began to practice musical borrowing with greater finesse and nuance. It

became more common, for instance, for technical allusion or compositional process

modeling to occur, as is exemplified by Mozarts Haydn quartets. In her article The

Haydn-Dedication Quartets: Allusion or Influence? Jan La Rue points out that, while

thematic similarities between the music of both composers is superficial, a convincing

case can be made that Mozart was alluding to particular idiosyncratic continuation

models and thematic variation processes that Haydn often used in his works.20

Mozart also notably included a much more direct musical epigraph in his Piano

Concerto No. 12, K. 414 (1782), in which he alluded to J. C. Bachs overture to La

calamita de cuori (1763).21 J. C. Bach was a friend of Mozarts and his recent death may

have prompted the younger composer to include this theme in the second movement of

his concerto.


20
Jan La Rue, The Haydn-Dedication Quartets: Allusion or Influence?, The Journal of
Musicology 18, no. 2 (Spring 2001): 361-73.
21
Marius Flothius, Mozarts Piano Concertos (Amsterdam: Rodolphi, 2001), 25.



29

Ex. 1.21: Beginning of the second movement of Mozarts Piano Concerto No. 12, in which the
theme from J. C. Bachs overture appears.

Ex. 1.22. J. C. Bachs overture to the second act of Le calamita de cuori.

From the late Classical into the Romantic period, attitudes towards quotation and

borrowing in music changed markedly. The general musical climate during this period

began to value originality as the mark of quality. At the same time, composers frequently

used quotation as a meaningful symbolic device with greater subtlety and refined

intertextuality. In his Motives for Allusion, Christopher Reynolds writes about audience

and critical response in the Romantic period to so-called reminiscence hunting. This

was the growing audience practice of focusing on listening for quotations in a new work,

at the expense of appreciating the piece for its artistic merits.22 This was met with public


22
Christopher Reynolds, Motives for Allusion (Cambridge: HUP, 2003), 3-4.



30

outcry over the possibility that composers might be pandering to this appetite and an

attitude that such reminiscences ought to be treated as plagiarism.

Reynolds notes that published essays from the mid-nineteenth century were

critical of the pressures this practice placed on young composers, such as Brahms, and

quotes L. A. Zellners essay in the Viennese Blatter fur Musik, Theater und Kunst, in

which he writes One hears no verdict, especially, about new compositions, more often

than this: this or that idea is stolen from here or there.23

These changing attitudes did not entirely dissuade composers from the custom of

borrowing, however. The practice of composing variations on another composers themes

continued apace, but often with a more nuanced approaches. While Chopin composed

traditional variations on a theme by Rossini in his Variations for Flute and Piano in E

Major (1824), it has also been noted that an obscure paraphrase of Rossinis music may

have been included in one of the composers other works, as well. A young Chopins use

of the aria from La gazza ladra (1817), Vieni fra questra braccia, in his Polonaise in B-

flat Minor (1826) has been noted by certain scholars, and is supported by the composers

markings in the manuscript.24


23
Ibid., 3-4.
24
Maurice Brown, Some Chopin Bypaths, The Musical Times 95, no. 1338 (August 1954): 415-
16. Chopin wrote an epigraph in the score of the polonaise, meant as a farewell gift to a boyhood friend:
Au revoir! after an aria from Gazza Ladra. Brown notes that Chopin might have chosen to quote this aria
because of the lyrics: Come to these arms, my heart leaps in my bosom, expressing the fondness he had
for his friend.



31

Fig. 1.2: Maurice Browns case for Chopin borrowing from Rossinis Ladra.

Source: Maurice Brown, Some Chopin Bypaths, The Musical Times 95, no. 1338 (August
1954): 416. Re-engraved here for legibility.

Another example of a Romantic composer who had no qualms about the practice

of allusion is Johannes Brahms. In addition to his orchestral Variations on a Theme by

Haydn (1873), which takes as its theme that composers setting of the St. Anthony

Chorale, Brahms composed several keyboard works which borrowed the themes of

others. Music by Handel, Paganini, Schumann, and folk materials all provided

inspirations for the composer. His Op. 80 Academic Festival Overture (1880) was a

tongue-in-cheek response to an honorary degree bestowed upon him by the University of

Breslau, in which he quoted well-known drinking songs that the student body present at

the premiere would have immediately recognized.25 It opens with music based on the

Radezsky March, followed by references to Wir hatten gebauet ein stattliches Haus,

Der Landesvater, Was kommt dort von der Hhe, and Gaudeamus igitur, which are

all quoted in a directly recognizable and referential fashion.


25
Academic Festival Overture, in The Oxford Dictionary of Music, 2nd ed. rev. Oxford Music
Online, OUP, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/opr/t237/e50 (accessed September 20,
2014).



32

Ex. 1.23: Entrance of the first student drinking song in the Academic Festival Overture.

Ex. 1.24: Wir hatten gebauet ein stattliches Haus, the song on which this passage is based.

This brief survey of the history of the practice of musical borrowing through the

Romantic period is admittedly incomplete and many interesting and prominent examples

of the custom have been omitted. This is a necessary omission, however. As Peter

Burkholder notes in the introduction to his annotated bibliography on musical borrowing,

this is such a wide field of study that it necessitates the work of more than any one

scholars lifetime to reach a comprehensive understanding of the matter, if indeed any

semblance of such completeness is even possible. However, the broad overview

presented here serves to lend context to the ensuing chapters and is intended to provide

some idea for the reader of the wide-ranging and multi-faceted nature of musical

borrowings rich tradition.





CHAPTER 2

DIRECT, RECOGNIZABLE, AND REFERENTIAL QUOTATION




Perhaps the most easily discussed form of musical allusion is direct and

referential variety, which hearkens back to another work and potentially transfers aspects

of its connotations into the new composition. This is due to the concrete connection

caused by easily recognizable features of the source material, such as genre, program, and

associated text. A composers motive or intent in the allusion is not always straight-

forward, however. While extra-musical features sometimes may aid us in our conjectures,

interesting and illuminating as they can often be, great care must be taken in making

definitive statements about intended rhetorical meaning. Burkholder notes that borrowing

for this purpose has been happening since the fifteenth century, although he draws the

distinction that earlier allusion was mainly for the purpose of referring to the text of vocal

music, whereas more complex quotations meant to evoke programmatic ideas associated

with an instrumental work or social music did not become prominent until later.26

The use of direct, referential quotation to create a rhetorical effect can be of great

utility to the composer, but, in my opinion, they should endeavor to use finesse and

subtlety in applying this technique. While using texted music to refer to that text is a

relatively oblique avenue of reference, and therefore comparably safe from the pitfall of

heavy-handed clich, importing symbolically-loaded music without care for context or

with bluntness can lead the composer down a dangerous road of hackneyed and gauche,

crudely fashioned symbolism. Examples of such clichs readily present themselves, such


26
Peter Burkholder, The Uses of Existing Music: Musical Borrowing as a Field, Notes (Second
Series) 50, no. 3 (March 1994): 869-70.

33

34

as the use of the harmonic minor or pentatonic scale to evoke non-Western musics, or

heavy-handed references to the Dies Irae or Holsts Mars to connote wrath or war

respectively. However, with a firm grasp of subtlety and a modicum of respect for the

musical materials and audience, this technique can become an effective and valuable

compositional tool for conveying meaning. One composer who adroitly employed this

type of referential quotation with subtlety and sophistication is Charles Ives.

Charles Ives

Ives frequently used quotation on all of the levels of perceptibility with which this

essay is concerned, and often with symbolic interplay occurring between these levels.

This chapter will restrict itself with examining his forays into the direct and referential

variety of borrowing. A clear and straightforward example of this exists in his String

Quartet No. 2 (1913). The last movement of the quartet, subtitled The Call of the

Mountains, evokes cathedral bells tolling in the distance and the associated feelings of

awe and majesty. The effect of this musical image is strengthened by the incorporation of

a quotation of Westminster Chimes, as has been pointed out by Christopher

Ballantine.27 Ballantine also interprets the way that the material is developed as a

secularization of the aural image,

through being sundered from its cathedral setting and placed in a mountain
setting. This distortion of the image and the beatification of its associations
precisely this quotation of chimingare what make Ivess point: which we might
suggest (bearing in mind the musical disagreements in the previous movement)
by saying that the unity of man with his own kind, and the surpassing of the
duality of man and nature, are to be perceived in terms of a privilegedindeed
transcendentalmoment of illumination such as that portrayed here in music.28


27
Christopher Ballantine, Charles Ives and the Meaning of Quotation in Music, The Musical
Quarterly 65, no.2 (April 1979): 171-2.
28
Ibid.


35

Ballantine also notes that Ives operates at the end of this work in a non-texted

referential framework. He calls the readers attention to the evocation of carillon by way

of the tune, and also the extra-musical associations of the genre and context of the

reference, regardless of any textual associations. While the allusion is evocative and

effective, and, while there are musicological justifications for interpreting the reference

through a framework of transcendentalism, this author might suggest that one would need

to be careful in making these kinds of assertions without a priori knowledge of the

composers intent.

Ex. 2.1: Final section of Ivess String Quartet No. 2, final movement, first violin.

Ex. 2.2: Quarter- and full-hour Westminster Chimes (also known as Cambridge or Westminster
Quarters). The original chimes at Great St. Marys, Cambridge, are in F, while Big Ben tolls the
hour on E.


36

It is also worth noting that the Westminster Chimes themselves make an allusion

to the soprano aria I Know my Redeemer Liveth, from Handels Messiah. Author John

Harrison draws attention to a 1907 article by W. W. Starmer which presents

correspondence documenting the origin of the chime tune, which was drawn from the

fifth and sixth measures of Handels aria by William Crotch, the undergraduate assistant

of the faculty member tasked with composing the chime tune, Dr. Joseph Jowett.29

Ex. 2.3: Beginning of aria I Know my Redeemer Liveth, from Handels Messiah. Note the
descending gesture from the fifth measure into the sixth, echoed again by the bass from the sixth
into the seventh.

Ballantine also points to another example of Ivess use of this non-textual

association, namely the incorporation of the motive of Beethovens Fifth Symphony into

his Concord Sonata (pub. 1919). He notes the semantic network of associations, posited

by Daniel Woodridge, as making a reference to the abolition movement, through the

clenched fist symbol, and the often-referenced association of Beethovens motive as

representing fate knocking at the door.30


29
John Harrison, Tolling Time, Music Theory Online 6, No. 4 (October 2000): 16. http://www.
mtosmt.org/issues/mto.00.6.4/mto.00.6.4.harrison.html (accessed September 12, 2014).
30
Ballantine, 172. Ballantine refers to a passage in Daniel Wooldridges Charles Ives: A Portrait
(London: Faber, 1975), 305.


37

Ex. 2.4: Beethovens motive as used by Ives in his Concord Sonata.

Ives also frequently used text-based referential allusions, although, as

aforementioned, these can be employed with a higher degree of nuance by the composer,

engendered by the extra layer of interpretability gleaned from the nature of the text, and

thus can make it more difficult for the listener or analyst to say with any certainty what

the composer was trying to convey. This is especially true with regard to the music of

Ives, whose use of allusion often not only engages in play between the artifacts of the

quotations themselves as they exist on the surface of the music, but also between their

varying levels of prominence and perceptibility. An excellent example of this nuanced

situation can be encountered in Ivess song West London (pub. 1922). Two different

Ives scholars, Peter Burkholder and Chris Ballantine, hear the same hymn quoted at the

end of the song, yet perceive two different rhetorical meanings. Ballantine hears the

wordless refrain of Masons hymn tune as an alien artifact meant to transmit a serious

image which negates the easy optimism and flip-ness of the sung text, invoking the

image of the sinners purification in blood.31


31
Ballantine, 173.


38

Fig. 2.1: The unsung text of the allusion to Masons There is a Fountain, in West London.

There is a fountain filled with blood


Drawn from Emanuels veins;
And sinners drenchd beneath its flood
Lose all their guilty stains

Ballantine points to the passage at the end of West London, noting that is drawn from

Lowell Masons setting of William Cowpers gory poem.

Ex. 2.5: End of Ivess West London.

Burkholder, on the other hand, hears the passage as intrinsically linked to the rest

of the song, interpreting the entire vocal line as a paraphrase of Masons hymn tune, but

is quick to caution that this is not a case of deeper-level structural modeling. This is due

to surface-level melodic features that he finds in common between London and the

original hymn.32 Burkholder posits that it is not an isolated allusion at all, but is a

reference to Ivess systemic paraphrase procedure in this song, drawing parallels between

melodic elements of both West London and There is a Fountain.


32
Peter Burkholder, Quotation and Emulation in Ives Use of his Models, The Musical
Quarterly 71, no. 1 (1985): 1-26.


39

Fig. 2.2: Burkholders interpretation of the relationships between Ivess song and Masons.

Source: Peter Burkholder, Quotation and Emulation in Ives Use of his Models, The
Musical Quarterly 71, no. 1 (1985): 21.

If one is to take Burkholders view, this passage is a sort of Rosetta stone

epigraph by which the listener or analyst can divine the origin of the works generative

material. If this is the case, then perhaps this song is better an example of hidden,


40

clandestine quotation, which will be discussed in a later chapter. Either interpretation of

the impact of the quotation can be argued, although a listener might need a deeper

understanding of the music to perceive it the way Burkholder suggests. What Ives himself

meant the quotation to convey is, of course, ultimately unknowable, but differing

perceptions of the result are certainly possible. Thus, it can be seen that even in the case

of what appears to be direct, referential quotation, complexities of interpretation and

shades of meaning on multiple levels may occur.

Music for the Magic Theater

George Rochberg, for many years a Modernist, serial composer, turned away

from that musical language after his family was struck by deep personal tragedy. In

searching for an alternative means of musical expression, he returned to the use of

tonality in many of his works since the 1960s, often borrowing from historical works

couched in this idiom, in addition to works of the twentieth century and exocultural

musics. For Rochberg, the Modernist vocabulary came to represent a necessary

extension of musical thought into previously avoided borderland states of consciousness,

essentially dark, unstable, psychologically covering a spectrum from neurosis to

psychosis33

In writing about his technique of borrowing musical materials from the past,

Rochberg invoked the Keats quote, all poetry is of one mind, and the idea of art

drawing on the collective subconscious mind of humanity.34 He also wrote about thinking

of time in a radial, rather than linear fashion. This egalitarian stance towards the historical


33
George Rochberg, Five Lines Four Spaces: The World of My Music (Champaign, IL: University
of Illinois Press, 2009), 143-5.
34
Ibid., 31-2.


41

tradition might account for Rochbergs borrowing from Mozart, Brahms, and Beethoven

as readily as from Varse and Schoenberg, as well as from his own previous

compositions.35

Rochbergs Music for the Magic Theater (1965) contains lengthy and easily-

perceivable direct quotations of historical music, as do several of his other post-1960s

works. Contextualized within the composers previous output and that of his

contemporaries, this technique is almost jarring in its effect, and yet Rochberg claims that

it is not meant to be particularly programmatic or referential, but the rhetorical effect in

the context of the pieces seems perceivable as such.36 He does, however, write that he

associates Magic Theater with elements of Hermann Hesses Steppenwolf, drawing the

title from that novel. Presumably Rochberg is referring to themes such as ennui, eternity,

temporal flux, and the hallucinatory experience. This association is also borne out by the

inclusion of Mozart in both works, as a musical borrowing and as a character

respectively.

The most obvious allusion in this work is the importation of the Adagio from

Mozarts Divertimento No. 15, K. 287 (1777), which is presented at the beginning of

Movement II of Magic Theater with minimal changes in register and expanded

orchestration. The whole movement is included, excepting the final two measures, and

even comes to rest on the same G dominant seventh that is held with a fermata in the next

measure, though instead of the traditional improvised violin cadenza that would

otherwise appear here, Rochberg chooses this moment to elide into a solo trumpet


35
David Metzer, Quotation and Cultural Meaning in Twentieth-Century Music (New York: CUP,
2003), 114.
36
Ibid., 150.


42

passage that he designates to be played like Miles Davisintense, felt, singing.37

Rochberg does stipulate, however, that his established motive of three descending minor

seconds, when it occurs in the allusion, may be optionally reinforced by harmon-muted

trumpets. In this fashion he highlights his own motive when it occurs in the borrowed

music.38

In addition to Mozart and Miles Davis, Rochberg also alludes to Beethoven,

Mahler, Webern, Penderecki, Stockhausen, Schoenberg, and Varse in Magic Theater.

Music that has this level of quotational density has been referred to as collage music by

scholars such as Catherine Losada and Peter Burkholder. Burkholder defines collage

music as the juxtaposition of multiple quotations in such a way that each element

maintains its individuality and the elements are perceived as having been excerpted from

many sources and arranged together, rather than all sharing common origins.39

Additionally, Losadas 2004 dissertation on this specific type of musical borrowing

discusses in great detail the various ways in which composers such as Rochberg

juxtaposed and elided their mosaic tiles.40 Her research will be returned to in a later

chapter, pertaining to the music of Luciano Berio.

Some of the shorter quotations in the Rochberg, especially those found in the

outer movements, are more discreet and might not function as referential for the listener,

unless they are particularly astute and musically educated. The importation of the Mozart,


37
George Rochberg, Music for the Magic Theater (Bryn Mawr, PA: Presser, 1972), 71
38
Ibid., 58.
39
J. Peter Burkholder, Collage, In Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online, OUP,
http://www.oxfordmusic online.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/A2240547 (accessed October 9, 2014).
40
Catherine Losada, A Theoretical Model for the Analysis of Collage Music Derived from
Selected Works by Berio, Zimmermann, and Rochberg (PhD diss., CUNY, 2004).


43

however, would certainly be perceived and evoke, if not the particular piece, then at least

the style of his music, or Classical period music in general.

Ex. 2.6: Mozarts Divertimento quoted in Music for the Magic Theater.

Ex. 2.7: Beginning of the Adagio from Mozarts Divertimento, K. 287.


44

In writing about composing Magic Theater, Rochberg claimed that his choice to

quote Mozart and Mahler, the two most prevalent historical imports, was governed by

practical considerations. In addition to choosing works that contained the three note

chromatic (012) trichord motive he uses at other points in the piece, Rochberg wanted

music that would hold its own against the atonal material with which he planned to

juxtapose it. For Rochberg, Mozart was sturdy enough to withstand any nontonal music

I pitted it against, and Mahler was the last great tonal voice of the line that stretched

from Mozart into the first decades of the twentieth century.41

Ex. 2.8: Allusion to measure 13 of the Adagio of Mahlers Ninth Symphony (1908) in Magic
Theater.

Ex. 2.9: Adagio from Mahlers Ninth Symphony, measures 11-13.


41
Rochberg, Five Lines, Four Spaces, 152-3.


45

Thus, while claiming not to intend direct reference to the particular works, Rochbergs

choice of materials was nevertheless influenced by the distinctiveness and historical

significance of the composers in question.

In the first movement, subtitled by the composer in which the past and present

are all mixed up, and the last, in which we realize that only the present is really real

because it is all we have, there are also numerous quotations of Modernist music from

the twentieth century. Catherine Losada notes, for instance, the presence of an allusion to

Varses Dserts (1954) at rehearsal 4 and describes the fashion in which the newly

composed music that connects it to the previous Mahler quote smoothly traverses the

pitch space between the two and anticipates the Varse.42 While there are a few

transformations of the borrowed material, there are certainly enough points of similarity

to confidently assert that the material is drawn from the Varse.

Ex. 2.10: Allusion to Dserts in Magic Theater.


42
Catherine Losada, Between Modernism and Postmodernism: Strands of Continuity in Collage
Compositions by Rochberg, Berio, and Zimmerman, Music Theory Spectrum 31, no. 1 (Spring 2009): 104.


46

Ex. 2.11: Passage from Dserts that Rochberg was quoting, at measure 242.

Also included in Magic Theater is a passage that closely mirrors Krzysztof

Pendereckis aleatoric extended string techniques, which are encountered in many of the

composers works from the 1960s, such as Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima (1960),

Polymorphia (1961), and Flourescences (1962). Rochberg uses Pendereckis distinctive

notation for these techniques, and, in a note to the conductor, says that what is desired is

an ensemble of noisechaotic, without shape or form43

Ex. 2.12: Passages from Magic Theater that utilize Pendereckis techniques (strings only).


43
Rochberg, Magic Theater, 80.


47

(Ex. 2.12, contd.)

Ex. 2.13: Examples of these techniques in Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima.


48

(Ex. 2.13: contd.)

The effect of these and other Modernist allusions juxtaposed against the tonal

references is quite striking and invites their comparison by the listener. Taking into

account Rochbergs characterization of the emotional and psychological impact of the

Modernist language, in conjunction with his poetic descriptions of the movements, one

might suppose that his intended rhetorical impact was to convey nostalgia for the music

of the past in the light of the, to use his words, boiled down starkness of Modernism.

This supposition is further bolstered by the state of mind engendered by events in the

composers life around the time this work was composed. The theme of finding ways to

cope with existence in the face of ongoing suffering is also one encountered in Hesses

Steppenwolf, to which the title of Magic Theater alludes.

In Quotation and Cultural Meaning in Twentieth-Century Music, David Metzer

interprets the meaning of the tonal quotations in Magic Theater as seeming initially to


49

function as musical gestures that are able to provide resolutions through cadences, but as

the allusions are often cut off before resolution can take place, they create a sense of

wistful nostalgia for a lost past that is unresolved.44 While this is one interpretation of the

effect of the allusions, Rochberg himself describes the process of creating a texture out of

these quotes in an almost meditative fashion, allowing the imagination to roam freely

without the impediment of making fresh textures and contexts, when dealing with tonal

allusions, and a boiling out of atonal materials, reducing them to the common

denominators that unite essays in that language and allowing them to be freely

juxtaposed.45

To summarize, even though Rochberg chose to write that his borrowings in Magic

Theater were not particularly referential, reasonable evidence exists to show that his

compositional decisions were influenced by semiotic features of the borrowed music that

set up a certain musical grammar. Given this underlying psychological logic, one might

easily interpret the allusions in this work as operating in a narrative or representative

fashion. What play of musical symbols is perceived by the listener is of course subjective,

and the depth and subtlety of the aesthetic experience also depends on the listeners

apprehension of the references and whether or not they agree with Rochbergs

interpretation of the emotional and psychological symbolism of the Modernist and

Classical vocabularies.

Three Dire Medical Emergencies

Easily-perceivable referential quotation is present in some of my own

compositions, as well. In my Masters thesis, Three Dire Medical Emergencies for wind

44
Metzer, 121-3.
45
Rochberg, Four Lines, Five Spaces, 146-7.


50

ensemble (2010), I employ a quotation of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakovs famous orchestral

interlude Flight of the Bumblebee, from The Tale of Tsar Saltan (1900). Each of the

movements of Emergencies is programmatic of the onset and resolution of a particular

life-threating event, namely Ballpoint Tracheotomy!, Anaphylactic Shock!, and

Cardiac Arrest! In the central movement, after some lively introductory material

loosely imitating the character of Beethovens Sixth Symphony and meant to evoke a

rustic outdoor scene, the suggestion of the quotation begins to emerge in the piccolo,

though it is only chromatic passagework intended to foreshadow the actual allusion. The

real quotation is encountered in the trumpet in measure 33 and tossed back and forth to

the flutes and oboe. It ends with a slap-stick crack and subsequent triangle note against

cloudy chords in the horns and vibes, which I meant to evoke the sting and injection of

venom into the body.

Ex. 2.14: Rimsky-Korsakovs Flight of the Bumblebee, from The Tale of Tsar Saltan. Piano
arrangement by Sergei Rachmaninoff.


51

Ex. 2.15: Introduction to Anaphylactic Shock!, from Three Dire Medical Emergencies for wind
ensemble, entrance of piccolo foreshadowing.

Ex. 2.16: Full quotation of Bumblebee in Anaphylactic Shock!


52

This allusion is certainly prominent and is meant to clearly communicate the

entrance of the bee into the narrative of the music. It may in retrospect have been a little

heavy handed, however, as such a recognizable quotation, without a broader context of

referential borrowing throughout the work, might make it seem out of place. Nowhere

else in the piece do I employ direct quotation, hidden or otherwise, so the effect could

seem to some to be that of a photo clipping pasted into the middle of an oil paintinga

jarring clash of techniques. However, the generally light, tongue-in-cheek tone with

which I dealt with the deadly-serious programs might serve to mitigate any incongruity

caused by this passage through humorous context. At the climax of Ballpoint

Tracheotomy!, for example, the winds and brass are required to blow air through their

instruments, a musical pun on the medical procedure.

The use of the borrowed bumblebee is also interesting in that I do not merely

state it once outright, but repeat it and manipulate its rhythm and orchestration. In doing

this, I was attempting to bring the Rimsky-Korsakov theme more into line with the

overall lexicon of this work, which is very dependent on playing with expectations

regarding rhythmic regularity. I also put great thought into the moment of the sting,

with the bee melody landing on the slapstick clap, which is then followed by the

triangle, representing the slightly delayed start in reaction to the sensation of the sting.

Faust Fantasy

Another composition in which I used direct, referential quotation is Faust Fantasy

(2010). The borrowed material which I employed in this solo piano work is from Franz

Liszts Faust Symphony (1857). I decided to take for my inspiration Liszts leitmotifs for

Faust, Gretchen, and Mephistopheles, though I relied most heavily on the latter two, as I


53

was thinking of the performer as loosely taking on the role of Faust. In the Liszt, Fausts

leitmotifs are somber and stark, though his pensive and introspective nature is portrayed

through the use of symmetrical harmonic structures and chromaticism. The Gretchen

themes are often light, lyrical, and folk-like, though the nostalgia theme is related to

her material and shows greater depth through chromaticism and variety of intervallic

content. The Mephistopheles music, with its almost atonal degree of chromaticism,

driving rhythms, and distortions of previous themes, evokes the malignancy and

capriciousness of the demon.

The method of allusion I employed here is slightly more nuanced than in the

previously discussed work. Although the leitmotifs are still perceivable and meant to be

referential, I paraphrased and reharmonized them, keeping elements of the gestures, but

also extending and connecting them with my own continuations, in a manner Losada

might characterize as chromatic insertion and rhythmic plasticity.46 My intention in

employing these allusions was to import some of the symbolism of the motives from the

Liszt to create an inter-textual relationship, also referring back to Gethes archetypes of

Faust, Mephistopheles, and Gretchen, and their various characteristics. A foreknowledge

of the Liszt or the Gethe therefore ought not to be necessary for the narrative of the

music to be successful, as Liszts representation of the characters in his work, to my ear,

effectively conveys their attributes musically. In this way, the allusions to Liszts motives

contribute to the narrative content of Faust Fantasy.


46
Losada, A Theoretical Model, 100-1. Losada defines chromatic insertion as freely
composed, often atonal music in between collage quotations, and rhythmic plasticity as a free
manipulation of the rhythmic profile of borrowings to facilitate transitions. The examples she cites of this
latter technique exhibit a wide range of manipulations, from simple meter change to quite free degrees of
malleable elasticity. Her terminology will again be employed later in this essay.


54

Ex 2.17: Beginning of Faust Fantasy.

Ex. 2.18: Motive from Faust, Faust Symphony, in the bassoons immediately before rehearsal D.

Ex. 2.19: Some Mephistopheles music in Faust Fantasy. The chromatic runs also figure heavily
into the Mephistopheles movement from the Liszt.


55

Ex. 2.20: Music from Mephistopheles in Faust Symphony, reduction.

Ex. 2.21: References to the lyrical Gretchen/nostalgia themes in Faust Fantasy.

Ex. 2.22: Passage in Faust Symphony to which I was alluding, woodwind reduction.

Shant

Another, more recent work of mine that uses referential quotation is the string

quartet Shant (2014). This work uses techniques of clandestine and micro-quotation,

which are discussed in a later chapter, but it also uses direct referential allusion to the


56

Irish nautical work songs from which the quartets generative materials are drawn. This

allowed for a rich musical interplay between the perceptibility of various elements of the

different tunes, and created a built-in stylistic unity, also discussed in a later chapter.

Traditional tunes such as The Old Horse, Were All Bound to Go, Boys of the

Ballinamore, Ballad of the Blind Sailors, Across the Western Ocean, and Bidin

Fheilim are all incorporated into this work, with greater and lesser degrees of

perceivability and intended referential impact.47

The use of The Old Horse in the beginning of Shant is recognizable, but is

presented in juxtaposition against newly composed music. It is subjected to rhythmic

manipulation and integrated into the overall texture, differentiating this usage from a

mere setting or orchestration of the theme. The chorus gesture is alluded to in the viola

part, again with a freely manipulated rhythmic profile, to mask the borrowing slightly.

Ex. 2.23: Passage referring to The Old Horse in the beginning of Shant.


47
In composing this work, I used for reference James Healys transcriptions of these traditional
tunes. James N. Healy, Irish Ballads and Songs of the Sea (Cork, UK: Mercier Press, 1967).


57

Ex. 2.24: The Old Horse.

The Boys of the Ballinamore is mainly used in Shant as a textural molecule,

whose material is the culmination of a linear additive process that permeates the first

section after the introduction, an example of the more occluded types of borrowings

discussed in later chapters. The quoted music is presented at the completion of this

process in its totality, however, and is clearly audible in the cello part at measure 53.

Ex. 2.25: The Boys of the Ballinamore in Shant, clearly presented in cello part in measure 53.

Ex. 2.26: The Boys of the Ballinamore.

The Ballad of the Blind Sailors is fairly clearly presented in the next section of

Shant, after a newly composed extension appended to the previous allusion. Here,

however, the quotation is fragmented and motives from the borrowed shanty are

combined into a texture which references them at two distinct and simultaneous tempi.


58

Ex. 2.27: Motives from The Ballad of the Blind Sailors, referenced in Shant at two simultaneous
speeds.

Ex. 2.28: The Ballad of the Blind Sailors.

Not all of the shanties are used in such recognizable ways, however. Across the

Western Ocean is mostly quoted in fragments, interweaved with newly composed

material. In its most exposed entrance it is presented in the viola in measure 108, though

the mode is altered and the tune is quickly fragmented and combined with other motives.


59

Ex. 2.29: Across the Western Ocean, fleetingly alluded to in measure 108 of Shant.

Ex. 2.30: Across the Western Ocean.

Bidin Fheilim, which can be translated as Flems Little Boat, is quoted

almost exactly at the first tempo change in the piece, occurring after an initial climax at

approximately the largest Golden Section division. This instance of allusion is quite clear

and is closer to a setting or variation than a generative importation, though some

manipulation of the tunes rhythmic profile is involved and I have taken some liberties

with the harmonic treatment.

Ex. 2.31: Bidin Fheilim in Shant.


60

(Ex. 2.31, contd)

.
Ex. 2.32: Bidin Fheilim.

The allusion to Were All Bound to Go is similarly readily apparent, though I

have again subjected the theme to rhythmic profile manipulation and inserted my own

counterpoint, also composing a significant extension that functions as a transition to the

next section. This borrowing is also echoed in the coda, where it is slightly warped and is

presented in an orchestrationally non-traditional context.

Ex. 2.33: Were All Bound to Go, reproduced almost verbatim in Shant, from the pick-up to
measure 150.


61

(Ex. 2.33, contd)

Ex. 2.34: Were All Bound to Go.

Ex. 2.35: Were All Bound to Go, referenced again briefly in Shants coda.


62

In incorporating the more direct references to this folk music, my intent was to

evoke its style and genre. Any interplay of inter-textually generated symbolic narrative

relying on the shanties linguistic content that is perceived by the listener is either purely

coincidental, or subconsciously generated on my part. Additionally, the originally-

composed materials in Shant either mimic or intentionally subvert the musical lexicon of

the source materials to create a sense of tension and release based on degree of fidelity to

the original materials.

Direct, easily-perceivable and referential quotation, as has been seen, can be used

in a variety of ways to convey meaning through reference to previously composed music.

It can be used to allude to specific aural phenomena like cathedral bells, or to refer to

textual meanings contained in previous music, as shown by the Ives examples at the

beginning of the chapter. The compositional technique can also be used as a way to refer

to the temporal states of past and present in a meditative and nostalgic fashion, as

Rochberg does in his Magic Theater. This type of allusion can furthermore be used to

import meanings that have become attached to certain melodies, as in Three Medical

Emergencies, or to character archetypes represented by motives in another composers

music, as in Faust Fantasy. Borrowing several tunes from a certain musical tradition or

genre can also effectively evoke that genre through common characteristic gestures and

patterns, as I did in Shant. And while many composers use this type of readily

perceivable, referential quotation to privately engage with other music or music of the

past, it is unavoidable that such references evoke particular narrative interpretations for

the listener in direct relation to their apprehension of the source material.




CHAPTER 3

MANIPULATED, JUXTAPOSED, AND STRUCTURAL QUOTATION

When quotation is used by composers in a fashion that may not be readily

apparent, as inspiration or as a structural framework, or where the borrowed materials are

so manipulated or densely packed alongside other disparate allusions that the referential

power of the quotation might evade the listener, the impact of the compositional

technique can be quite different than in the previously discussed examples. While the

tradition of structural modeling as a pedagogical tool for training composers has strong

historical precedent, mature twentieth-century composers have employed previously

composed music as a framework with a subtlety and rich interplay of musical meaning

that raises the practice beyond mere imitation.48 Chris Reynolds makes the point that,

while formal modeling can allude, it does so with less specificity of meaning than is

possible with texted motivic allusions.49 However, the choices a composer makes in

regards to which works they choose to emulate in this fashion is often a meaningful

reference that conveys certain particulars about their aesthetics and approach to the newly

composed work. Reynolds says of Brahmss Piano Concerto No. 1, that

Brahmss decision to compose his First Piano Concerto on a Beethovenian model


was a musical reference full of meaning, even if few others would recognize the
source of the musical structure his decision to reach back fifty years for
elements of his musical inspiration communicates a great deal about his aesthetic
ideals and dedication to following Beethoven.50

48
This can also be encountered in the music of certain nineteenth-century composers as well. In
his Motives for Allusion Chris Reynolds cites the example of structural modeling in the case of Brahmss
Piano Sonata, Op. 1, which bears many formal similarities to the Waldstein, but the work in no sense
comes off as imitation or mere exercise. Likewise, the similarities between Brahmss Piano Concerto No. 1
and Beethovens Piano Concerto No. 3 indicate a mature and nuanced structural modeling.
49
Reynolds, 26.
50
Ibid.

63

64

Likewise, music that uses previously composed material in such density and variety that

the allusions become difficult to identify or to ascertain meaning from might have

similarly diminished referential weight in terms of the specific importations. A useful

analogy for this might be the effect of a murmuring crowd as opposed to the impression

of multiple individual voices.

The degree of manipulation which a composer chooses to apply to borrowed

musical materials can also impact the referential effect of a quotation, sometimes leading

the listener to question whether it is actually a quotation at all. Many times these

situations can only be argued as instances of quotation by way of extensive score study

and point-by-point comparison with the purported source material. In this case, the

referential role of the allusion cannot help but be subsumed by the newly composed

work, and its symbolic impact becomes secondary to its inspirational and generative role

in the compositional process. Examples of this type of allusion can also exist side-by-side

with clear, easily perceivable references that can overwhelm any perception of the more

drastically manipulated allusions.

Additionally, sometimes composers choose to employ borrowings in a fashion

that is not intended by them to be interpreted as referential to particular symbolism or

connotative weight engendered by the source music. Such composers as Michael Gordon,

Lansing McLoskey, Robin Holloway, and myself, in certain works, have all at times

approached extant music merely as a source of materials, with any referential meaning

taking on an ancillary role to the borrowed musics status as raw material. In these cases

the original compositions function as reservoirs from which inspiration and musical

materials may be drawn, and any narrative which the listener perceives to be informed by



65

the references is coincidental and secondary to the borrowed materials role in the

composers process. The only thing that separates this compositional technique from the

type of clandestine quotation discussed in the next chapter is the level of perceivability

for the listener, as no semiotic importation need be intended by the composer.

Conversely, the aesthetic of juxtaposition and deliberate interpolative play

between allusions is also addressed and illustrated in this chapter, as this mixture of

disparate sources can blur the lines between the borrowed materials, thus obscuring

evidence for assertions about the impetus for and perceptual results of these instances.

This may undermine any referential impact, as the borrowings may exist in a state of

perceptual flux between the referential and non-referential. Composers may also play

with the listeners perceptions in regards to the provenance of materials, leading them to

question which music is allusion and which is the composers own. Such play was

engaged in as a compositional technique to some degree in the previously-discussed

Shant, where I intentionally composed new music that both interlocked with and imitated

the character of the borrowed materials. This kind of ambiguity is often created through

manipulation techniques and modulations between allusions that fluidly connect them

in the fabric of the music, like those discussed by Catherine Losada.51 While these shades

of perceptibility existed to varying extents in the examples contained in the previous

chapter, less clear-cut cases are discussed here.


51
Losada, A Theoretical Model, 36-7. As aforementioned, Losada discusses composers
using rhythmic plasticity, chromatic (or at least newly composed) insertions, and overlap, as well as degree
of chromatic saturation to connect allusions in collage music, but these modulations could just as easily
interpolate quotations with any other musical passages, or indeed any disparate, extremely contrasting
materials in a work. Rhythmic plasticity refers to a very free and variable manipulation of rhythmic profile,
chromatic insertions consist of newly composed music which is used to connect borrowings in collage
music, and overlap is when elements of borrowings bleed into one another, sometimes with shared pitches
or harmonies, sometimes with conflicting materials.



66

Sinfonia

This type of musical borrowing and allusion in twentieth-century music is clearly

illustrated by Luciano Berios Sinfonia (1969), a monolith of the compositional practice

in action. At times humorous, bordering on neurotic, this work weaves together not only

numerous allusions to the music of the past, but also includes spoken text drawn from a

variety of sources, as well as spoken meta-commentary on the narrative progression of

the work itself. The context in which this essay examines it, however, is not in terms of

its referential, surface level allusions, but in its status as an example of deeper level

structural modeling.

Many scholars have written about this work and Berios use of the Scherzo from

Mahlers Second Symphony (1894) as a scaffold for the third movement, an often cited

instance of structural modeling.52 Catherine Losada notes in her 2004 dissertation on

analyzing collage music that Berio denied that Sinfonia ought to be considered a

collage work on the grounds that the presence of the Mahler created a structural unity

against which everything else was an integrated part and that the different musical

characters are integrated into the flowing harmonic structure of Mahlers scherzo;

actually they are signaling and commenting upon the events and transformations.

Therefore, the references do not constitute a collage, but, rather, illustrate a harmonic

process.53 The fact that the texture of the work is made up of a patchwork of allusions to

disparate sources, however, is clearly demonstrable and conforms to Burkholders



52
Catherine Losada, Michael Hicks, David Metzer, John Flinn, David Cope, Zofia Lissa, Peter
Altmann, David Osmond-Smith, et al.
53
Losada, A Theoretical Model, 57. She is referencing commentary on the work by Berio,
published in Glenn Watkinss Soundings: Music in the Twentieth Century (NY: Schirmer, 1998), 649.
Berio also claims not to have ever really used quotation in his works in a 1980 interview with Rossana
Dalmonte. Luciano Berio, Luciano Berio: Two Interviews, ed. and trans. David Osmond-Smith (New York:
Marion Boyars Publishers, 1985), 110.



67

definition of collage music presented in the previous chapter. That Berio does not agree is

immaterial, and his objections were probably meant to distance himself from the

technique in the visual arts, where collage works by Braque and Picasso often included

elements that were considered refuse, such as bits of newspaper and ripped up cloth.

Rochberg voiced similar concerns about associating these types of compositions with

visual collage, asking Why does a collage or assemblage need to be created from junk?

Why not the opposite?54

Whether or not one chooses to apply the term collage to this work, the structural

modeling in the third movement is a fascinating musical phenomenon. However, it must

be stated that, as Reynolds noted in relation to the instance in Brahms, the direct

referential impact for the listener is somewhat muted. Even if listeners were intimately

familiar with the Mahler and could identify the passages where the Scherzo is clearly

present in the surface level of the texture, it is doubtful that they would be able to balance

the temporal stream of the Scherzo in their heads and compare the structures of the works

in real time. As with the Brahms Piano Concerto, however, the fact that Berio chose this

work as a model does tell us certain things about his aesthetic and his attitude towards the

music to which he was referring.55 The relationship is doubtless more complex in the

Berio, tinged as it is with Postmodern aesthetic principles and incorporating the greater

pluralism of musical styles available to him, but the question nevertheless arises: Why

this movement, this work, this composer?



54
Rochberg, The Aesthetics of Survival: A Composers View of Twentieth-century Music (Ann
Arbor: UMP, 2004), 133.
55
Berio did state in Two Interviews that he initially considered using movements from
Beethovens Op. 131 Quartet as the structural model for the third movement of Sinfonia. One can only
imagine what a different outcome would have arisen if he had chosen that work instead of the Brahms! He
also notes that the choice to use the Brahms was further informed by the Leonard Bernsteins affinity for
that composer, to whom Sinfonia is dedicated.



68

Michael Hicks points out that Mahler himself was a great allusionist, drawing

attention to the fact that the composer would often use folk material, social music, and

other oblique references to create a nostalgic panorama, the center of which is the

composers own intensely personal experience.56 He also hints that the inclusion of the

Beckett text might also be telling, as it alludes to Shakespeare, scripture, and James

Joyce, whose Ulysses in turn alludes to Homer. In the Beckett, the artist becomes a

prisoner of his art, he can do nothing but quote.57 In correspondence, Mahler

summarized the program of the Scherzo of his Second Symphony:

When you awaken from the wistful dream of movement 2, to return into the
turmoil of life again, it may easily happen to you that the ceaseless flow of life
strikes you with horrorlike the swaying of dancers in a brightly lit ballroom into
which you happen to gaze from the outer darkness and from such a distance that
its music remains inaudible life appears senseless to you and like a dreadful
nightmare from which you may start up with a cry of disgust.58

This sort of whirlwind, this ceaseless flow of life, might as easily refer to the

movement from the Berio as to Mahlers Scherzo. The Scherzo is also in fact a partial

reworking of one of Mahlers previous compositions, Des Antonius von Padua

Fischpredigt, (1893) from his Humoresken Wunderhorn songs. A fairly strong

assertion could be made, then, that the choice of the Mahler for a scaffold, which could

be likened to a colossal cantus firmus, makes a meaningful statement about the very idea

of appropriation and allusion, musical and otherwise.

This discussion does not extensively catalogue the borrowings in Sinfonia, as this

task has already been accomplished by other authors, other than to highlight a few points


56
Michael Hicks, Text, Music, and Meaning in the Third Movement of Berios Sinfonia,
Perspectives of New Music 20, no. 1 (Autumn 1981-Summer 1982): 208.
57
Ibid., 209.
58
Ibid., 210.



69

at which the Mahler Scherzo clearly emerges out of the texture, for the sake of

demonstration. The first such instance is at the beginning of the movement, where the

grace-note motives from the clarinets at the outset of the Scherzo are introduced in the

flutes, and then the clarinets and the bassoons play their material from Mahlers measure

10 verbatim in Berios measure 7.

Ex. 3.1: Beginning of third movement of Sinfonia, winds only.

Ex. 3.2: Beginning of Mahlers Scherzo, measures 5-13.



70

Another example occurs directly before and into rehearsal H in the Berio. Note that the

entirety of the music from the Mahler is present, scored for the original instruments.

Ex. 3.3: Passage directly before rehearsal H in the third movement of Sinfonia.



71

Ex. 3.4: Beginning of the first return of the refrain in the Mahler, measure 149.

A further example of Berios use of the Mahler Scherzo in a clear and

unadulterated fashion is at rehearsal BB. The whole orchestra retains its material

verbatim, although there are some minor elaborations added, which can be accounted for

by the expanded orchestration of Sinfonia. Berio reinterprets Mahlers chromatic line up

to the high note in the winds and strings as an undefined glissando, which has the same

general effect.



72

Ex. 3.5: Passage at rehearsal BB in the Berio.



73

Ex. 3.6: Analogous passage in the Mahler, from half way through the fourth refrain, measure 260.



74

(Ex. 3.6, contd)

While not necessarily readily apparent to every listener, the dramatic or narrative

arc of the third movement of Sinfonia closely follows the line of Mahlers Scherzo.



75

Catherine Losada notes that exact temporal parallels occur between the Berio and the

Mahler, in terms of their dramatic highpoints, goal-directed motion, and the overall

narrative shape.59 At times, the climactic or directional material comes from the Mahler.

At others, the climax is obliterated and replaced with an allusion to a similar passage

from another composers music. Figure 3.1 reproduces Losadas comparison of goal

directed motion at an obliterated climax in Sinfonia, where the original passage from

the Mahler is replaced by music from Ravels La valse (1920).60

Fig. 3.1: Losadas reduction of an insertion of climax of La valse into an obliterated climax of the
Mahler.

Source: Catherine Losada, A Theoretical Model for the Analysis of Collage Music Derived from
Selected Works by Berio, Zimmermann, and Rochberg (PhD diss., CUNY, 2004), 172.

Losada also traced the dramatic contour of both works and created a comparison

graph of this aspect of Sinfonias third movement and the Scherzo from Mahlers Second

Symphony, which follows both of the works through their related arcs. Unsurprisingly,

they follow closely similar trajectories, as shown in her graph reproduced in figure 3.2.


59
Losada, A Theoretical Model , 58.
60
Ibid., 172.



76

Fig. 3.2: Losadas comparison graph of the dramatic contours of the third movement of Sinfonia
and the Scherzo from Mahlers Symphony No. 2. The solid line represents goal-directed motion
that conforms to the Mahler, the dotted one refers to divergent goal-directed motion in the Berio.

Source: C. Catherine Losada, A Theoretical Model for the Analysis of Collage Music Derived
from Selected Works by Berio, Zimmermann, and Rochberg (PhD diss., CUNY, 2004), 173.

The nature of this emergence and re-submersion of the material from the Mahler

is similar to the effect of refrain or ritornello, which is interesting, as the original work

itself is cast in a form that also has this feature. The coherence generated by the use of the

Mahler as a scaffold, in contrast with the widely disparate fabric of quotations through

which it flows, lends In ruhig fliessender Bewegung an aesthetic unity that may

otherwise have been lacking in such a diverse texture. If not for this connecting element,

the sheer density of quotations in this movement might contribute to an overwhelming

effect of oversaturation, negating their narrative value and rendering the texture into

static for the listener. Similarly, the effect of replacing music from the Mahler with music

that serves the same function in another work, such as the example of the use of the

climax from Ravels La valse, which Losada also discusses, lends the otherwise chaotic

music an internal logic.



77

In speaking about Sinfonia in his 1980 interview with Rossana Dalmonte, Berio

characterized the presence of the Brahms as a skeleton that often reemerges, fully

fleshed out, then disappears, then comes back again But its never alone: its

accompanied throughout by the history of music that it itself recalls for me, with all its

many levels and references.61 Berio makes another analogy in the liner notes to the

Columbia recording of the work: If I were asked to explain the presence of Mahlers

Scherzo in Sinfonia, the image that would naturally spring to mind would be that of a

river running through a constantly-changing landscape, disappearing from time to time

underground, only to emerge later totally transformed.62

Losada notes that this metaphor of a river might itself be an allusion on Berios

part to the fact that the Wunderhorn song that the Mahler Scherzo is based on has for its

text the story of St. Anthony, lacking a congregation, delivering a sermon to the fishes.63

This relationship was also not lost on David Osmond-Smith, who notes that this reference

semantically induces the quotations of La mer (1905) present in the Berio, as well as the

reference to the drowning scene in Bergs Wozzeck (1922).64 To these observations about

the aquatic nature of the references in Sinfonias central movement, this author would add

that the tempo indication of the movement of the Mahler Scherzo, which Berio

appropriates as his title, is In ruhig fliessender Bewegung, which translates as in a

softly flowing motion.



61
David Cope, Quotation, In New Directions in Music, 7th ed. (Long Grove, IL: Waveland
Press, 2000), 204.
62
Luciano Berio, Liner notes to Sinfonia, New York Philharmonic, conducted by Luciano Berio,
1969. Columbia MS 7268, CD.
63
Losada, A Theoretical Model, 31.
64
David Osmond-Smith, Playing on Words: A Guide to Luciano Berios Sinfonia (London: Royal
Musical Association, 1985), 7, 42.



78

Rewriting Beethovens Seventh Symphony

Michael Gordons Rewriting Beethovens Seventh Symphony (2004) is an example

of the type of work that uses previously composed music as a reservoir of materials. The

over-arching idea of the piece is that most of the materials are drawn from the Beethoven

and the allusions are meant by the Gordon to come across as self-contained, purely

musical elements. The borrowed materials here are not directly juxtaposed against newly

composed music in a drastically different language, nor do they seem to comment on or

be commented on by new materials or each other. In a program note for the piece,

retrieved from the composers website, Gordon writes:

What if someone, while writing a piece of music for orchestra, just happened to
stumble over the same material that Beethoven used? What if someone
unknowingly used this material in the course of writing his or her new work? In
Rewriting Beethovens Seventh Symphony, I retained one essential musical idea
from each movement of the original work.65

This is an example where, while there is a perceptible link to the previous

composition, the role of the borrowed material is more generative than it is symbolically

referential. For instance, while anyone familiar with the Beethoven would probably

recognize the motives in this work, they do not really function in a narrative or referential

fashion. If we take the composer at his word, his use of the borrowed material in this

composition reflects an attitude of attempting to divorce the imports from the original

composition and work with them as purely musical materials. Some writers have referred

to this type of music as found sound, after the found object movement in the visual arts

and which is sometimes also applied to certain types of musique concrte. The distinction


65
Michael Gordon, Program note to Rewriting Beethovens Seventh Symphony, MichaelGordon
Music.com, http://michaelgordonmusic.com/music (accessed October 20, 2014).



79

from collage music is that found sound works are said to be entirely [constructed] from

borrowed pitch material without evoking a crumbling or disintegrating landscape.66

Rewriting is made up of almost entirely imported themes and motives, but it

functions aesthetically in an entirely different fashion from the previously discussed

collage pieces. While Gordon does compose new, rock-influenced or Post-minimalist

based music as buffers between the sections, the borrowed elements are not directly

juxtaposed against imports from other sources, or against new music in a strikingly

different language. This results in the absence of the starkly contrasting juxtapositions

encountered in the Rochberg, or the chaos and chromatic saturation of the Berio. Whether

this is a desirable aesthetic feature, and whether or not the work may lack in rhetorical

depth what the previously-discussed pieces may be said to have, are largely philosophical

and subjective distinctions. What can be readily determined, however, is that Gordons

work benefits from a unity generated by the borrowing of materials from a reservoir that

has a high degree of relative self-similarity. That the borrowed music is not ever

manipulated to the point of being unrecognizable, or recontextualized by different

musical materials, might be said to inhibit the works ability to convey as great a range of

drama through contrast. Again, this is a subjective matter.

Rewriting begins with the violent, percussive chords of the first movement of

Beethovens Seventh. These borrowed materials are immediately developed, as Gordon

interpolates long, slow glissandi between them. It is also worth noting that he prolongs

this simple and, in the original work, relatively short passage of music for such a long


66
Marc Chan uses this term, specifically in relation to the Gordon piece, and also Gomberts Mille
Regretz, Cages Thirteen Harmonies, and Marshalls Kingdom Come. Marc Chan, Rewriting Beethovens
7th, Theater of Found Sounds, entry posted November 3, 2009, http://foundsound.blogspot.com/2009/11/
rewriting-beethovens-7th.html (accessed November 1, 2014).



80

time in this piece. That Gordon chooses this one admittedly striking and dramatic gesture

to build four and a half minutes of music is interesting, and might be indicative of an

attitude on his part towards an emphasis on the drama of this element in the Beethoven.

The chords slowly dissolve into continuous, slow glissandi, and eventually only the brass

and percussion articulate the gestures.

Ex. 3.7: Beginning of Rewriting Beethovens Seventh Symphony, strings only.

The next section, which references the second movement of the Beethoven, takes

the somber, flowing melody and harmonic progression from the funeral march and

deploys it in a sharply articulated dense polyphonic texture. The effect is that of the

gestures and harmonies from the source material weaving in and out of a complex and

thorny texture. Gordons use of imitative polyphony and rhythmic canonical devices

eventually reduce the recognizability of the borrowed materials to almost nothing,

dissipating into a sound-mass texture, which is itself eventually occluded by interleaved

music in a Post-minimalist idiom. However, there is never a point at which the

manipulation is so great that there is any doubt as to the origins of the borrowed

materials.



81

Ex. 3.8: Measures 117-126 of Rewriting, strings only.

Ex. 3.9: End of the second section of Rewriting, with its rhythmic Post-minimalist texture.

Gordons use of the material from the third movement of the Beethoven is

different from previous borrowings in the work, relying on subsidiary gestures that are

not as readily apparent as the previous thematic allusions. The borrowed material, fast

repeated staccato notes in triple time, is after all somewhat prosaic and relatively



82

nondescript. The prolonged orchestrationally additive process focusing on this feature is

accompanied by slowly ascending glissandi in an extensively divided string section,

referring back to this textures prominence in the first section of Rewriting. This string

texture may or may not refer to the Beethoven, but as it merely consists of glissandi

between the pitches of an F major scale, which is the key of Beethovens movement, it is

difficult to make a definitive case for this feature as borrowing.

Ex. 3.10. Beginning of the third section of Rewriting, winds only.

Ex. 3.11. String glissandi between the pitches of the F major scale encountered in this section.

The final section of Gordons work alludes to the first theme of Beethovens

fourth movement, but, much like in the second section, it is treated in free polyphony



83

with densely packed imitative entrances. His technique here stratifies the theme into two

parts. One is constructed out of Beethovens spinning sixteenth notes, shown in Ex. 3.13,

which serve a textural function. The other utilizes the dotted, sixth-leaping repeated-note

figure, also shown in Ex.3.13, which Gordon rhythmically augments, creating moments

of melodic focus through agogic accent.

Ex. 3.12: Beginning of the fourth section of Rewriting, strings only.



84

Ex. 3.13: First theme of the fourth movement of Beethovens Seventh Symphony, with its two
main motivic cells highlighted.

This dissolves into another sound-mass texture, but the theme is reasserted in the

low strings in octaves in its verbatim form from the Beethoven in measure 1257.

Ex. 3.14: Gordons reassertion of the theme, at measure 1257, at the entrance of the thunder sheet.

Gordons usage of the thunder sheet here also mirrors the way the timpani is used

in the Beethoven, which at times uses off-set rhythmic dissonance to emphasize the weak

beat of the 2/4 meter. As Gordon has recast the music in 4/4 here, his use of this

instrument on beats two and four seems appropriate.



85

Ex. 3.15: Example of off-set timpani at the opening of Beethovens fourth movement.

The canonic imitation at this point is unified within instrumental sections as well,

clarifying the texture and making the borrowed theme much more perceptible. Individual

trumpets begin to add more canonic entrances and rhythmic percussion begins to accrue,

as does the brass sections emphasis on the last two sixteenth-note subdivisions of beats

one and three, mirroring the ubiquitous rhythmic pattern from Beethovens movement.

This texture leads into a loud and raucous climax at the end of the piece.

Quartettrope

Lansing McLoskeys Quartettrope (2008) is an interesting example of what could

be called structural quotation, for lack of a better term, or perhaps, as the composer

indicates with the title, ought to be described as another, more archaic and historically

influenced technique of the use of preexisting music. The piece takes Weberns Quartet,

Op. 22 (1930) as a canvas, including both movements of the original work in their



86

entirety, and interpolating new music both in between and interleaved with them. The

composers program note for the work indicates that his newly composed music is

An integral, organic insertionlike the medieval tropes inserted seamlessly into


preexisting chant melodies. There is no clear beginning to the piece, as the first
movement grows out of the ending of the first movement of the Webern, literally
dovetailing from the Webern into the McLoskey. Likewise, there is no real ending
to the second movement; rather, the music transitions subtly and seamlessly into
the second movement of the Webern.67

In this authors 2013 interview with the composer, McLoskey discussed his

compositional techniques in this work. McLoskey commented on the multiple corridors

of musical allusion operating in his piece and how these techniques related to and

interacted with the Webern Quartet. He noted that, as the entire musical fabric of the

Webern is present, he questions whether his technique here ought to even be considered

quotation, per se, as a performance of the whole of the Quartet provides a backdrop for

the new material. McLoskey also discussed his use of Weberns twelve-tone row in his

independent music in the first movement, in which he follows the same pattern of serial

permutations that the earlier composer used.68 Remarkably, during the part of the first

movement where the Webern and the McLoskey are interleaved, the latter composer

chose to consciously subvert the dissonant and atonally angular language of the original

work by integrating consonant sets. While the Webern relies heavily on (014) sets, and

tritone, minor second/ninth, and major seventh relationships inherent to the series used in

the piece, McLoskey stated that

Because the Webern is twelve-tone and so pointillistic, the set that makes the
most sense to use to dramatically alter its character is [025], which is like the
anti-twelve-tone set. Its so consonant. I created all these [025] moments, which
plays with the listeners expectations. Where are these pretty sounds coming

67
Lansing McLoskey, Program Note, in Quartettrope (Miami: OdhecatonZ, 2008).
68
Lansing McLoskey, interview with the author, Miami, October, 2013.



87

from in Webern?, you know? Then my movement takes off, and the quotation
at that point, as opposed to the importation of Weberns work, is my utilization of
his row.69

McLoskey also clarified after the interview that he considers the sets [025] and [027]

linked aurally, which makes perfect sense as both sets have similar intervallic content,

relying as they do on the interval of the major second and either the perfect fourth or

fifth, which are invertibly equivalent.70 He interjects both of these sets into the texture of

the Quartet, mitigating the dissonance of the Webern and playing with the informed

listeners expectations.

Ex. 3.16: McLoskey using [027] and [025] sets to alter the harmonic character of the Webern in
measures 20 and 21. The lighter notes are Weberns, the darker ones McLoskeys.

Although the character of the music varies greatly from the Webern once

McLoskeys material completely takes over, becoming rhythmic and almost jazzy in

nature, the new music makes use of the row and row forms from the first movement of

the Webern, though in a very free and intuitive way, and alongside non-twelve-tone


69
Ibid.
70
Ibid.



88

materials. This relationship provides continuity and contributes to a sense that the

Webern and McLoskey movements somehow belong together. The juxtaposition of the

twelve-tone material and the quintal/quartal harmony generated by the (027) set also

mirrors the character of the McLoskey-infused Webern from the earlier interleaved

music.

Ex. 3.17: McLoskey using the first row form from the Webern melodically in the upper voices, in
the independent portion of the first movement of Quartettrope.

Not only is Weberns row present in the independent section of McLoskeys first

movement, but he also uses the same pattern of permutations that Webern did throughout

his newly composed trope. McLoskey states that

As my first movement emerges out of the Webern, I use the same row as Webern
in the same permutation order. So if he used a pattern of P0, I6, RI2, I used P0, I6,
RI2. You can trace it in my piece; it follows the exact same row order as the
Webern, but without sounding like Webern at all. I used the Webern row linearly,
but then I was harmonizing as I wanted to, providing counter-melodies intuitively,
and quoting small little snippets of the Webern, employing them in the piano
freely and intuitively. Theres this thread of quotation, this use of the row,
completely recontextualized and transformed.71


71
Ibid.



89

McLoskey also discussed his proclivity for revisiting forms and techniques

encountered in early music, another area that interests him as a scholar and performer.

The type of freely intuitive borrowing and textural integration encountered in

Quartettrope is similar in nature to that found in parody masses of the thirteenth through

fifteenth centuries, which McLoskey is also interested in, and to which he likened his

compositional approach in other works, such as Catherines Wheel (2007).72 That he used

the row melodically, but also in a relatively free fashion is at once comparable to and

contrasting with the way it is used in the Webern, where row forms are not deployed

melodically, but are simultaneously juxtaposed with different permutations to highlight

invariance properties.

Conversely, the second movement of Quartettrope contains foreshadowing

quotations, not of the row, but of short motives present in the second movement of the

Webern. In discussing the rhetorical impact of this technique, McLoskey noted that this

anticipatory allusion to materials heard later in the Webern, when taken in the context of

the temporal sequence of the work as a whole, might make it seem to the listener that the

subsequent movement of Weberns Quartet is developing or even alluding back to

McLoskeys newly-composed music that preceded it. This perceptual play is an

interesting reversal of the usual role of borrowed material, making it almost seem as if the

Webern is actually quoting the McLoskey. One such motivic allusion identified by

McLoskey in his music is the grace-note-staccato-followed-by-sustained-note gesture

which begins his movement and is then encountered later in the second movement of the

Webern, after McLoskeys insertions cease.


72
Ibid.



90

Ex. 3.18: Beginning of the second movement of Quartettrope.

Ex. 3.19: Quoted motive as encountered in the second movement of the Webern, measures 86-91.

These allusions, therefore, can hardly be seen to function primarily as referential

or symbolic gestures, but instead serve to integrate McLoskeys trope, which consists

at times of an entirely different musical language, into the fabric of the existing quartet.

As his first movement emerges from the Webern the sets [027] and [025], which he has

been inserting throughout, provide one element of continuity, while the use of the row

also functions as connective tissue to the original piece. McLoskeys second movement



91

has forward looking allusions that function to connect it fluidly to the second movement

of Weberns Quartet, but here the allusions rely on motive rather than the row. McLoskey

stated that referential or symbolic allusion is the type that interests him the least, and that

most often when he uses this compositional technique in a work, his intent is not for it to

be understood in this fashion.73 Thus one can interpret his borrowings in this case to serve

a very practical musical purpose, as a compositional technique employed to connect his

music to the fabric of the Webern Quartet.

Chopn

In the electroacoustic work Chopn (2012), I used freely altered but still directly

referential quotation of Frederic Chopins music in the piano part, against heavily

manipulated and almost unrecognizable distortions of recordings of his music in the fixed

media. I produced the electronic sounds by recording the commissioning pianist, Daniel

Manoiu, performing passages of various Chopin works as they occurred to him randomly,

which arbitrarily generated the reservoir from which I drew my quotations in this work in

an almost aleatoric fashion. I then distorted the recordings into synthetic textures using a

variety of software audio effects and the program SPEAR, which resynthesizes digital

audio by recreating its partials with sine tones of varying amplitude and allows for their

free manipulation. My programmatic reason for doing this was to evoke the ghost of

Chopin, drifting about the concert hall and commenting on the quotations of his music,

which are often presented in such a way that they themselves seem to ethereally fade in

and out of focus.

While the borrowings in the piano part are often fairly recognizable, they are

interspersed and interleaved with newly composed music, which is in keeping with the

73
Ibid.



92

gestural and fragmentary nature of the textures in the piece. Additionally, I developed the

borrowed music through free manipulation of rhythmic profile, registral shifts, harmonic

changes, and other similar alterations. The material in the fixed media further

interconnects the allusions by way of its related nature, both gesturally and harmonically.

My aesthetic goal in doing this was to modify the musical materials to the point

where the listener would perceive fleeting fragments of the allusions, but the music could

in no way be perceived as just Chopins. There were two main reasons for this. Firstly, I

thought that this sort of drifting in and out of the musical world of Chopin was attractive,

could be perceived to mirror the process encountered in the fixed media, and as a purely

practical consideration, could serve to solidify the connection between the live and

electronic sounds. This is something that concerns me greatly whenever I work in the

electroacoustic medium, as I feel that a disconnect between the two is a common

shortcoming of many works in this genre, and something which I attempt to be vigilant

against in my own electroacoustic music.

Secondly, there may have been certain psychological reasons on my part for

occluding my quotations. In this earlier work, as well as in Faust Fantasy, I was still

coming to terms with the artistic and ethical ramifications of using significant amounts of

borrowed materials in a new work. A part of me was still dealing with a nagging sense of

appropriation being akin to theft, or that there was at least the danger of being perceived

as borrowing legitimacy from the earlier music. This may have been a reason that I was

trying to obscure my allusions to a certain degree, or at least make sure that my

compositional fingerprints were just as prominent on the materials as Chopins. This is an

issue which will be discussed again in more detail in chapter 5, but suffice to say here



93

that I have since resolved this philosophical issue to my own satisfaction, at least to the

extent that I continue to freely borrow from other music when it serves my purposes.

An example of my free rhythmic profile manipulation and of a sort of chromatic

disintegration process is encountered in the first borrowing in Chopn, which is an

allusion to the B Minor Prelude No. 6 from his Op. 28 set (pub. 1839).

Ex. 3.20: Allusion to the B Minor Prelude No. 6 in measure 10 of Chopn.

Ex. 3.21: Chopins Prelude No. 6, from Op. 28, for comparison.

While the rhythmic values in the passage are altered, the reference is clear and

demonstrable, but the use of chromatic disintegration at the end of the borrowing, as well

as registral manipulation and rhythmic interruption, serve to distort the material and

differentiate it from the original music. Similarly, when alluding to the famously concise

A Major Prelude from the same set, I obscured the borrowed material slightly, inserting

newly composed music and registrally displacing or elaborating Chopins. The fixed



94

media part here eventually becomes much more active and loud, also functioning to

interfere with the listeners ability to clearly perceive the allusion.

Ex. 3.22: Allusion to the Op. 28 Prelude No. 7 in Chopn.

Ex. 3.23: Beginning of Chopins Prelude No. 7, from Op. 28.

The allusion I make to Prelude No. 4 is more fragmentary and elaborative, with

significant registral manipulation, repetition, and interruptions of the musics rhythmic

flow. Over the course of the work up until this point, I had gradually been increasing the

degree of manipulation that I applied to borrowed materials, so as such this quotations

place in the chronology of the work dictated this greater distortion. While the repeated



95

chords and lyrical melody of the piece are present in the new music, I extrapolate the

figuration in measures 11 and 12 of the prelude into a quasi-cadenza in Chopn.

Ex. 3.24: Reference to Chopins Op. 28 Prelude No. 4 and interleaved quasi-cadenza.

Ex. 3.25: Measures 6-12 of Chopins Prelude No. 4.

The following section of Chopn relies on a rhythmic, heavily distorted fixed

media texture, which is derived from a digitally mangled and gated recording of a

passage from Chopins Etude No. 4, from his Op. 10 set (1830). The sections subtitle,

Frederic and Franz, refers to the dedicatee of this set of etudes, and also expresses my

impression of this piece as particularly Lisztian in nature. The texture is dominated by an

interplay between fragments from both the distorted and original music in antiphony,

culminating in a critical mass of tension, after which the fixed media dissolves into chaos

and the pianist rips through the entire passage as fast as possible.



96

Ex. 3.26: Beginning of Frederic and Franz in Chopn.

Ex. 3.27: Passage from Chopins Etude No. 4, from Op. 10, measures 70-5.

Ex. 3.28: Passage quoted fully, against chaotic, timbrally dissonant fixed media.



97

The arpeggio from the end of the etude is interrupted and the fixed media

provides a sprawling drone derived from the harmonic goal of the con fuoco passage.

Then the final bars of the etude are presented in measures 91-4 in the piano part, but I

transpose the final chord to provide logical harmonic continuity into the next section of

borrowed material.

Ex. 3.29: Interrupted allusion to the end of the Etude No. 4 in Chopn.

Ex. 3.30: Arpeggio gesture at end of Chopins Etude No. 4.

The timbral dissonance of the fixed media in this section is meant to be

programmatic of both Liszts comparatively fiery, mercurial character, and of the friction

between the composers in their later lives. It is interesting to note, in passing, that certain

scholars question whether Chopin s Fourth Etude is itself an allusion to the Rondo of



98

Hummels Second Piano Concerto (1816), to which it does bear a passing musical

resemblance.74

The following section alludes to Chopins Mazurka No. 45 in A Minor, from

Three Mazurkas, Op 67 (1830-48, posth.), and it employs both more timbral consonance

and fidelity to the original material, providing a degree of release after the tension of the

previous section. I employed some rhythmic distortion and also changed the key of the

excerpt, but otherwise the music is fairly unadulterated. However, I also purposely

subverted the dancing character of the music by interrupting its rhythmic flow.

Ex. 3.31: Material from the Mazurka No. 45 in Chopn.


74
Simon Finlow, Twenty-Seven tudes and Their Antecedents, in The Cambridge Companion
to Chopin, ed. Jim Samson (Cambridge: CUP, 1992), 54.



99

Ex. 3.32: Beginning of Chopins Mazurka No. 45 in A Minor.

The final section of Chopn borrows material from the composers Etude in C

Minor, Op. 25, No. 12 almost verbatim, although the fixed media again equals or

dominates the piano part, at times relegating the Etude to background noise. I made use

of two main ideas from the original work: those of the arpeggiated chords; and the

chromatic descending figuration over a tonic pedal. The borrowed music in the piano part

is gradually obliterated by the pulsing roar of the fixed media, and the work ends with a

placid coda of newly composed material.

Ex. 3.33: Reference to arpeggio figures in Chopins Etude, Op. 25, No. 12. in measure 128 of
Chopn.



100

Ex. 3.34: Arpeggio figure in Chopins Etude, Op. 25, No. 12.

Ex. 3.35: Reference to measure 53s chromatic descending to passage in measure 134 of Chopn.

Ex. 3.36: Chromatic descending passage in the Etude, measures 53-5.

Mosaique

Mosaiques (2013) quotational reservoir was influenced by the call for scores for

which the work was composed. This call stipulated that the new composition ought to

have some connection to Berliozs Symphony Fantastique (1830). While I initially toyed

with the idea of freely composing a work that bore some relationship to the program of

the Berlioz, as I spent time reacquainting myself with the piece I realized that I wanted to

use the music in some fashion as well. The first thing that struck me was a short, almost



101

inconsequential passage in the first movement, at measure 297, where a fleeting and

transitional string texture repeats for four bars. I remember thinking that this was such a

strikingly propulsive and unusually repetitive moment in the context of the grammar of

Romantic music, and also that in a Minimalist or Post-minimalist lexicon, one could

compose an entire section based on this little idea.

Ex. 3.37: Reduction of measures 297-300 of Movement I of Symphonie Fantastique.

I ended up using this material in the first fast passage of Mosaique almost

verbatim, slowly building to the full texture from the low strings, adding my own

material, and also working in the anacrusis wind gestures as well. The resulting music

begins at rehearsal B in the piece.



102

Ex. 3.38: Beginning of the first fast section of Mosaique, at measure 35.

I decided that I would go through the score and find passages like this that would

provide material that would be interesting enough that it could bear fashioning into

extended minimalistic textures, but also prosaic enough that it would not sound as though

I were merely cycling through themes from Symphony Fantastique. I also chose material



103

that I could freely manipulate and add to without it being distracting from any new

elements I wanted to employ. For example, after briefly considering the chromatic divisi

string passagework textures in the last movement, I decided against using them, as they

were too recognizable as belonging to the Berlioz. I similarly dismissed the Dies Irae,

guillotine, and ide fixe as being unsuitable for borrowing, as they were also somewhat

obvious. I eventually came up with about twenty short passages to work with, and ten of

those made it into the finished piece.

In addition to the aforementioned passage, I ultimately chose to also employ

measures 59-62 from the first movement as my own introduction, but to strip them down

to their basic harmonies and dilate them into about a minute and a half of slowly evolving

music. After the previously discussed fast passage, I used measures 60-63 from the third

movement of the Berlioz, maintaining the rhythmic drive but elongating the harmonic

progression in extreme augmentation over the course of an entire section. I only took the

material from the winds, transposing the passage up a minor third and distributing it

across the string section. I also used the rhythm from measure 64 in the violins and

employed it throughout the section, particularly in the brass.



104

Ex. 3.39: Measures 76-79 from Mosaique, winds and brass.

Ex. 3.40: Measures 59-64 of Berliozs third movement.



105

Another example of my allusion to the Berlioz is a passage that borrows from

measures 361-4 from the second movement, although I transformed the material greatly. I

slowed the tempo, changed the meter and orchestration, and changed the harmonic focus

to C minor/A-flat major. I then subjected the material to additive rhythmic processes, also

varying the harmony as I repeated it to suit the directionality I wished to achieve.

Ex. 3.41: Passage at F in Mosaique, harp, percussion and strings.



106

Ex. 3.42: Measures 359-65 of Un bal.

While the strings and winds participate in a repetitive and, eventually, additive

linear rhythmic process in this passage, the harp and glockenspiel immediately drift into

their own temporal streams. The brass also eventually enter in two displacement planes,

the first two beats off from the over-meter, the second a beat after that. The result is that



107

in measure 147 a complex cumulative pattern summation point of the processes occurs, at

which juncture the music takes up the next allusion, which is an approximate quadruple

dilation of a transposition of measure 123 from the fourth movement of the Berlioz. I

interpreted the timpani gesture freely and distributed attacks of the tutti chord across

several rhythmic planes, but I kept the strings and other percussion intact, although

transposed. Then the music moves very slowly through the harmonic pattern of the next

few measures in the Berlioz, while engaging in a subtractive linear rhythmic process that

slowly negates the time dilation I had initially imposed on the source material.

Ex. 3.43: Measures 121-7 in the fourth movement of Fantastique, percussion and strings.



108

Ex. 3.44: Rehearsal H in Mosaique, harp through strings. The tied over tremolos are B-flats.

Ex. 3.45: Subtractive rhythmic process shortening the repeated material at the end of the passage.



109

The next allusion to the Berlioz in Mosaique could be thought of as a twin to the

previous one, as it is drawn from just ten measures later in the same movement, at

measure 132. In total I dilated just a few moments of the Berlioz into an entire section of

Mosaique, in hopes of organically linking the two allusions. This next passage is actually

constructed out of two borrowings. I used harmonic material and the bass line from

measure 132, transposed down a minor third, but then interleaved allusions to the cello

and bass gestures at the beginning of the second movement of the Berlioz, first

encountered in measures 3 and 4, but used throughout the movements introduction.

Although this borrowing is of melodic material, I felt it was generic enough as all it

amounts to is a pair of arpeggiated chords, which are also somewhat subsumed by the

texture. The specificity of the allusion to the Berlioz is clear, however, in the

orchestrational technique, and the sequence of a minor triad followed by a diminished

one a minor third away.

Ex. 3.46: Rehearsal I in Mosaique, timpani through strings. The theme from the opening of the
second movement occurs in the third and sixth measures of this excerpt.



110

Ex. 3.47: Measures 129-33 of the fourth movement of Fantastique, timpani through strings.

Ex. 3.48: Measures 7-10 of the second movement of Fantastique, strings, showing the second,
diminished triad arpeggio.

The penultimate section of Mosaique borrows material from the joyous and lively

passage from the final movement at rehearsal D, a roar of joy at her [Harriets] arrival

[at Berliozs funeral].75 I employed a slow process of accrual in using the material from

only measure 31 of the movement, although I initially reorchestrated the parts. For

instance, even though the first part that I deployed comes from the winds in this passage


75
Hector Berlioz, Program Note to Symphony Fantastique, Evergreen State College Music
Document Archive, http://ada.evergreen.edu/~arunc/texts/music/berlioz/berlioz.pdf (accessed October 15,
2014).



111

of the Berlioz, both the winds and violins play it initially. As more orchestrational layers

are added, the material begins to be assigned to the correct instruments, and the section

comes to a crescendo.

Ex. 3.49: Measures 29-34 of the fifth movement of Fantastique.



112

Ex. 3.50: Rehearsal J in Mosaique, at the beginning of the accrual process where certain features
of the texture are absent or rescored.



113

Ex. 3.51: Measures 195-7 of Mosaique, at the culmination of the accrual process.



114

After this climax, there is a brief reference to the material at rehearsal I of Mosaique,

which resolves this time, and a grand pause preceding the coda. The coda is based on

material drawn from the ending of the first movement of Fantastique, the

Religiosamente passage. Using the same basic harmonic pattern, I activated the texture

slightly through the use of repeated notes and added some upper tertian extensions to

some of the chords.

Ex. 3.52: End of the first movement of Fantastique.



115

Ex. 3.53: Coda of Mosaique.



116

(Ex. 3.53, contd)



117

As can be seen from even a cursory investigation of these examples, the

compositional technique of quotation does not always operate on a clearly referential

level, both in terms of the composers intent and in the way in which it is often perceived

by the listener. In the case of Berios structural modeling, an entire movement of

previously composed music acts as a complex scaffold that alludes to the very concept of

allusion itself in nuanced and multifaceted ways, while also deploying surface-level

borrowings in an intricate tapestry of interrelated meanings.

The same is true of McLoskeys borrowing of an entire work in Quartettrope, to

the point of raising the question as to whether such a complete inclusion of previously

composed music even qualifies as quotation, or ought to be considered something else

entirely. This work also utilizes imports in a practical sense from a compositional

standpoint, as they serve to integrate the newly composed music into the fabric of the old.

Additionally, Quartettrope engages in perceptual play in regard to the referential

orientation of the allusions, creating ambiguity in this respect as to which musical

structures are alluding, and which are being alluded to.

The simultaneous application of quotation in the fixed media and live

performance part of an electroacoustic work, as exemplified by Chopn, provides

interesting opportunities for the composer. These include nuanced dialogues and

juxtapositions, programmatic digital manipulation, and interplay between allusions in the

live and electronic facets of the work. New considerations arise when not only borrowing

notes and rhythms from a source, but utilizing actual digital recordings of the original

music in the context of a new work, albeit ones manipulated to a great degree. This



118

results in an opportunity for the composer to engage in a multi-leveled interplay of

allusions which has rich semantic possibilities.

Works that borrow from sources in a way that is primarily concerned with using

the imports as raw materials, with little or no intent towards referential function, such as

Gordons Rewriting and my Mosaique, treat the original works as reservoirs of material,

with the possibility of a resulting unity in the new work generated by the coherent logic

and relative homogeneity of the common source. As has been seen, the genetic imprint of

these materials can find its way to the surface of the new work, coloring and leaving an

indelible residue of their presence.

The compositional methods discussed in this chapter have been nuanced,

borderline examples of musical borrowing, which blur the lines between the techniques

of using direct, evocative quotation in a referential fashion, and that of using borrowing

in ways where the reference may be present, but is really secondary to other purposes for

the practice. The next chapter deals with musical quotation that is not meant to be clearly

perceived as such at all by the listener, and can be characterized as hidden, private, and

clandestine.





CHAPTER 4

CLANDESTINE QUOTATION AND MICRO-QUOTATION

Discussing hidden quotation is a difficult undertaking, as its very nature can

prevent its definite identification. At a certain point, if a borrowing is sufficiently

obscured or is so generic as to lack defining distinguishing characteristics, its function as

a referential signifier can disappear completely. For example, if a composer were to

borrow a simple, generic cadence pattern from a Haydn piano sonata and manipulate it

significantly, could that be said to carry any perceivable symbolic referential weight? A

possible employment of clandestine quotation from such a source is presented in example

4.2, in which the square note-heads represent pitches drawn from the Haydn, in the same

order within voices, although some have been octave-displaced.

Ex. 4.1: Measures 11-12 from Haydns Piano Sonata No. 23 in F Major, Hob.XVI:23.

Ex. 4.2: Possible clandestine quotation of this passage. Black and white square note-heads
represent quoted material.

There is very little potential in this situation for a listener to even realize borrowing is

taking place, as the generic nature of the material and its occluded, rhythmically

119

120

manipulated presentation make its recognition extremely improbable. Even if the listener

is aware of what is taking place and reasonably familiar with the Classical canon, it

seems very unlikely that anyone would be able to determine the source. However, this is

not to say that such borrowings do not have an impact on the resultant music. A pattern

of such compositional practices across the entirety of a work cannot help but have a

profound impact upon the music, especially if the reservoir of materials used shares a

common musical language or a logically coherent self-similarity.

In situations where the borrowed materials are not homogeneous in this way, the

aesthetic can be akin to musical chaos, or that of the diversity of materials blending into

oversaturated static for the listener, as may be the effect for some in works such as

Berios Sinfonia. In cases where a systematic pattern of hidden quotation of coherently

interrelated material is employed, there can also be a genetic imprint on the resulting

music that is derived from the features of the borrowed materials. This means, for

example, that a work that quotes Alban Berg in this fashion will have a quite different

musical outcome than one that quotes Steve Reich. Even if the quotation is not apparent

to the listener, the basic musical features of the imported material will inherently have an

effect on the new composition to a greater or lesser extent, depending on how covertly

they are deployed and the degree to which they are manipulated.

If the instance is a private or personal borrowing on the part of composers who

are either unwilling or unable to inform the listener of their intentions through other

means, and they have obscured the allusion to the point that it is questionable as to

whether or not one is actually present, the issue might be broached of whether or not

attempting to ferret out such allusions violates a composers privacy. For instance, if a



121

musical quotation is meant to have a personal significance between the composer and

another individual, such as a performer, commissioner, or other party, is it ethically

correct to attempt to unravel or decode such a personal communication? The answer to

this question may lie in the fact that if an artwork is performed or published, it ceases to

have this quality of private correspondence and is publicly interpretable. Many scholars,

for instance, have posited explanations for the Sphinxes in Schumanns Carnaval,

which are not borrowings, but are almost certainly cryptic extra-musical allusions. In

editing the work, Clara Schumann minimized their significance by adding the direction

that they ought not to be played. This might indicate that she thought of them as a private

matter, but that has not stopped many authors from their speculations, or pianists from

including the music in performances and recordings.76

On the other hand, some composers enjoy challenging the audience and

performers to guess at their hidden allusions, or simply do not care if these hidden and

private borrowings are discovered. In a 2013 interview with this author, composer

Lansing McLoskey described his attitude towards a performers discovery of an obscured

quotation in his work Star Chamber:

at the climax of the piece, I have a one bar quotation of one of the climactic
moments from the Berg Violin Concerto (1935). I dont mention it, it has nothing
to do with the topic [of my piece] I dont care if anyone recognizes it, and its
folded right into my language, so it doesnt seem completely out of place or
anything. Out of all the violinists that have played the piece, most of them dont
even catch it, but there was one occasion when a violinist said I know that!,
because he had played the concerto. Thats the climax of the Berg Violin
Concerto! And I said, You win!77


76
Rachmaninoff, for example, freely interpreted the sphinxes as murky, low rumbling tremolos in
his 1929 RCA recording. The effect is quite ominous.
77
McLoskey, interview.



122

As can be seen here, although McLoskey considered the allusion a private,

personal matter, his attitude towards the discovery of the hidden quotation in his work

was one of bemusement. This type of situation is probably the more common, as opposed

to that of a composer taking umbrage in the face of the discovery of their hidden

borrowings, and the fact that, in my experience, most composers generally share this

attitude towards aspects of their works that are not readily perceivable might lend a

certain implied permission to analysts in terms of interpreting these hidden features. In

my 2014 interview with Robin Holloway, he expressed a similar attitude towards the

perceptions of his quotations, although his use of the compositional practice is a little

more overt.78

OK-OK

Although there are most likely many examples of the technique of hidden or

clandestine quotation in music across the entirety of history, the only times we can

definitively assert its presence are when there is musicological evidence, either in the

composers words or writings, that the allusion is present, or as in cases like Ivess West

London discussed in chapter 2, in which the composer provides some sort of musical

key to their cypher. Lansing McLoskeys saxophone quartet OK-OK (2004) falls into

both of these categories, as the composer discussed his compositional techniques in this

work with this author in a 2013 interview, and he also includes a brief passage of direct

musical quotation at the end of the quartet, which provides a clue to the source of the

borrowing. McLoskey described the impetus for composing this work:

OK-OK (2006) was a commission for sax quartet, and I can remember my exact
thinking. I was really into Charlie Parker, but was first introduced to his music not
through recordings of Charlie Parker himself, but rather by way of Supersax.

78
Robin Holloway, interview with the author, Miami Beach, October 5, 2014.



123

Supersax was a big band that transcribed Charlie Parker solos, and then assigned
them, sometimes in unison, sometimes in parallel 4ths, or something similar, to
the sax section. Its completely awesome! And I thought that Id take a Charlie
Parker song, but, instead of just supersaxing it, I decided that I would totally
recontextualize, deconstruct, and reconstruct the music.79

This piece is of particular interest to this essay, as it turns out that there are many

fascinating parallels and contrasts between it and the accompanying doctoral

composition, Necessary Steps. Not only do both of these works draw materials from the

solos of jazz improvisations, but there are interesting similarities and differences in terms

of how McLoskey chose to use the borrowed materials in comparison with approaches

used in Steps.

OK-OK uses multiple corridors of clandestine quotation, as well as an example of

direct referential quotation which acts as a key to the origins of the more hidden varieties.

McLoskey says that he used Charlie Parkers solo from Ko-Ko to generate all of the

materials in the work, asserting that none of the music was really newly, freely composed

by him. One striking difference between my approach and McLoskeys is that while I

chose to sometimes alter or expand the rhythms of the borrowed materials in Necessary

Steps, he chose to completely strip all of the rhythmic features from the Parker solo and

use the pitches as if they were a series, albeit in a very free fashion.

The melodic material is at times directly generated by the sequence of pitches in

the Parker solo, and at other times uses multiple sequences of pitches from the solo

against one another, in counterpoint, or in juxtaposition. McLoskey did point out certain

gestures in his piece that he used to subtly suggest the jazzy nature of the material to

which he was alluding, but, for the most part, he tried to avoid composing music that


79
McLoskey, interview.



124

sounded like slowed down jazz.80 He also discussed his compositional technique of

using segments of the series he derived from Parkers solo to create melodic material,

stating that

the heart of the piece is this soprano sax solo [at rehearsal A], and whatever pitch
I was on, 35 or so, I started writing a solo, in large chunks. So this passage might
be comprised of pitches 35-36-37-38, then 39-40-41-42-43, then 44-45-46-47, and
then I would go back and use pitch 48-49-50 in the other parts accompanying the
solo.81

Ex. 4.3: Melodic materials in OK-OK, whose pitches were drawn directly from Parkers solo in
Ko-Ko. Soprano sax solo, measures 35-43.


80
Ibid.
81
Ibid.



125

McLoskey also used the pitch materials from Parkers solo to generate the

harmonic structures in OK. He created a twelve-tone row out of the order that each

chromatic pitch appears in the Parker solo, then constructed chords out of this row for use

in his homophonic and harmonically oriented sections. He noted that he avoided any of

the typical serial permutations of the row, such as transposition, retrograde, or retrograde

inversion, but kept using this twelve note series mostly verbatim throughout the work. He

does, however, make limited use of the inversion of the row at certain points, in a loose

and free fashion.

Ex. 4.4: McLoskeys twelve-tone row, derived from the Parker solo.

Ex. 4.5: Repeated-note passage at rehearsal D that sequentially presents the row in OK. The score
is transposed.



126

(Ex. 4.5, contd)

The homophonic texture at measure 125 also uses the row, as well as its inversion

based on G. McLoskey skips over the tenth note of the row in the last chord here, but

uses it immediately in the next measure along with the twelfth, as the faster, melodically-

oriented music based on the solos series resumes.

Ex. 4.6: Harmonic use of the row at rehearsal G, ordering noted. The second set of ordering
numbers refers to the inversion of the row based on its initial pitch. Again, recall that the score is
transposed.

Ex. 4.7: Inversion of McLoskeys row, based on G.

Additionally, McLoskey used the prime form of this row as the subject for an

aleatoric section, where each performer is given it in total as the basis for their



127

improvisation. Although they are free to perform the pitches in any rhythm or register, it

is significant that the ordered row is given as a starting point. That McLoskey indicates

that the saxophonists are to play this part like improvised jazz solos is also worth

mentioning, as this can be construed as a stylistic allusion to the source material,

comparable to similar indications in Necessary Steps.

Ex. 4.8: Aleatoric passage in OK, measure 123, transposed score.

Finally, at the end of the quartet, the final thirteen bars of Ko-Ko are presented

unadulterated in octaves, providing a clue to the listener as to the provenance of the

borrowed materials in this work. This is a similar practice to the epigraph of the Ives song

discussed in chapter 2, which probably, if Burkholders assertions were sound, ought to

be considered an example of clandestine quotation as well. McLoskeys use of a direct,

unmasked allusion here at the end of the quartet functions to suggest to the listener that a

deeper level, occluded borrowing technique is being employed, perhaps prompting the

listener to explore the work more deeply.



128

Ex. 4.9: Final bars of OK, where the direct quotation from Ko-Ko occurs.



129

Ex. 4.10: Transcription of the last 13 measures of Charlie Parkers solo from Ko-Ko.

Robin Holloway

In his 2007 article, Into the New Century: Recent Holloway and the Poetics of

Quotation, John Fallas discusses several works by this composer. While many of Robin

Holloways later works overtly draw on previously composed music for inspiration and

materials, Fallas points here to the fact that in some of his recent pieces the borrowings

are more hidden and also more numerous than suggested by the composers previous

writings discussing his use of this compositional technique. Fallas states that Holloways

music quotes more, and more covertly, than many of his own published statements

might lead one to believe, and that it is often hard to say where he stops or where

others begin.82 In the light of such assertions, Holloways music deserves discussion in

this chapter in relation to his more hidden, subsumed musical borrowings.

That this composer uses preexisting music as a core generative compositional

technique is no secret, and his recent output is rife with instances of easily perceivable,

referential quotation, as well as nuanced and subtle juxtapositions of borrowings from

multiple sources and manipulations of these allusions by varying degrees. His use of

allusions in his Second Concerto for Orchestra (1978) also demonstrates a



82
John Fallas, Into the New Century: Recent Holloway and the Poetics of Quotation, Tempo 61,
no. 242 (October 2007): 2.



130

compositionally practical application of quotation, using recognizable music to delineate

complex processes that might not otherwise be apparent to the typical listener. In my

2013 interview with Holloway, he discussed his reasons for doing this:

I wanted to get that amount of complexity [that exists in the Carter Concerto for
Orchestra], but I wanted it to be clearly signaled at all points, to a first time, and
any time, audience So what is done to [the material], the metamorphoses to
which it is subjected, these modernistic things, are not done to a bit of abstract
intervallic material, theyre done to O Sole Mio, or Love Me Tender, or
whatever, and everyones going to get that.83

Holloway uses borrowings in the full range of the perceptual gamut. However, his use of

extant music in a manner which may escape the casual listener is of particular interest in

the discussion of works that utilizes clandestine quotation.

John Fallas points to Robin Holloways First Symphony (2000) and the second

movement of his Fourth Concerto for Orchestra (2007) as examples of densely

interwoven textures created from short snippets of various other historical works. In his

2009 article, he notes that not only is the Symphony rife with allusions, but they are so

integrated into Holloways music that the borrowings emerge from and fade back into

extended passages in which one is hardly aware there are quotations at all, so that it

comes as a shock to look closely [at the music] and see just how densely populated it is

with these other voices, no longer heard as others.84 He particularly notes this density

of borrowings at rehearsal 12 of the Symphony, which he asserts includes allusions to

two works each of Strauss and Debussy, as well as prominent works of Sibelius, Elgar,

Mahler, Scriabin, Schoenberg, and Stravinsky.85


83
Holloway, interview.
84
Fallas, 3-4.
85
Ibid.



131

Fig. 4.1: John Fallass reduction of Holloways First Symphony, from rehearsal 12, highlighting
interleaved quotations used by the composer.

Source: John Fallas, Into the New Century: Recent Holloway and the Poetics of Quotation,
Tempo 61, no. 242 (October, 2007): 4.



132

Ex. 4.11: Opening of Mahlers Ninth Symphony, measures 3-6.

Ex. 4.12: Salomes leitmotif from the Strauss, first encountered in the opening bars of the opera in
the clarinet.

Ex. 4.13: Beginning of Nimrod, from Elgars Enigma Variations, violins.

Ex. 4.14: Opening of Sibeliuss Fourth Symphony, bassoons and cellos.



133

What Fallas hears as a reference to Debussys Jeux (1913) at 11 measures after

rehearsal 12 must be very oblique indeed, if this is in fact intended by Holloway, as these

pitches and rhythms do not occur together at all in the Debussy. The generic interval

pattern of the chromatic scale is common enough in the work, but this precise rhythm is

absent. However, there are several possible passages that this motive in the Holloway

might be obscurely alluding to, such as the piccolo four measures after rehearsal 33, four

measures after rehearsal 34, or the bassoon one measure after rehearsal 40. This latter has

much to recommend it comparatively, as the passage in the Holloway is also scored for

bassoon.

Ex. 4.15: Possible sources from Debussys Jeux, for Fallass 11 measures after rehearsal 12.

or,

or, more likely,

Holloways use of these particular late Romantic and early Modern period works

evokes, to this author, the idea of early twentieth-century European decadence and

romanticism colliding with the violence of primitivism representing the oncoming war.

This interpretation is informed by the composers own words about the work in his

program note relating to his attempt at a musical summation of the twentieth century, in

which he states that materials of its own making [are] gradually welded into a lingua

franca, to end after two black World Wars separated by a scarlet scherzo, then an ice-blue



134

Cold War.86 In our 2014 interview he also discussed a similar sort of musical

symbolisms presence in the juxtapositions of Rosenkavalier, La valse, and the Rite in

Berios Sinfonia. It makes sense, therefore, that if the composer perceives such symbols

as interacting in this way in the music of another, he might be employing them with

similar intentions here.

Nancarrow Meditations

Nancarrow Meditations (2013) is a solo piano work that imports material from

that composers Rhythm Study #1 (pub. 1952) and Study #36 for Player Piano (Canon

17/18/19/20) (ca. 1965-77).87 This work was one of the first in which I used what I have

come to call the technique of micro-quotation, where the materials borrowed were so

monadic, generic, and nondescript that it is difficult for the listener to apprehend that

quotation is happening at all. Nevertheless, the use of the Nancarrow works as reservoirs

of material generated musical ideas that may have not have naturally occurred to me in

the process of composing a new piece in my normal idiom, and brought certain atomic

features into the composition that I may not have otherwise employed. The result was a

certain tint or sheen to the musical surface of Meditations that was at once attractive to

me aesthetically and, after the fact, fascinating in its alien nature. Here was a work that I

had undoubtedly composed myself in my customary style, with all its attendant

techniques, selection, and continuation preferences, and yet there was something foreign

and other about it, whose effect on my musical language in the piece seemed almost

86
Robin Holloway, Program Note to Symphony, Op. 88, RobinHolloway.info, http://www.
robinholloway.info/compositions/088symphony.html (accessed December 14, 2014)
87
Nancarrow did not assiduously date nor document the completion of many of his works, so,
aside from such pieces as the Rhythm Study #1, which was published in Henry Cowells New Music
Quarterly in 1952, the best we have are approximations or date ranges for many of his works. The ones
given here are from Kyle Ganns Conlon Nancarrow: Annotated Works List, KyleGann.com,
http://www.kylegann.com/cnworks.html (accessed November 14, 2014).



135

alchemical. That the borrowings were totally clandestine in nature was clearly proven to

me when, after the premier and another demonstrative performance at a social meeting

with several composers, colleagues incredulously inquired how much of the page was

Nancarrow, and how much my own music. I replied that it was all Nancarrow, which,

again, was met with skepticism.

My compositional process in this work was very free and meditative in nature, as

the title suggests. I decided to draw from Nancarrows rhythm studies, and intentionally

chose both an early and a late work to provide as wide a representation of the composers

developmental arc as possible. I simply began at the beginning, so to speak, looking

initially at the first page of the Rhythm Study #1, which Kyle Gann calls an arch-form

study over ostinatos at a tempo ratio of 4:788 The D-flat quintal trichord and E major

chord a minor third away from its root that opens this work is used to open my own, and

I even decided to use a similar rhythmic dissonance grouping process to Nancarrows in

his initial passage, although I chose different proportions for mine and discarded the

septuplet-against-eight rhythmic feature, which resulted in a musical outcome with

relatively much simpler ratio relationships.

Ex. 4.16: Opening of Nancarrow Meditations.


88
Ibid. What Gann means is that it is a 4/4-against-7/8 pattern within the same temporal unit,
which might be more accurately described as in a ratio of 7:8, or seven eighths against four quarters.



136

Ex. 4.17 Opening of Nancarrows Rhythm Study #1.

While this is a direct and relatively unmanipulated allusion to the original music,

the materials are quite generic. That I chose to allow the chords to sustain, as opposed to

their secco presentation in the original composition, also serves to obscure the source.

The deviation from the canonic proportions of the Nancarrow also help to achieve this, as

these processes are a prominent feature of this his music. After this process runs its

course fifteen measures later, there is a short transitional passage that draws loosely from

Study #1, in that the melodic fragments used to approach the chords bear certain

similarities to melodic materials in the 4/16 pattern in measures 5 and 6 of that piece.

Ex. 4.18: Measures 17-21 of Meditations.

Ex. 4.19: Similar materials in Study #1, measures 5-6. Note the C-sharp, D, E, and E, C, E-flat
89
patterns in the upper 4/16 measures.


89
This work has multiple simultaneous metric patterns, which are independently mensurated and
are unnumbered. For convenience, measure numbers refer to the 4/4-against-7/8 pattern, and have been
added to the manuscript by this author.



137

The next part of Meditations consists of a perpetual motion texture, drawing its

basic materials from the 5/16 grouping in measure 7 of Study #1. The first beamed unit,

from measure 26-8, draws from the first of these measures, with the left hand transposed

up an octave. The second unit draws from the second 5/16 grouping in measure 7, with

the upper and lower voices switched. The third unit is connected through the E,

parenthesized in Ex. 4.20, m. 30, which elides the previous pattern into the new one. This

new pattern contains all of the pitches, in order, from the third 5/16 grouping in measure

7 of the Nancarrow, but changes their registers. The beamed unit that begins in measure

32 is a reordered return to the material of the second unit in measure 28, with registral

changes, and this unit elides into the next through the G parenthesized in 4.20, into the

beamed unit in measure 34, which is a more literal return to this same material. This

elides through the parenthesized E just prior to measure 35 back into a literal return to the

material from the third beamed unit encountered in measure 30, which this time does not

elide into the next beamed unit. This unit consists of a registral inversion of the second

beamed unit from measure 28.

Ex. 4.20: Measures 26-37 of Meditations.



138

(Ex. 4.20, contd)

Ex. 4.21: Measures 7-8 of Study #1.

Thus, through the techniques of cellular repetition and registral manipulation, I

expanded these three short measures from Nancarrows Study #1 into an extended section

of music in Meditations, using the materials in such a way that the nature of the allusion

was not readily apparent. The selection of these particular materials resulted in a

hybridization of Nancarrows and my own aesthetic selection preferences, as my choices

to work with these specific materials exists as a subset of his choices, and the borrowing

in my work was further subsumed by my decisions in the deployment of the materials in

rhythmic processes and the use of pitch set elision.

The beamed unit beginning in measure 36 is fragmented into a short rhythmic

dissonance process, whose completion resolves down by half-step into the next



139

borrowing, which takes the six note pattern found in two 9/32 groupings in measure 9 of

the Nancarrow. This is repeated several times under repeating scalar passages

extrapolated from the previous material, then treated to 2:3 augmentation as the scalar

four-pattern is gradually interrupted by five patterns, causing offset displacement

rhythmic dissonance.90

Ex. 4.22: Measures 41-6 from Meditations.

Ex. 4.23: Measure 9 from Study #1.

In measure 48 the five-sixteenth-note pattern takes over completely in descending

scalar runs again, while the pattern in the left hand changes mode, returns to its original

tempo, and is shortened from six to five eighth notes.


90
The terms displacement and grouping dissonance that I use to discuss particular types of
rhythmic irregularity come from the writings of Harald Krebs, et al, particularly his excellent Fantasy
Pieces: Metrical Dissonance in the Music of Robert Schumann (New York: OUP, 1999).



140

Ex. 4.24: Measures 47-8 of Meditations.

This is followed by free development of the material and similar rhythmic

dissonance processes. Another clandestine allusion to the Nancarrow is located at

measure 70 in Meditations. I took a seven note pattern from measure 9 of Study # 1, and

a six note pattern from measure 17-18, and juxtaposed them simultaneously, in a

grouping dissonance of 6:7. Rather than allow the process to run to completion, I

interrupted the fourth iteration of the 7-cycle after the third note, realigning the pattern at

the beginning of the fifth 6-cycle. I allowed the pattern to run one cycle longer this time,

then, in the fifth iteration of the 7-cycle after the second note where the 6-cycle lines up

with it, I introduced a sixteenth note displacement dissonance, shifting the 6-cycle

forward, and the result is a running sixteenth-note passage. I allowed the 7-cycle to come

into line with the prevailing meter at measure 80, then began gradually changing notes to

harmonically develop the material.

Ex. 4.25: Juxtaposed allusions to measures 9 and 17-18 of Rhythm Study #1 and rhythmic
dissonance processes from measure 70-81.



141

(Ex. 4.25, contd)

Ex. 4.26: Measures 9 and 17-18 from Rhythm Study #1.

After a transposed return to the material of Meditations introduction, I used a

new allusion at measure 105, which refers to the third system of Study #36. I initially

deploy it in a 10-cycle against the 8-cycle of the 4/4 meters eighth note, but shifted it

into a 15-cycle as I juxtaposed it against a major third transposition of itself in a 16-cycle

consistent with the main meter, creating a 15:16 grouping dissonance. Study #36 is not

metered, but the borrowed material can be found in the fourth system of the first page.

Ex. 4.27: Measures 100-109 from Meditations.



142

Ex. 4.28: Study #36, first page, third system.

I then fragmented these cells between both hands in off-set sixteenth notes,

beginning a linear additive process with the first four notes of their combined interleaved

pitch order, starting in measure 117, that comes to completion in measure 123, at which

point I started gradually changing notes in the pattern, creating a sequence of harmonies

through half-step voice leading and common tones.

Ex. 4.29: Measures 117-21 from Meditations.

After I felt I had developed the material sufficiently, I subjected it to a linear

subtractive process that leads into a scalar passage using the notes of the new harmonies,

with 4+5- and 4+4-cycles, creating a 9:8 grouping dissonance pattern between the hands.

Ex. 4.30: 8:9 rhythmic dissonance in measures 132-4 of Meditations.



143

This is followed by a re-use of the sixteenth-note texture, whose pitches I

systematically and gradually altered, culminating in a linear additive statement of

extended tertian arpeggios, drawn from the third page of Study #36, in the third system.

Ex. 4.31: Linear additive statement of extended thirds arpeggio in measures 148-51.

Ex. 4.32: Source of this material in Study #36, third page, third system.

Fig. 4.2: Harmonies expressed in measures 138-49 of Meditations. Note common-tone and
half-step voice-leading between pitch collections



144

The next passage, whose beginning can be seen at the end of example 4.31, in

measure 154, is another borrowing from the Nancarrow. This material comes from Study

#36, from page five, first system. I took the motives from the top two staves, transposed

them, and appended them in running sixteenth notes. I then shuffled the notes, integrating

the two motives into one gesture, then separated them back out into two. At this point I

transformed the gesture, reflecting the arpeggio through its last note and transposing the

chromatic descent down into the left hand. I then shuffled those gestures, and once they

were integrated into running sixteenth notes, I began varying the harmony by gradually

changing notes as the pattern repeats, using half-step and common tone voice-leading.

Ex. 4.33: Measures 155-60 of Meditations, in which I shuffled and reflected the two motives from
the Nancarrow.

Ex. 4.34: Study #36, fifth page, first system.



145

Fig. 4.3: Harmonic structures in measures 161-70 of Meditations. Note voice-leading between
pitch collections

This is followed by a linear subtractive process, which eventually removes

material from both ends of the pattern, down to three repeating sixteenth notes. These

continue in the left hand through the end, where a motive based on the extended tertian

arpeggio from the previous allusion undergoes rhythmic expansion and contraction over

the top of it, culminating in a run up to the top note, concluding the piece.

Ex. 4.35: Final bars of Nancarrow Meditations.

Apollonian Echo

Apollonian Echo (2014) is scored for flute, oboe, horn, and string quintet. In

deciding what materials to use as the basis for my clandestine quotations in this work, I

was influenced, not by the particular instrumentation, which might have suggested the

Balakirev, minus the piano, but by the number of musicians involved in the ensemble. I



146

considered borrowing from several mixed octets in the Classical, Romantic, and Modern

repertoires, such as the Spohr, Schubert, or Hindemith Octets, Varses Octandre,

Xenakiss Anaktoria, or even from a combination of these sources, but eventually

decided to use Stravinskys Octet for winds and brass (1923, rev. 1952). The reason for

this decision was two-fold: first, I decided to only use one source because of the built-in

unity of materials that I had discovered such borrowing could provide; and second, I was

composing this work during the season of the Rite of Springs centenary, so the

composers music was very much in the air. The title is a reference to Louis Andreissen

and Elmer Schonbergers book The Apollonian Clockwork, which discusses Stravinskys

Neo-Classical period, of which the Octet is an early example.

I started composition of this work with two main ideas in mind. I wanted to use

motives, small cells, and harmonic ideas from the Stravinsky at varying levels of

perceptibility throughout the piece, beginning generally from the end of the Octet and

working towards the beginning. I also decided to allude stylistically to the piece, not by

imitating Stravinskys Neo-Classical style, but by trying to think about what in my own

musical language could be considered Apollonian, and focusing on these aspects in this

work. As I stated in my program note for Echo, I wanted to attempt, as it were, to create

an Apollonian clockwork of my own, in my musical language.

That being said, I did directly borrow motives from Stravinskys Octet in this

piece, extracting the materials in reverse order from the order that they appear in that

work. The initial melodic motive in Echo is an elaboration of the motivic cell in the

clarinet in measure 92 of the finale of the Octet, shown in examples 4.37.



147

Ex. 4.36: Initial passage from Apollonian Echo, which uses a distortion and extension of a cell
from rehearsal 66 of Stravinskys Octet.

Ex. 4.37: Rehearsal 66 of the Octets finale, from which the opening gestures of Echo are derived.

The opening sections slow, descending scalar scaffolding is drawn from the final

movement of Octet as well, being loosely based on a rhythmically dilated retrograde of

the ascending scale in the final bars of this movement.

Ex. 4.38: Measures 9-16 of Echo, which draws both its scalar scaffolding and separated tenuto
notes from a reverse ordering of material from the final passage of the Octet.



148

This is also the source of the separated tenuto notes in the oboe and horn in

measures 9-16. The melodic gesture that begins at rehearsal A of Echo is a further

allusion to the final passage in the Octet, and its counterpart is located in the trombones,

in measures 177-85.

Ex. 4.39: Motive at rehearsal A in Echo, which references the trombones from 177-85 of the final
movement of the Stravinsky.

Ex. 4.40: Final passage from Stravinskys Octet, measure 165-end.



149

(Ex. 4.40, contd)

The accompaniment pattern at rehearsal A in the cello and bass is also borrowed

from the Stravinsky. I took the bassoon accompaniment from the attacca transition

between the middle and final movements and freely used various isolated cells from it in

repetition, in a technique consistent with micro-quotation.

Ex. 4.41: Transition between the middle and final movements of Stravinskys Octet, which I used
to generate accompaniment patterns in the section beginning at rehearsal A.

The passage in Echo beginning at measure 30 borrows from measures 160-7 of

the last movement of the Octet, which I re-orchestrated and elaborated. This material

then evolves into the next borrowed motive, which, although short and slightly altered, is

fairly easily perceivable. It is drawn from the bassoon solo in the beginning of the last

movement of Octet, from the anacrusis to measure 4 through measure 6. The idea is

initially presented in two displacement dissonance layers, each a quarter note off-set from

the other, in the flute and oboe in measures 38-39. After some fragmentation of the

motive in measures 41-2, I aligned the two layers, but kept them off-set from the



150

prevailing meter by an eighth note, then presented them in rhythmic consonance in

measures 45-6.

Ex. 4.42: Use of a motive from the beginning of the third movement of the Octet, in Echo.

Ex. 4:43: This motives location in Stravinskys Octet, in the first 6 measures of the last
movement.

After a brief return to the previous material, I then used another borrowing from

the Stravinsky. However, this is not immediately apparent, as it is arrived at through a

linear additive process, presented in the violin, which begins in measure 54. The pattern

begins with the first three eighth notes worth of the allusion, adding an eighth on each

repetition. Then, after it has reached a length of eight eighth notes in measure 58, the

process is reversed, subtracting an eighth note from the front end of the pattern this time

in a subtractive linear process. Once it returns to three eight notes in length, it repeats

twice, then winds down to nothing, ending on the down beat of measure 62. The flute

fragments roughly follow the line of the violin here.



151

Ex. 4.44: Linear rhythmic processes from measure 54-62 in Echo.

This four beat motive used in this additive process is drawn directly from the flute

part in measure 154-5 of the final movement of Stravinskys Octet, transposed a major

third, but otherwise unadulterated. However, due to the allusions gradual presentation

and subsequent fragmentation, its nature is highly occluded.

Ex. 4.45: Measures 153-5 of the last movement of the Octet, from which the culmination of the
linear rhythmic process in measures 54-62 was drawn.

The next short section of Echo is mostly freely composed, comprised of multiple

simultaneous rhythmic layers which undergo independent additive and subtractive

processes, but the high flute descant is a borrowing from Stravinsky, drawn from the



152

trumpet part in the same measures as the previous borrowing. The first iteration is

transposed and the second is at pitch, but in a higher octave and flutter-tongued.

Ex. 4.46: Flute part from measures 62-8 of Echo.

Ex. 4.47: Measures 154-6, of the Octet, brass.

The fragmentary and antiphonal scalar materials that propel the music into the

slow central section of Echo are also reflections of a passage from Stravinskys Octet,

although their generic nature diminishes their perceivable referential weight. In keeping

with my idea of moving backwards through the Octet, this passage is actually a literal

retrograde of both the pitches and rhythms of the flute line in measures 153-9, with a

slight distortion of the clarinet line from measure 18 woven into its conclusion.

Ex. 4.48: Measures 69-74 of Echo.

Ex. 4.49: Measures 153-9 of the Octet, flute, whose retrograde I used, and measures 17-19,
clarinet.



153

The slow central section of Apollonian Echo treats borrowed materials from the

Octet with a much greater degree of rhythmic profile manipulation. I also moved on to

the second movement of the Octet in search of materials, reflecting my plan to travel

generally backwards through it. This section of Echo uses pitches from the theme and

variations movement in a very loose way, as much of the sections material that is not

directly quoting motives from the Octet resulted from my visually scanning through the

movement and selecting pitches based on whichever one my eye fell upon next on the

page. The first concrete allusion to the Stravinsky is a reference to the first melodic

portion of his theme in this variation movement, which is presented in Echo in a

rhythmically manipulated fashion at rehearsal E in the flute and horn, then more literally

by the oboe and viola in measures 79 and 80.

Ex. 4.50: Rehearsal E in Echo, winds and horn.

Ex. 4.51: Measures 79-84 of Echo, with Stravinskys theme alluded to in the viola and oboe.



154

Ex. 4.52: Beginning of Stravinskys theme in the second movement of the Octet.

I then used the second melodic portion of Stravinskys theme as the subject of a

loose block additive process in measures 86 through 97 of Echo. By loose I mean that I

gradually added the pitches of the motive, but treated the rhythm freely, shifting the

resulting line around to suit my compositional preferences. It begins with just the third

and the ninth, which is also expressed as a minor second in certain voices, then pitches

accumulate on the front end of the gesture, culminating in the entire sequence of five

pitches in measure 97, at which point Echo ceases referencing borrowed material in favor

of newly-composed homophony leading into the cadential material of measure 102,

which is itself a borrowing.

Ex. 4.53: Measures 85-97 of Echo, with its additive process based on Stravinskys theme, flute
through violin I.



155

(Ex. 4.53, contd)

Ex. 4.54: Second part of Stravinskys theme, measures 5-8.

Measure 102 of Echo jumps ahead somewhat in terms of my reverse score-order

quotation plan, but this portends the advent of the first movements materials, on which

the next section of Echo focuses. This allusion borrows from one of the few clear tonal

cadences in Stravinskys Octet, which occurs in measure 39-41, a chromatically

approached half cadence that would not seem out of place in the late Romantic idiom.



156

Ex. 4.55: Measures 101-3 of Echo, presented with measures 39-41 of the first movement of
Stravinskys Octet, for comparison.

While this is a prosaic gesture when contextualized within my harmonic lexicon, it is

such a striking moment in the Stravinsky that it figuratively cried out to be highlighted in

terms of the materials I chose to borrow from his work, and is thus relatively

unadulterated in its presentation.

The next section of Echo is a slightly dilated reference to a later passage in the

first movement of the Octet, taking the four note pattern in measures 167-9 and

presenting it in rhythmic alteration, then pivoting on the final note and presenting it in

retrograde.



157

Ex. 4.56: Measures 104-6 of Echo, and 167-9 of the Octet.

The final fast section of Echo contains many fragmentary references to motives in

the first movement of the Octet, as well as a couple of allusions to material from the last

as it references its own earlier sections, but the focus is on the former. The passage starts

with a slightly altered borrowing from the last movement, specifically the second

trumpets gesture in measure 83, with its initial pitch lowered by a half-step and the

whole motive transposed a minor third. This is immediately followed by the use of the

motive in the flutes and other voices in measures 44-6 of the first movement, a similar

gesture to the previous allusion. I then draw another motive from measures 47-8, where

this four-note figure is extended into an asymmetrical 5/8 measure and is followed by

two staccato notes an octave apart. As this idea is extended and repeated in fragmentation



158

by the first violin, the viola plays a pizzicato passage very loosely based on the contour

of the first trombones part from measures 48-53 of the Octet.

Ex. 4.57: Measures 107-12 of Echo.

Measure 113 of Echo references the flute part in measures 42-3 of the Octet,

whose material I already borrowed in measures 104-6. I then took the first trumpets

motives from measures 44-5 of the Stravinsky, in 1:2 rhythmic diminution, using them in

the first violin part. After this I employed measures 50-51 of the flute part from the Octet

in the flute part of Echo, in measure 114, with its first two notes reversed, and append

measure 33s flute material onto the end of it. This is accompanied in the violin by an

allusion to the Octets measure 44 first bassoon part, followed immediately by a reference

to the clarinet part from measure 45-6 of the third movement. Returning to the first

movement for materials, I then based my accompaniment pattern on a combination of the

previously used material from measure 83, altered fragmentations of the bassoon parts

from measure 69-70, and octatonic scalar material that references the theme from the

second movement of the Octet.



159

Ex. 4.58: Measures 113-17 of Echo.

Starting in measure 118 of Echo, there is a linear additive process in the first

violin based on the first bassoon part in measure 36 of the first movement of the Octet,

adding a sixteenth note on each repetition. Here I rounded up to the nearest eighth-note

rhythmic value by adding rests or rhythmic value to the back end of the pattern to prevent

any iteration beginning on a weak sixteenth note, simplifying the resultant rhythms. At

the culmination of the process, the flute takes up this motive and the second bassoon part

from measure 36 of the Octet is presented simultaneously in the second violin. The

accompaniment patterns that underlie this process are built on previously encountered

cells, more octatonic scales, and a very loose reference to the first trumpet part in

measures 140-2 of the Octet.



160

Ex. 4.59: Measures 118-21 of Echo.

The gesture in the violins that begins in measure 121 of Echo and continues into

measure 122, where they are joined by the winds, is drawn from the flute and clarinet

motives in measure 35 of Octet. I then used measures 33-2 of the same voices, but in

retrograde, maintaining and extending the juxtaposed 3-cycle rhythmic grouping

dissonance that Stravinsky used in measure 32, also in retrograde form. The material

from measure 32 remains the motivic focus for the rest of this section.

Ex. 4.60: Measures 122-24 of Echo.

This material becomes the dominant motive in the texture through the end of the

section, although the horn, cello, and viola begin to sporadically play fragments of



161

measures 69-70 and 36, which have previously been employed in this section. The

material of Stravinskys 3-cycle grouping dissonance begins to be employed at various

rhythmic displacement dissonance planes here as well, heightening the drama and tension

and propelling the music into a climax.

Ex. 4.61: Measures 125-32 of Echo.

The rest of the piece consists mainly of newly composed coda material with some

subtle melodic and harmonic reflections of previously discussed borrowings. I think that

this piece is extremely successful on its own terms as an independent work, whether the

listener is aware of the presence of the Stravinsky or not, and is imbued both with a

strong inherent unity brought about by the self-similarity of the borrowed materials and

an interesting aesthetic divergence from my customary compositional idiom. This is

acheived not only by the inherent characteristics of the borrowed materials, but also by

the ways that their characteristics influenced the newly composed music with which they

were juxtaposed. For instance, the octatonic bass line in measures 117-21 is not a musical



162

feature that I would ordinarily choose to use in the composition of a work in my present

harmonic/melodic language. But, due to both the harmonic nature of the materials this

passage is accompanying and the octatonic basis of the theme of the second movement of

Stravinskys Octet, it was a compositional choice that made sense in the context of Echo.

As was discussed in the introduction to this chapter, the practices of clandestine

and micro-quotation are difficult to discuss in terms of citing concrete examples and their

impacts in specific works, as they are often difficult to definitively identify. Even in the

context of discussing my own works, given that a span of time has passed between

composition and analysis, the veil of memory creates an ambiguity in identifying this or

that motive or cells provenance. As the way in which I sometimes use this technique is

intuitive and meditative, and given that I often do not keep a record of every

compositional decision that I make, analyzing works in which I used this technique can

sometimes amount to motive hunting through what I know to be the quotations

source. This is especially true in works like Apollonian Echo, Nancarrow Meditations,

and Necessary Steps, where I allowed myself the compositional freedom to not only

liberally borrow from a reservoir of materials, but to also then freely manipulate those

materials in such a manner that their origins are all but totally occluded. One particular

issue in regards to Echo was that, just as Stravinsky logically developed his motives, I

too developed the ideas that I had borrowed from him in my piece, creating great

ambiguity in some situations as to whether certain musical cells were my developments

of these materials, or allusions to or distortions of Stravinskys developments.

This situation leads to an interesting philosophical question regarding these

practices: At what point does this compositional technique cease to really be quotation?



163

If the borrowing is so manipulated, so hidden, or simply too generic to be perceived as

relating to the source in any meaningful way for the listener, where is the line between

the borrowings and the composers craft in the resulting work? Does this type of

borrowing carry any rhetorical weight or narrative significance in the new music? These

questions, as well as many other issues raised by the varying practices of musical

quotation, will be addressed in the next chapter.





CHAPTER 5

POTENTIAL USES OF QUOTATION AS A COMPOSITIONAL TOOL

AND ITS RHETORICAL RAMIFICATIONS

In speculating on the meaning of the quotation as a compositional technique, two

perspectives must be examined. Firstly, the source of the quotation and the connotations

of the work and tradition from which it is drawn; and, secondly, the manner of its usage,

degree of manipulation, and place in the musical hierarchy of the new work. Only with a

thorough understanding of these parameters can the listener or analyst attempt to form an

idea of the composers purpose in borrowing elements from other works, and what

meaning or ideas can be conveyed to the listener through these appropriations. As

Christopher Ballantine muses in his article on quotation in the music of Ives,

Sometimes the new piece will appropriate features of styles to which it is


related only distantly or not at all. It is these stylistic leaps, the unheralded
appearance of atavistic or exogenous traits as part of a new art work, that
dramatically attract attention to themselves and raise questions that call for
a systematic answer. The simplest and most basic of these questions is:
What does the incorporation of these foreign elements mean?91

What Ballantine refers to here is that the advent of borrowed material within a

new work can be a striking rhetorical statement on the part of the composer. Such an

event calls out to the listener, immediately demanding an explanation or interpretation on

their part. In Ivess case, Ballantine describes his quotations as existing anywhere on a

continuum from totally stripped of meaning and used purely as musical resources, to

explicitly and directly referential, being utilized for their semantic connotations. While

this begs the question as to whether it is even possible to strip meaning from preexisting


91
Ballantine, 167.

164

165

music if its presence is perceivable, there are certainly varying possible degrees of

referential impact that depend on the way in which the borrowed music is employed. This

perceptual continuum seems evident and has been clearly demonstrated by the array of

examples in the preceding chapters. Furthermore, Ballantine asserts that, when

referential, Ivess quotations carry differing shades of meaning and connotations. He

posits that in Fourth of July, for example, Ivess quotations represent not an objective

reproduction of an aural experience, but the communication of an attitude towards the

original occasiona way not only of hearing but also responding, feeling, relating,

thinking92

On the other hand, certain of Ivess works incorporate direct associative

quotation, driven by vocal music stripped of its text, which Ballantine likens to Bachs

use of Lutheran chorale tunes to import the symbolic weight of their liturgical

connotations. Ivess General William Booth Enters into Heaven may be taken as one

example of this, with its references to hymn tunes, but his output is rife with such

borrowings. As previously mentioned in chapter 2, Ballantine also points to the quotation

of There is a Fountain at the end of Ivess song West London, which he claims has the

effect of subtly and ironically over-throwing [the poets] easy optimism, since it

connotes, by association back to the absent text, the idea of a purification by blood.93

Another avenue of referential quotation employed by Ives is a sort of musical

philosophizing. The work Central Park in the Dark, for example, refers on one level to

the sounds one might hear at night in this location. On another level, as Ballantine points

out, by thus seizing, distorting, truncating the quotations, by implanting them in its own

92
Ibid., 168.
93
Ibid., 173.



166

fabric, the composition uses the associations connoted by those quotations, but implies an

attitude towards them, and that it uses those images as important building blocks,

among others, in the construction of its philosophy.94 Ballantines distinction of this

type of attitude towards quotation is an interesting one, as from a certain perspective all

musical quotation can be interpreted as philosophizing or musically meditating on the

borrowed materials.

An example of such musical philosophizing is also encountered in Ivess

Washingtons Birthday, which, while ostensibly referring to a barn dance, actually bears

little resemblance to the sonic environment encountered at one. As Ballantine puts it,

No barn dance sounds literally as Ives has depicted it here: this is


confusion enhanced and redoubleda musically composed confusion.
Were Ivess purpose merely to depict a barn dance, he could have done it
more simply and with less art. What is added to the simple, literal picture,
then, is art: an enhancement. And this enhancement does not operate
simply at the programmatic level, but rather is a musical characteristic
(Level A) which unites with the programmatic intention (Level B) to yield
a musico-philosophical significance (Level C). The enhanced barn dance
signifies human community offering warmth and a little refuge.95

Referential quotation may be viewed as explicitly and directly implicative, or may

more subtly juxtapose different particular references in a complex interaction of exterior

ideas and nuanced semiotic entanglements. Some of Charles Ivess and Robin

Holloways music could be said to contain these complex referential interactions,

although the high degree of manipulation applied to the source material and multitude of

references within single works sometimes makes objectively discerning clear features of

this interplay difficult. The same could be said of numerous other works that employ

oblique, manipulated, though still discretely identifiable quotation. For example, in the

94
Ballantine, 181.
95
Ibid., 184-5.



167

previously discussed instance of Berios Sinfonia, while it is apparent that the work is

about the idea of allusion, it requires of the listener a deeply nuanced knowledge of broad

swathes of music history and literature for a full understanding of the entirety of the

narrative of the piece. Recall, for example, that for the aquatic theme of the third

movement to be fully appreciated by the listener, they must be familiar with not only the

original Mahler and its allusion to his earlier song, but also Debussys La mer, and Bergs

Wozzeck.

As an example of a similarly multifaceted semantic interplay, Glenn Watkins

interprets Ivess Flanders Field (1917) as a combination of an aesthetic challenge to

Debussys music and a simultaneous affirmation of fraternity with the French. at a time

when they were Americas allies in war. He states that this work

Sets the openly maudlin text of John McCrae in the company of ingenious
combinations of the Marseillaise, America, and Columbia, Gem of the
Ocean. McCraes text was known to many a school child at the time, and the
tunes chosen by Ives were known to them as well. Memory, nostalgia, and fantasy
potentially flood the listener, and composite citation encourages intertextual
interpretation without freezing the message. Ivess surface symbolism, though not
difficult to read, is less obvious in its reference to Debussy, who had also placed
God Save the Queen (America) in octaves in the bass of his Hommage S.
Pickwick Esq., P.P.M.P.C. and had also used Marseillaise in the soprano of his
Feux dartifice, both Preludes from Book II published only a few years before.
Notice of the relationship brings to mind Ivess boldly stated opinion that
Debussy might have been a better composer had his spiritual premise been
stronger and his form, perfume, and manner less obviously in control.
Ivess manipulation of identical source materials in the same registers therefore
invites comparison, and his avoidance of Romantic sentimentality or
Impressionistic mists (Ives was capable of both) carries the ring of aesthetic
challenge.96

As in the previously discussed example, this is also a case in which there is an

easily interpretable surface narrative interaction engendered by the use of vernacular

allusions that would be perceivable to an audience unfamiliar with the Debussy works.

96
Glenn Watkins, Pyramids at the Louvre (Cambridge: CUP, 1994), 400.



168

There is likewise in this case also a deeper, more subtle semiotic network available to an

audience that is familiar with his music. This illustrates the point that the degree of

communicated meaning in cases of juxtaposition, at least on the conscious level, is

directly tied to both the listeners comprehension of the musical context and knowledge

of source material. The interplay between these streams of meaning is often not as easily

identifiable as in the above cases, however, and more oblique situations demand that

an interpretation of such symbolic relationships, while perhaps logical and sound to an

individual listener, be qualified as inherently subjective.

Fallas notes that there is a certain amount of play, not only between the symbols

at work in the music, but also between intended and perceived meaning in regards to

what a composer means by quotation, which requires a shared syntax for comprehension.

He also notes that, particularly in Robin Holloways music, even if one is aware that

quotation is happening in the piece, part of the aesthetic experience rests on the

ambiguity as to whether what one is hearing is quotation, and also at certain moments on

an ambiguity as to what is being quoted.97 This is also a factor in some of Ivess music,

particularly in terms of perceived meaning in works where quotation is pervasive and

eclectic. His Second Symphony, for example, is so rife with quotation from various

sources that the aesthetic of ambiguity previously discussed in the Berio and Holloway is

also encountered.98 This situation of the listener having to interpret the interaction and

interplay of so many references, over and above having to identify them, brings about a


97
Fallas, 4.
98
Ballantine, 179. He identifies quotations from Brahmss Second Symphony, Wagners Tristan
and Isolde and Die Walkrie, Bach, Bruckner, Dvorak, Beethoven, America the Beautiful, Turkey in the
Straw, Columbia, Camptown Races, Reveille, and When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, amongst
many other quotations in this Ives work.



169

state where the experience is so subjective and disorienting to the average listener that the

referential meanings of the quotations might fade into secondary importance.

This perceptual fusion of many individual references into a new entity is an

interesting phenomenon, and the tipping point at which it occurs for any individual

listener will be different, depending on their recognition and the density of allusions. This

sense of ambiguity that exists in some works between the discernment of individual

referential materials as distinct from the texture in which they exist is a fascinating

aesthetic experience in its own right, as Fallas noted, and can communicate a particular

psychological state to the audience. In this manner, musical collage differs greatly from

the practice in the visual arts. Music is a temporal art form, so a collage of the musical

variety has built into it a limited window of consideration and possible apprehension on

the part of the listener, whereas in visual collage the audience potentially has a much

longer interval in which to perceive the component materials and discern their

relationships.

Quotation may also be expressive of a composers particular aesthetic

preferences. While the musical landscape of today allows composers access to the totality

of possible sounds and sonic combinations, midtwentieth-century composers were often

discouraged from using a tertian language by a combination of factors, including the

ideas that this language is old-fashioned, not appropriate for serious art music, and that

too much aesthetic ground had been covered between historically tonal music and the

present for it to be a legitimate and honest lexicon in which to work. As Adorno notes,

there is a viewpoint that exists that perhaps dissonant, atonal, rebarbative Modernist



170

music is the only type that honestly holds a mirror up to modern society. In his

Philosophy of Modern Music, he asserts that

the general public, totally cut off from the production of new music, is alienated
by the outward characteristics of such music. The deepest currents in this
[Modernist] music proceed, however, from exactly those sociological and
anthropological foundations peculiar to that public. The dissonances which
horrify them testify to their own conditions; for that reason alone do they find
them unbearable.99

Therefore, through the philosophy and aesthetic of Postmodernism, composers

whose aesthetic preferences lean in the direction of a traditional tertian vocabulary, if not

necessarily traditional syntax, form, or process, have open to them the techniques of

quotation and collage. These techniques can lay claim to the materials of the past as

readily as to those of the present, perhaps allowing composers to bypass the perceived

mid-century necessity of grasping such a stark mirror.

However, the point of view that this is merely a rationalization for music that

works in an outmoded aesthetic, and the idea that this type of music represents the

dangers of Postmodernism and pandering to an audience with no taste for complex or

dissonant music, must be frankly addressed. John Adams vividly recounts his experience

with this attitude at the premier of Grand Pianola Music (1982), which was programmed

on a concert dominated by Modernist works. Adams recalls that the audience response

included a

substantial and (to me) shocking number of boos In the context of this
otherwise rather sober repertoire Grand Pianola Music must doubtless
have seemed like a smirking truant with a dirty face, in need of a severe
spanking. To this day, it has remained a weapon of choice among
detractors who wish to hold up my work as exemplary of the evils of


99
Theodor Adorno, Philosophy of Modern Music, trans. Anne G. Mitchell and Wesley V.
Blomster (New York: Continuum, 2003), 9.



171

Postmodernism oreven more drasticthe pernicious influences of
American consumerism on high art.100

To my mind, the primary difference between composers who use Postmodernism

as an excuse pander to a particular audience that has no taste for complex musical ideas,

and those who are using quotation for more original, nuanced artistic purposes, seems to

be an issue of syntax and contextualization. While a composer who is simply imitating

the Classical or Romantic style will tend, in addition to appropriating materials from this

music, not to transcend the idioms of these historical musical epochs, a composer who

appropriates and then significantly recontextualizes these materials in new ways is

sincerely operating within the Postmodern aesthetic and ought not to be immediately

accused of pandering or deliberately diminishing the artistic level of their work. If

composers bring at least as much to the new work as the materials which they are

borrowing, then the questions of pandering, plagiarism, and borrowing legitimacy from

canonized works are rendered less applicable.

Approaching historical musical vocabularies through Postmodern commentary

and collage not only allows composers to access their various aesthetics, but also allows

them to recontextualize the quotations, or, conversely, allow the quotations to

recontextualize the new musical materials, through the way in which they are presented.

It may sometimes be difficult to ascertain whether this particular practice is being

employed genuinely in a work, as it is closely tied to composer intent and requires an

insight into the reasons a composer chose to employ certain quotational techniques or

materials. This is of course a subjective area of inquiry, as not only are composers often

silent on this topic, but the issues of honesty, self-awareness, and even memory come into

100
John Adams, Program Note for Grand Pianola Music, Earbox.com. www.earbox.com/
other-ensemble-works/grand-pianola-music (accessed November 14, 2013).



172

play when composers do make remarks. The process of composition is usually a long and

often an intuitive one, and even if composers are forthcoming with explanations, they do

not always remember with precision the exact choices they made in creating a work.

Others, like Igor Stravinsky for example, made certain assertions about their past works

for branding, political, or aesthetic reasons.

The matter of a composers choice of source material when borrowing can range

from the mundane and personal to the profound and political. As discussed earlier,

Reynolds asserted that certain things can be inferred about a composers attitudes towards

and relationship with the canon from which they borrow, citing Brahmss relationship

with Beethoven as indicated by the former composers modeling of the latters works.

Watkins also notes that choice of borrowed materials can be construed as a political

statement, pointing to the instance of Alfred Schnittkes prolific use of this practice,

borrowing extensively as he did from the Western European tradition, but avoiding

materials that were distinctly Russian.101 Contextualized by the Soviet political climate of

the 1970s and 80s, such a decision to quote from this repertoire carried significant socio-

political overtones, perhaps also placing the composer in danger of social, if not grave

personal repercussions.

Conversely, Watkins also draws attention to more prosaic motivations in regards

to Terry Rileys Salome Dances for Peace.102 This work ecumenically borrows from

numerous diverse sources and traditions. However, as Riley wrote in the liner notes for

the LP, this was not meant to be programmatic of any particular multi-cultural or


101
Watkins, 410
.
102
Ibid., 413.



173

cosmopolitan narrative. He simply claims that this is because [he has] listened to a lot of

music from all over the world for the past 30 years.103

My own choices of sources for borrowing generally lean in a more practical

direction. I tend to borrow from music that 1) I find attractive, interesting, and of good

quality, and 2) that I think will successfully produce aesthetically pleasing results,

although I am certainly cognizant of the referential interplay and impact that these

borrowings suggest and use them to support whatever programmatic or narrative goals I

am trying to achieve. Thus, while my various borrowings from Coltrane, Liszt, Berlioz,

Crumb, Stravinsky, Nancarrow, Scriabin, Messiaen, Debussy, and Irish nautical work

music have all been partially driven by my interest in and admiration for those composers

and repertoires, the primary consideration in accessing them was motivated by the fact

that I was trying to compose a nuanced and interesting new work. Ultimately, even if I

am interested in a particular musical tradition or composer, or enjoy listening to a

particular piece of music, if I feel that needs of the new work that I am composing are not

served by a borrowing from that source, I will not use it. Interest in a composer or piece

may spark the inspiration for a new work, but, for me, quotation is never something done

for its own sake and is always employed in the service of my goals in the new work I am

composing.

Another reason that motivates some composers to engage in the practice of

quotation is that of homage. This variety of allusion has less to do with aesthetic or

dramatically rhetorical considerations than it does with an expression of respect, or at

least interest, in the music of a composers antecedents or contemporaries. Musical

homage is also different in that the quotation can be encountered at any structural level of

103
Ibid., 414.



174

a composition, and may exist in any of the perceptual levels discussed in this essay. The

intent may not be to communicate a certain idea or psychological state to the listener

through reference to a previous work (although this could certainly occur in an ancillary

fashion), but rather to allow one composer to express admiration or respect for another.

The listener might not even notice that quotation is happening if the homage is

used in a clandestine fashion, although I would hazard that works of this nature are in the

minority, as the motivations for homage are often distinctly salutary and obscuring it

might seem to defeat its purpose. Some examples of this type of allusion include Luciano

Berios homage to Brahms, and consequently Bernstein, in Sinfonia, Bergs quotation of

Bach in his Violin Concerto, and Adamss pervasive quotation of Beethoven in Absolute

Jest. The quotation in McLoskeys Star Chamber discussed briefly at the beginning of

chapter 4 can also be seen as operating in this fashion, although it is less overt. Joan

Towers work Petroushskates may also be perceived as an act of homage to Stravinsky.

So may her Fanfare for the Uncommon Woman be construed as an homage to Copland,

albeit with a less directly adulatory connotation and more of an interrogative one, best

described as an example of contrastive allusion, discussed later in this chapter. The

work may be viewed as a juxtaposition of the concepts of proletariat empowerment and

Feminism by contextualizing her own compositional ideas within those of Coplands, the

semantic connections prompting the listener to contemplate a certain philosophical

viewpoint.

Thus we see that the idea of an ironic borrowing, or, in other cases a parodic kind

of sarcastic allusion are also possible. This differs from homage in that the context of the

new work intentionally changes the manner of the borrowed music. One is reminded



175

immediately, although with different specific overtones, of Shostakovichs satiric,

parodic quotation of Lehars Da geh ich zu Maxim, as well as other Austro-Germanic

music in his Seventh Symphony. In the socio-political context surrounding the

composition, these allusions can only be construed as symbolizing the Nazi incursion.

This would have been in line with the general gist of Soviet cultural and social

consciousness after the World War II, though one is also forced to consider

Shostakovichs complex relationship with the cultural authorities of his society in

interpreting this work. While one does occasionally have to look beyond the music itself

in categorizing instances of quotation as homage or parody, certain musicological clues

exist that can lead to these conclusions. A composers connections with the tradition that

they emerged from, as well as any writings or interviews pertinent to the works in

question, can aid in contextualizing a borrowing, vis--vis a composers relationship to

the past or to their contemporaries.

Extra-referential Reasons to Borrow

The ramifications and benefits of using quotation as a structurally unifying device

for its own sake, as opposed to using it as a rhetorical, referential, or laudatory

compositional device, are numerous and these techniques can be approached in several

ways. This is not by any means a new practice; the basic concept extends back to the use

of plainchants for isorhythmic colour and the practice of cantus firmus in Renaissance

masses. Nor does this technique preclude any of the other quotational techniques

discussed thus far, and it may be used in combination with them to create subtly nuanced

semantic networks of interrelated references. While a quotation can certainly be

perceived as operating in multiple streams simultaneously, the discussion here is more



176

focused on structural functions of borrowing and the formal implications inherent to

pervasive quotation, rather than to its referential or aesthetic implications.

Quotation need not necessarily consist of surface elements, either. As was noted

previously, Berios Sinfonia, for example, not only incorporates quotation from many

sources on a surface, referential level, but imports its structural framework from previous

music. Likewise the formal modeling of Beethovens Waldstein by Brahms in his First

Piano Sonata is another example of the use of an existing works macro-structure in the

creation of a new one.104 To a lesser extent McLoskeys Quartettrope can also be

considered an example of this, although the inclusion of the entirety of the previous work

marks it as a singular example of this practice and complicates its categorization.

Conversely, if a works large structures may be used as a framework to create a

new work, its atomic materials may also be used in this fashion. Michael Gordons

Rewriting, discussed in the third chapter, is a fascinating example of this practice,

although the appropriate metaphor for his borrowings in this work might be molecular,

rather than atomic. The idea that the basic motivic materials of a work might be borrowed

and freely introduced into a new framework, with independent and newly-created macro-

structures in this way is reminiscent of parody mass techniques of the Renaissance, as

was noted by composer Lansing McLoskey in our interview. Parenthetically, he also

brought up the fact that, in sixteenth-century works of this type, there is evidence that not

only were composers borrowing according to this practice with great frequency, but were


104
Reynolds, 24-5.



177

actually doing so competitively, displaying their compositional prowess by taking the

materials of anothers piece and reworking them into a presumably better final product.105

While the diversity of musical materials available to modern composers for this

type of borrowing is much greater, similar practices are used by composers in certain

other works that have been discussed in previous chapters, such as McLoskeys OK-OK,

which literally reduces an entire extant work to its series of pitches and reconstructs

them, and my own Nancarrow Meditations, which uses short fragments from that

composers works in drastically different musical applications. Likewise, the clandestine

quotation of Apollonian Echo and Necessary Steps, which borrow patterns of pitches as

short as three or four notes, then reconstructs these atoms into much larger musical

textures, bears a certain resemblance to these historical practices of quotation. The

difference in these latter works is that there is a certain amount of occlusion that is a

result of the brevity, genericness, and variety of the borrowed materials, and the high

degree of manipulation applied to them. Nevertheless, if there is a logical musical

connection between the materials in such a reservoir, it is quite likely that their features

will have a specific impact on a work that significantly draws from it.

As mentioned several times in this essay, materials drawn from a particular

source, so long as the source is musically self-consistent and homogeneous, may by their

very nature lend a built-in unity to the new work. Correspondingly, a dramatically

original or dissimilar musical language, juxtaposed against a systematic use of structural

quotation, can create stark contrasts and allow the listener to perceive the new


105
McLoskey, interview. This is also suggested by Howard Mayer Brown, Emulation,
Competition, and Homage: Imitation and Theories of Imitation in the Renaissance, JAMS 35, no. 1
(Spring 1982): 10. Brown notes that, while this is plausible for a variety of reasons, there is not any specific
historical documentation of composer intent in these cases to say with certainly that de facto competition
between composers is evidenced by these borrowings.



178

compositional materials within a familiar context or framework. Furthermore, while

various methods of manipulation, distortion, reinterpretation, and transformation may

provide contrast and interest, as long as the source or sources of the quoted materials

provide a coherent compositional context or reportorially consistent continuum, an

intrinsic unity will be extant to some degree in the new work, independent of the

composers new disposition of these materials.

In addition to providing this unity, such patterns of borrowing will invariably

leave a genetic imprint on the resulting music that may not have been there if the micro-

quotations had not been employed. The intervallic and rhythmic features of even the

most concise musical elements, when they are employed consistently and systematically,

cannot help but leave their mark on the new work, even if they are pitted against or

partially subsumed by substantial amounts of new material. The resulting music that uses

these compositional practices will have features that might not have otherwise been

independently employed by the borrowing composer, unless the borrowings are in a very

similar musical lexicon to his or her own. In effect, this combines the musical grammar

of the borrowing composer with the vocabulary of the preexisting music, creating a

hybridization of both composers selection preferences, contextualized within the

compositional preferences and techniques of the composer of the new work.

Linguistic Models and Embedded Topics

This linguistic metaphor is a particularly germane one, as many scholars such as

Kofi Agawu and Chris Reynolds, among others, have compared semiotic function in

music to that of language, or at least used the lexicon of linguistics to describe similar

processes in musical semiotics. The ways in which music conveys meaning in this



179

fashion ought to be briefly addressed here, as the use of quotation often implies that an

attempt is being made on the part of the composer to convey the meaning associated with

the borrowed music, or to convey a contrasting, ironic, or interrogative stance towards

those meanings.

Chris Reynolds discusses the distinction between these modes of expression, and

in his examination of Romantic borrowings he draws upon the theories of philosopher

and semiotician Mikhail Bakhtin, who describes two types of double-voiced discourse:

unidirectional and varidirectional. Reynolds refers to the musical equivalent of Bakhtins

unidirectional discourse, in which the two voices share common aims: a speaker adopts

the words of someone else with the same or similar point of view, as assimilative

allusions. Bakhtins varidirectional discourse occurs in situations where the two voices

differ in meaning: a speaker adopts anothers words, using them in a way that conflicts

with their original sense. Reynolds refers to this type of discourse as contrastive when

applied to musical allusion. This second category refers to the use of music in a parodic

or ironic borrowing, or any transmission of someone elses words where there is a shift

in accent.106

In providing a musical example of this varidirectional double-voiced discourse,

Reynolds points to Kenneth Hulls assertions about the ironic allusion to the finale of

Beethovens Fifth Symphony in Brahmss Fourth, which he interprets as meant to create

a tragic, rather than triumphal conclusion, and Raymond Knapps assertions that Brahms

was employing the allusion as a double-edged sword, with which he could either secure

his generic orientation or, by reversing direction, challenge that orientation by


106
Reynolds, 16-17.



180

introducing contrasting elements.107 Less complex examples of such contrastive allusion

previously discussed in this chapter are those of Shostakovich musically mocking

Lehars insipid Austrian theme and Towers use of the context of Coplands Fanfare to

emphasize her own program in her new work.

These recontextualizing contrastive allusions are certainly less common by dint of

their relative complexity, but I personally find these far more interesting in their layers of

meaning and technical compositional practices. However, there are certainly nuanced

examples of assimilative borrowings as well. One of the more interesting that Reynolds

points to is Wagners use of the motive from the beginning of Liszts Faust at certain key

narrative points in Die Walkre, such as when Hunding recognizes Siegmund as his

enemy, but bound by custom, must offer hospitality rather than vengeance; when

Sieglinde dreams of the apocalypse and of wishing that her father would return from the

woods and realize the significance of Siegmunds love for her; and when Wotan admits

to Brunhilde that he longed to defend Siegmund, but could not do so. All of these points

share the common theme of longing and regret, a key narrative feature of Faust.

Reynolds notes that Wagner had alluded to his thoughts on Faust in private

correspondence with Mathilde Wesendonck, stating that, to him, Faust signified the idea

of missed opportunity.108 Each of these scenes in Die Walkre contains elements of

regret, or missed opportunity, and the reference to Liszts Faust is present to a degree in

each, its prominence according to the intensity of that emotions expression.

Additionally, parallels exist between Wotans inability to recognize Siegmunds love for

Sieglinde and Fausts inability to learn from Gretchens. This is a nuanced example of

107
Ibid.
108
Ibid., 60.



181

assimilative borrowing, but it is also very much in line with the way Wagner treated his

musical signifiers in general, borrowed or not. Reynolds also notes that this type of

allusion serves to exemplify that type of motive which Carl Dahlhaus recognized as

malleable or indistinct (the meaning of a motive can be indefinite, or can branch out to

cover a field of related meanings); they defy simple labeling and Wagner did not

accompany them with texts that encouraged unambiguous interpretation.109

While musical meaning is conveyed differently than linguistic meaning, there are

many parallels between the two systems. Kofi Agawu, for instance, makes ten assertions

about the relationships between music, language, and human society.110 Among these, he

notes that the distinction between differing direct communicative and poetic modes of

language is largely absent in music, and therefore its specificity of meaning has never

needed to be clearly defined. This leads to his assertion that, by its very nature musics

discursive [emphasis mine] communicative capacity is inferior to that of language.111

Through this feature of musics non-specific discursive framework, a great variety of

semiotic meanings can be conveyed by the same gesture, depending on both context

within a work and the capacity of the listener to place various musical utterances within

the context of the extant repertoire and their cultural experience.

Another layer of connotative specificity is added when music consists not only of

a commonly-alluded-to musical topic, which is Agawus term for commonly used

musical references that have concrete meanings for a given audience. When the music

makes a specific reference to a single work, which may or may not contain nested topics


109
Ibid., 61.
110
V. Kofi Agawu, Music as Discourse (New York: OUP, 2009), 20-29.
111
Ibid., 22.



182

that were contextualized in a certain way in that work, more distinct shades of meaning

are possible.

In Music as Discourse, Agawu expands the idea of a universe of topics,

originally proposed in his 1991 Playing with Signs, which drew on the research of

Leonard Ratner and others. The list of topics he proposes here, updated for the topics

encountered in Romantic music, similarly draws upon symbolism proposed by Raymond

Monelle, Janice Dickensheets, and Mrta Grabcz, the latter of whom not only developed

topics pertinent to Romantic music in general, but even personalized topics relating to the

outputs of particular composers.112 Danuta Mirkas work on twentieth-century topics is

also included, which specifically relates to Bartk and Stravinsky, but could also pertain

to other composers of this era.113

Table 5.1: The topics posited for Romantic music by Dickensheets and Grabcz, noted by Agawu.

Dickensheetss topics, from Carl Maria von Weber, Chopin, Schubert, Berlioz, Mendelssohn, Smetana,
Grieg, Herz, Saint-Saens, Liszt, Verdi, Brahms, Mahler, and Tchaikovsky.
1. archaizing styles 9. demonic style 17. pastoral style
2. aria style 10. fairy music 18. singing style
3. bardic style 11. folk style 19. Spanish style
4. bolero 12. gypsy music 20. style hongrois
5. Biedermeier style 13. heroic style 21. stile appassionato
6. Chinoiserie 14. Indianist style 22. tempest style
7. chivalric style 15. Italian style 23. virtuosic style
8. declamatory/recitative 16. lied style, incl. lullaby, 24. waltz (landler)
Style Kriegslied, Winterlied

Grabczs topics, from Liszts output.


1. appassionato, agitato 10. recitativo 15. the pathetic, which
2. march 11. lamenting, elegiac is the exalted form of the bel
3. heroic 12. citations Canto
4. scherzo 13. grandioso, 16, the pantheistic, an
5. pastoral triumphando (going back to amplified variant or the
6. religioso the heroic theme) pastoral or religious type
7. folkloric 14. the lugubrious type
8. bel canto, singing deriving at the same time as the
9. bel canto, declamatory appassionato/lamentoso

112
Agawu, Music as Discourse, 46-7. Grabcz proposes lists of topics found in Liszt and Mahler.
113
Ibid., 48.



183

(Table 5.1, contd)

Grabczs topics, from Mahlers output.


1. nature theme 7. funeral march 13. bell motif
2. fanfare 8. arioso 14. Totentanze
3. horn call 9. aria 15. lament
4. bird call 10. minuet 16. Landler
5. chorale 11. recitative 17. march
6. pastorale 12. scherzo 18. folk song

Source: V. Kofi Agawu, Music as Discourse (New York: OUP, 2009), 46-7

Table 5.2: Mirkas twentieth-century topics.

(A) = Eighteenth century dances (B) = National musics (C) = Other

(A)1. menuet (B)11. Jewish music (C)21.Gregorian Chant


2. gavotte 12. Czech music 22. chorale
3. bouree 13. Polish music 23. Russian Orth. church
4. Sarabande 14. Hungarian music 24. learned style
5. gigue 15. Gypsy music 25. chaconne
6. pavane 16. Russian music 26. recitative
7. passepied 17. Spanish music 27. singing style
8. tarantella 18. Latin music 28. barcarole
9. tango 19. East Asian music 29. Afro-Am. Spirituals
10. waltz 20. North American 30. jazz
country-western music 31. caf music
32. circus music
33. barrel organ
34. lullaby
35. childrens song
36. fanfare
37. military march
38. funeral march
39. pastoral
40. elegy
41. machine music

Source: V. Kofi Agawu, Music as Discourse (New York: OUP, 2009), 48.

When topics also occur as borrowings, or are imbedded in a larger texture of

recontextualized music, the semantic network of interrelated meanings can be manifold.

Wagners borrowing from Faust, which could be described as referring to Grabczs

lamenting, elegiac topic, or my importation of Mephistopheles music in Faust Fantasy,

referring to passages that contain Grabczs lugubrious or agitato topic or Dickensheets

demonic topic, are examples of this rich interplay. In these situations, not only is there

symbolic weight transferred from the Liszt and the topic, but also the way in which Liszt



184

chose to employ and contextualize that topic in his work. In other words, both instances

have implications in terms of their references to programmatic ideas from the Liszt, but

they also carry the more generic connotations of these topics, in addition to an added

layer of meaning generated by the specific way in which Liszt contextualized these topics

in Faust.

Similarly, what might be proposed as the topic of dissonant atonality, a

prevalent idea in Weberns Quartet, when mitigated by the use of quintal harmony and

juxtaposed against allusions to the topic of jazz by McLoskey in Quartettrope, sets up the

potential for a rich topical play in the course of its recontextualization. The references to

an even more specific topic under the umbrella of jazz, that of bebop, when imported into

the lexicon of Necessary Steps which also includes references to the topics of the heroic

style and what could be described as the contemporary topic of minimalism created

many opportunities for play between these topics in this work. This type of fusion or

interaction between layers of symbolism or multiple signifiers is referred to as trope by

authors such as Robert Hatten, who broadly defines this synthesis as interactions or

fusions of disparate, at times even incompatible, stylistic types (including gestures and

topics) that are superimposed or juxtaposed in a single functional location, where they

propose creative meanings that emerge from their contextual interaction.114 He also

discusses the emergent meanings that such situations can create and the nuanced

rhetorical effects that they can produce.

What topics tell us about the way musical symbols can convey meaning to the

listener, however, is of even greater concern to this essay. If a specific topic, which


114
Robert S. Hatten, Performance and Analysis-Or Synthesis: Theorizing Gesture, Topics, and
Tropes in Chopins F-Minor Ballade, Indiana Theory Review 28, no. 1/2 (Spring/Fall 2010): 51.



185

amounts to a loose collection of harmonic, rhythmic, and technical compositional

features, can become loaded with symbolic weight in terms of its repeated usage in

similar contexts throughout a repertoire, ought not a very specific set of these features

contextualized within the narrative of canonized work, under repeated hearings become

imbued with an even greater specificity of meaning? The importation of borrowed

materials, if used in a perceivable fashion, therefore operates in similar ways,

accumulating not a social sediment, as Agawu describes the process of the ascription

of meaning to topics, but an even more direct musical and narrative set of meanings

generated by the source materials contexts.115

Ethical Considerations and Aesthetic Authority

There are also various ethical considerations to be addressed pertinent to

borrowing musical materials from an extant composition or repertoire, some of which are

so great as to possibly create legal ramifications for the quoting composer. If an allusion

is significant enough to be readily recognizable as coming from another work, and the

source was recently composed, there are copyright implications to contend with and

something that society feels the need to impose laws against is certainly worth

approaching with moral caution. The only reason that much of the canon of Western

music is freely available for borrowing in new works is that those who would stand to

gain from forbidding such allusions by insisting on lengthier copyright protection are

really in no position to voice their opinions on the matter. In approaching more recent

music as borrowable material, the ideas of hidden quotation and micro-quotation might

also serve the practical purpose for the composer of allowing them to interface with these

works without opening themselves up to legal recourse.



115
Agawu, Music as Discourse, 42.



186

But, legalities aside, is taking the materials of another artist and re-forging them

in ones own work an ethically correct thing to do? Regardless of the fact that a pattern of

this type of borrowing has existed since the inception of notated music, what gives an

artist the right to do this? This is a question I have thought deeply about and returned to

many times as I have used this compositional technique over the years. What I have

decided justifies this practice, however, is a combination of factors that really boils down

to a sense of respect for the music that one is borrowing from.

I think that if one respects a musical tradition and engages with it on equal terms,

that is enough to justify interfacing with it. And as a twenty-first century American who

was not steeped in the European art music tradition from an early age, I feel just as

comfortable accessing any number of traditions besides that one for inspiration and

borrowed materials. In addition to having studied various musical traditions thoughtfully,

this is also because I have found in these repertoires music that moves me and to which I

feel connected. I believe that if a composer cares about the music in question and comes

to an internal affirmation of its worth, that gives one the right to meet it on an equal

footing and interface with it.

Another aspect of this question of aesthetic authority is how much the quoting

composer brings to the new work in terms of craft, creativity, and materials. This is

something that I have always been conscious of in my works that import other music. It

is my opinion that it is absolutely paramount that composers bring as much of their

technique and artistry as possible to bear in trying to create something greater or equal to

the sum of their borrowings, or at least that is interestingly new or different enough to

justify the importations. If the quotations bring more artistic value to the new work than



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the composer that employs them brings through creativity and craft in using the imports

and any new musical ideas or structures present, something is missing and the work

might not be successful on its own terms, independent of the listeners apprehension of

the allusions. Again it is useful to recall Robin Holloways previously-mentioned

thoughts on the matter regarding artistic reciprocity. If I care about a particular piece or

repertoire enough to want to use elements of it in my own music, that implies that I find

that music valuable. And, as I respect and appreciate the value of the music I am

borrowing from, I naturally feel compelled to keep up my side of the bargain, using my

abilities and talents as a composer to deploy these borrowed materials in new and

interesting ways that contribute as much to the quality of the work as the quoted

materials.

If a composer does not do this, then perhaps any worth found in the new work

might be construed as being derived from those materials themselves and not the

composers usage of them. In this situation, a composer might be seen as borrowing any

legitimacy the work has from the quotations in it. This is a criticism of some Postmodern

collage works where perhaps a composer did not adequately pay for the borrowings, in

which the piece does not stand up without the listeners perceiving the allusions, a

phenomenon that Lansing McLoskey discussed in our interview:

Of course the piece has to be successful on its own terms. I guess thats why I feel
sometimes Postmodernist quotation is less successful, because it relies so much
on the listener getting the joke. Oh, look, theres a quotation of Debussy, and
heres Elvis Presley, and heres some speed-metal, too. Its that sort of
Postmodernism [that] can come off as contrived I think Postmodernism is
sometimes used as an excuse for lack of quality, lack of imagination. If a
composer quotes Beethoven, then, all of a sudden, maybe they are borrowing the
legitimacy of Beethoven. It can be a form of borrowed legitimacy.116


116
McLoskey, interview.



188

When a work uses direct, referential quotation, or even lightly manipulated

quotation, the listener presumably understands that a borrowing is taking place. However,

in the cases of clandestine and micro-quotation, perhaps the listener will not recognize

that this is even happening. That raises the question for a composer who uses these

techniques as to whether or not to acknowledge the source of the borrowings. On the one

hand, if the borrowed materials are so subsumed by the new work, or are so generic that

they do not evoke the source music for the listener, are these borrowings even worth

acknowledging? If the listener does not perceive them, are not these imports a private

matter between the composer and the previously-composed music? Or is the composer

obliged to cite his sources, giving the quoted music its due and sharing the credit for

the new composition with these materials, even if they are significantly paraphrased or

manipulated in the new work? I do not claim to have definitive answers to these

questions, nor do the numerous writings on these practices referenced in this essay. My

inclination has always been to indicate that an allusion is taking place, in either program

notes, or the title, or through a musical epigraph such as was employed in the Ives and

McLoskey works discussed in previous chapters.

This comes from a double-edged motivation which is altruistic and respectful of

the music of other composers on the one hand, but is also of a source-citing mentality on

the other, perhaps meaning to stave off any accusation of musical plagiarism by openly

admitting to the provenance of materials borrowed in certain works. This choice is also

motivated to an extent by a self-interested Kantian categorical imperative: If another

composer were to use these techniques to draw from my music, I would not begrudge that

composer any allusions, but would at least prefer that I were credited in some fashion.



189

Hence the titles of Nancarrow Meditations, Faust Fantasy, Necessary Steps, and

Apollonian Echo, the first of which is eponymous, and the latter three providing at least a

possible clue to their borrowings sources for listeners familiar with the outputs of the

composers in question.

By their very nature, the ideas of clandestine and micro-quotation raise a

particular set of ambiguities in terms of artistic ascription. When a composer appropriates

any previously-composed material, especially in a pervasive fashion, how much of the

resulting music is attributable to that composer? Can a note-by-note statistical analysis,

showing how many pitches are borrowings and how many are the composers own, for

instance, determine that, say, eighty-five percent of a work belongs to the quoting

composer? I think it is almost certainly more nuanced than that. The manner of the

borrowed materials deployment and juxtaposition must also be factored into such an

equation. The greater the degree to which materials are manipulated, in general, the more

ownership the alluding composer can take of those materials. This can exist anywhere on

a continuum from slight alteration, transposition, and reorchestration, through rhythmic

profile manipulation, intervallic alteration, and stark juxtapositions, to atomization,

occlusion through saturation, and total melodic, harmonic, or rhythmic obliteration.

Table. 5.3: General continuum of possible manipulations of borrowed material. Note that any of
these methods can be exaggerated or restrained, increasing or decreasing its effect on the
perceivability of the borrowing.



190

Thus, perhaps borrowings such as some of Ivess, which freely bend the contours

of the borrowed melodies, or McLoskeys total melodic atomization of Charlie Parkers

sax solo in OK-OK, might be said to confer more ownership of the resulting music on the

quoting composer than Wagner can take of Liszts Faust, or Rochberg can take of

Mozarts. The reason for this is that the former composers manipulations of the

borrowed materials serve to preclude the perception of these materials as specifically

belonging to a previous work. As mentioned earlier, there are certain things a composer

can do to imported music to leave their compositional fingerprints on borrowed

materials, paradoxically increasing their claim to ownership of that music.

However, it is important to note that attaining ownership of borrowed materials is

often not the point of quotation, especially in the case of the referential variety, which

depends on allusional perception of distinct external music and its accordant symbolic

weight to function within the narrative of a new work. More often than not, in these

situations borrowings are couched in the context of a majority of newly composed music

and function symbolically, such as in Rochbergs Magic Theater. In this context,

Rochberg is not really taking compositional ownership of the music of Mozart, Mahler,

Davis, Schoenberg, Varse, or Penderecki, but is invoking those musics as symbols and

juxtaposing them in the context of his own newly composed textures.

Also, the more covertly quotation is employed, the more ownership a composer

can take for the resultant music. This is not merely through a lack of perception on the

part of the listener that the materials in the new work are anything but a composers own,

although an unscrupulous composer could certainly take advantage of this. If the work

uses quotation in such a way that it is not perceivable as such, not only has the borrowing



191

composer almost certainly brought significant amounts of craft and creativity to bear on

the deployment of the materials, but the work will stand or fail on its own merits,

independent of any legitimacy afforded by the quoted music.

In the case of micro-quotation of borrowed materials, this ascriptive question

begins to approach a point of negation. If a composer plucks a four note motive from

here, an ornament from there, and a scale followed by a leap in contrary motion from a

prosaic accompaniment figure from 200 measures later in the same work, is this really

even properly interpretable as quotation? And if these brief motives are interconnected

with ideas from diverse works or places within a single work, or newly composed

linkages, such as is encountered in Holloways First Symphony, as well as my

Apollonian Echo and Nancarrow Meditations, their weight as external signifiers

drastically diminishes and they cease to belong to or refer to the original works as

coherently as in other more perceivable instances of borrowing. In these situations, while

extended study of the music and knowledge of the canon might allow an interested party

to point to this or that passage in the new work and suggest a motives origins, due to the

generic and atomic nature of the borrowings features a case could be made that it was

citing any number of previously composed works, and thus its weight as a distinct

signifier is rendered ambiguous or diminished to nothing.

In works of this nature, there is also an aesthetic of ambiguity, a concept

previously discussed in this chapter, which John Fallas cites as one of the primary

avenues of semiotic play in Holloways music. He notes that this composers particular

use of borrowed materials creates a situation in that something apparently certain and

knowablethe derivation of material from well-known sourceshas led to something



192

hallucinatorily uncertain: ghosts in daylight.117 Likewise, in Shant and Apollonian Echo,

I attempt to foster such ambiguity as a compositional parameter, not only atomizing the

materials, but further blurring the line between allusion and newly-composed music by

imitating certain aspects of the borrowed music in the new material. Music that contains

this sort of twilight between the native and the other, between the old and new, provides

the composer with enticing opportunities to create rich and nuanced tapestries of

meaning.

Why Use Quotation?

Finally, this chapter raises one last question: Why? Why use quotation at all? If

one is presumably a competent composer, capable of creating interesting and well-crafted

works in whatever personal idiom one chooses to employ, what is it about the idea of

using materials from previously created works that has been unwaveringly attractive not

only to composers, but to practitioners of all the arts, throughout history? Lansing

McLoskey mused on his reasons for using the practice in our interview:

There are several different reasons There are examples of quotation in my


music where its an integral part of the piece, which may be a result of the
commissioning ensemble, organization, or if the music is having to do with a
particular text, or if its some sort of other theme. It can also be more of a
compositional challenge that I give myself. Or it can be [personally] symbolic,
where I dont care at all whether the listener is aware of it, and I dont even put it
in the program note ... Let me say this though, in most cases, when I use
quotation, or borrowing, Im recontextualizing. This is not a blanket statement,
but the kind of quotation Im less interested in is direct quotationwhere it
symbolizes something and its totally recognizable and overt. I do do that
sometimes, but thats the exception. Usually Im more interested in a
recontextualization, where the original source material may not be recognizable.
What the purpose is for doing that, though, is a really good question, and I dont
really have a ready answer for that, because it varies from piece to piece.118


117
Fallas, 5
118
McLoskey, interview.



193

McLoskey agrees that the very idea that artists throughout history have frequently

felt compelled to borrow from or allude to previously-created works, with varying

techniques and levels of perceivability, is in itself a fascinating phenomenon. The

motivations that lead a composer to not only be inspired by the music of another, but to

feel compelled to appropriate musical features from that work in a new composition is

certainly an intriguing psycho-philosophical question, but ultimately one that is beyond

the scope of this essay.

Composer Robin Holloway also noted another reason for the use of quotation in

our 2014 interview. Much like the manner in which some of Lansing McLoskeys

quotations in Quartettrope serve the practical purpose of integrating his new music into

that of Weberns, Holloway discussed the practical application of using familiar musical

allusions to tag certain musical features and processes. Rather than perform complex

musical processes on arbitrary or indiscernible atonal materials, Holloway used

recognizable quotations to delineate form and process in his Second Concerto for

Orchestra. His reason for this was to allow a listener that was unable to follow otherwise

complex, Modernist procedures to at least have something to hold on to, still permitting

them to follow the narrative of the piece. As he said,

in this case, these were tags to help the listener follow complex processes. I
thought, the Carter [Concerto for Orchestra] is a great masterpiece, but no ones
going to be able to follow that [kind of music], without a hundred listenings,
which no ones ever going to get in their life. (Im talking about general
audiences, here) But if it [the aesthetic experience] works for them, it would be
by hanging on to these color-coded tags. Then you can follow that color
through the maze, and then that one, as they intertwine, do this or that, they
metamorphose, but its always very clear, and that will take you through the
jungle, or the maze, or the traffic jamall metaphors for the complex terrain
covered by a journey in time [This works] because theres always a little bit of
O Sole Mio, a bit of Chopin, which have been planted at a very definite place.
This is the hair to follow follow that animal through, see what happens. He



194

might be life-size, he might suddenly be thirty feet high, but its still that same
animal. They might eventually start inter-crossing, but you can still get there,
because theyre distinct, their traits have been so distinctly delineated at first. In
other words: quotation as a help for the listener, not because its a quotation, but
because its a very strong bit of identity.119

In her 2011 book, Why Do We Quote?: The Cultural History of Quotation, Ruth

Finnegan discussed the broad motivations for this practice as a cultural phenomenon, not

only in the arts, but in the social context of our day-to-day lives. She comes to the

conclusion that the idea of quotation as a human sociological function is too diverse and

variegated to even be properly defined, and that

there is no uniform way that quoting and quotation are demarcated, practised and
conceptualised. It is true that the other theme to emerge [from a discussion of
quotation] is that the use of others words and voices is unmistakeably a highly
significantand sensitivedimension of human communication. Perhaps it is for
that very reason that quoting in the end turns out so elusive and that to offer some
bounded answer to the question what is quotation? at last proves impossible.120

She comes to much the same conclusion as McLoskey in terms of the human

motivations for quotation, however, stating that our sociological reasons for this practice

are extremely nuanced and multi-faceted. To her, the utterance of anothers words

transcends the bounds of signification and articulation, and she states that it is

unrealistic to stay with that thin model of language which sees it as at root referential

and cognitive, with quoting, together with poetic or allusive diction, separated off as

some special non-standard modification that needs justification.121

Certainly, there are numerous implicit reasons for incorporating the words or

ideas of others in ones daily speech, such as short-hand, humor, to lend authority, or to

119
Holloway, interview.
120
Ruth Finnegan, Why Do We Quote?: The Culture and History of Quotation (Cambridge: Open
Book Publishers, 2011) http://www.openbook publishers.com /reader/75 (accessed November 10, 2013),
9.1, paragraph 5. British English spellings retained in this quote.
121
Ibid., 9.3, paragraph 2.



195

imply the subtle and multiplicitous connotations carried by the quotations source. But

what of quotation in the arts generally, and music, specifically? As Reynolds begins at

the outset of the final chapter of Motives for Allusion: For allusions to become more

widely acknowledged, a theoretical background against which a motivic resemblance can

be understood to have an aesthetic significance must exist both in the culture of the

period and of our own time.122 Of course, he is referring to an attempt to interpret

borrowings in Romantic music, but the basic concept applies to the current discussion.

The idea of manipulating an ideas context is central to the practice of quotation, and this

high-level cognitive play might hold the key to artists perennial obsession with this

practice. As Reynolds also states, the importance of the link between allusion and play

is fundamental in any era, and that not the least of the game-like qualities of allusion is

the element of challenge it poses to its creator and perceivers alike.123

Perhaps this last sentiment summarizes my motivations for engaging in this

practice most succinctly. The challenges inherent in weaving complex symbolic

meanings out of borrowings, and the levels of recontextualization that are afforded the

composer in playing with symbols comprised of extant music is a stimulating

compositional enterprise. Whether these materials are on the surface in referential

allusions that can be juxtaposed to create complex rhetorical interactions, or are

perceptually occluded in various levels of clandestine usage, the importation of borrowed

materials presents the composer with another musical echelon in which to operate. The

benefits of engaging in musical borrowing in composing a new work seem, to this author,

to be numerous. Coupled with the facts that these practices allow composers to interface

122
Reynolds, 162.
123
Ibid., 163.



196

on a profound and personal level with music that they know and care deeply about, as

well as afford them the opportunity to infuse their customary musical language with

subtle overtones of another compositional technique, era, or exocultural tradition, these

factors seem to significantly recommend its usage.





CHAPTER 6

REMARKS ON AND ANALYSIS OF NECESSARY STEPS

I. Conception, Composition, and Analysis

In approaching the composition of Necessary Steps, I knew that I wanted to use

micro-quotation and clandestine quotation in a generative capacity. My decision to do

this was heavily influenced by the results of my previous experiments with this

technique, particularly in regards to Mosaique, Shant, Nancarrow Meditations,

Apollonian Echo, and to a lesser extent, Chopn, all of which I deemed successful works.

While composing Necessary Steps, I was also thinking about what had made these

quotation pieces work, and I came to the conclusion that intuitively drawing fragments

from sources with coherent self-similarity led to an inherent unity in the resulting

composition, as well as a certain aesthetic tint to the musical result that would not have

been present if I had simply composed a new work in my customary idiom. The

importation of materials, therefore, impacted my compositional process in interesting and

sometimes surprising ways, while also creating artificial limitations that channeled my

process in particular directions.

As a composer, I have found that having certain constraints present at the outset

of a new work actually has a positive effect on my process, a concept also alluded to by

Stravinsky. In his Poetics, he states, The more constraints one imposes, the more one

frees ones self from the chains and shackles of the spirit the arbitrariness of the

constraint serves only to obtain precision of execution.124 By having restrictions in

place, in this instance dictated by the imported materials, the composers mind is freed of


124
Stravinsky, 68.

197

198

certain considerations and is able to focus on other elements more completely without

being entirely concerned with every aspect of the musical parameters of the composition.

Necessary Steps (2014) involved significant pre-compositional planning. The

structure, characters, and timings of sections of the work were all predetermined, as were

the instrumentation and general textural plan. I also used Golden Section ratios to govern

aspects of the form, which is a proportion that I am always at least aware of, but do not

always necessarily adhere to in every compositional decision. I knew I wanted to

compose a work using hidden quotation and micro-quotation from a single source, but I

very carefully considered various pieces and repertoires for my borrowing. Because I

knew that I wanted the resulting music to have a particular aesthetic, I decided to confine

myself to works that were either cast in tertian harmony, or that at least used a significant

percentage of consonant materials. At certain points I considered and discarded music by

Steve Reich, Franz Liszt, Robert Schumann, and Richard Strauss, as well as popular

music by the bands Tool, Radiohead, and the electronica of Aphex Twin.

The decision to use John Coltranes Giant Steps was at least partially the result of

a conversation with a guitarist friend of mine. We were discussing that works role as a

benchmark for jazz improvisation and he expressed his opinion that being able to

effectively play over those changes was a sort of measuring stick of ones prowess as a

jazz improviser. I have never worked in a jazz idiom as a composer, although I always

enjoyed listening to jazz and even played a little bit as a percussionist, so I was initially a

bit unsure as to whether I had the aesthetic authority to borrow from that repertoire.

However, I reasoned that if I was really planning to use the materials in a hidden or

molecular fashion and did not intend to attach any referential import to them, my



199

relationship to the source music was really immaterial. And I remember thinking, Well,

I just love Giant Steps. Its such a great piece and I respect the music, so that gives me

license enough to work with it. For me, this compositional affirmation of the work and

accordant respect for its materials is a key factor in regards to assuming the authority for

musical borrowing. Leaving aside for the moment the interesting and innovative

harmonic patterns in the piece, Coltranes solos on the studio recording are fantastic. As I

became more familiar with the work by studying it as a possible reservoir for borrowed

materials, I was struck more and more by the solo itself, so I decided that, for the most

part, I would leave the head and chord changes alone and focus on the improvised solos.

At the time I was ignorant of the existence of David Demseys excellent

transcriptions of Coltranes 1959 recording sessions, so I undertook the task of

transcribing the solo myself, by ear. If I had not done this, however, I may not have

focused on the particular features that I did, or deployed the materials in precisely the

same way. The process I used to accomplish the transcription involved digitally slowing

down and looping passages while playing along at the piano until I felt I had obtained the

correct pitches and rhythms. This focused my ear on very short fragments of the solo and

also had the effect of presenting them to me as repetitive cells, which is how I ended up

using many of them in Necessary Steps. I had planned on the work being in a

Postminimal idiom anyway, but hearing snippets of the solo repeated in this fashion

while transcribing it may have subconsciously influenced my selection preferences when

building textures in the concerto.

The decision to make Necessary Steps into a trumpet concerto, rather than just an

orchestra piece or a concerto for another instrument, was something that I went back and



200

forth on several times. I initially composed the work as a trumpet concerto, with a C

trumpet soloist. Next, after completing a rough draft of the work and subsequently

making many edits and revisions which affected tempi, textures, and entire sections of

material, I decided that the work might better serve as a saxophone concerto. I reasoned

that this made sense, as the solo from Giant Steps is performed on the saxophone.

However, two factors impeded this. Firstly, while the general tessitura of the solo is quite

high, there are also mellow, lyrical low passages as well. These work well on the

trumpet, but would probably necessitate frequent changes between saxophones to

maintain comfortable tessituras for that instrument, and at certain points these passages

are juxtaposed quite closely. I wanted to avoid the logistical issue of having the

performer change instruments frequently, as it can be distracting, and also wanted to

avoid having to transpose certain passages that I had conceived of as being in a particular

register.

Secondly, parts of the solo just did not work as well for the saxophone. While I

could have recomposed these passages, they would not have had the same impact, nor

been able to serve the same role in the narrative of the piece. One example of this type of

situation is repeated note percussive passages, such as are encountered in the fast

portions of the first and third movements. While the saxophone is a versatile instrument

and could certainly play these passages, they work much better for the incisive

articulations available to brass instruments.



201

Ex. 6.1: Example of a percussive, incisive trumpet passage from Movement I of Necessary Steps.

The next iteration of the works orchestration, which I thankfully decided to

abandon after only reworking the last movement, was an attempt to distribute the melodic

content of the solo across the orchestra and create a purely orchestral piece. While it

wasan interesting exercise, the result was somewhat flat, and there was only so far that I

could rely on the orchestral trumpets to shoulder the burden of melodic presentation

without making the piece a de facto concerto grosso for the trumpet section. Additionally,

as the work was originally conceived as a concerto, much of the soloists material is

intricate, gymnastic, and ultimately too demanding to be reliably expected of the rank and

file members of an orchestra. I soon decided that this iteration of the piece was a failed

experiment and ceased working on the purely orchestral version.

This led me back to where I started, with a trumpet concerto, albeit significantly

altered from the previous versions, as throughout this process I had been editing,

reworking sections, and changing orchestrational features. One significant difference, for

instance, was that I decided to use a B-flat, rather than C trumpet for the soloist, as this is

the favored instrument of jazz trumpeters. I decided this was more apt for this work, for

the obvious reasons, and also could be considered a subtle stylistic allusion. Another

difference was the addition of melodic material throughout the work for the orchestral

trumpets in the final draft. During the time I was reworking Steps as a saxophone



202

concerto and orchestral piece, I realized that I had really only had the trumpets

participating in full brass section gestures, as I had originally wanted to reserve this

timbre mostly for the soloist, so I used these instruments more liberally in these

iterations. When I changed the orchestration back to a trumpet concerto in the final draft,

I carefully considered these new trumpet section passages and, while I removed many of

them, some of them made it into the finished work.

Ex. 6.2: Example of a trumpet passage added into the saxophone version that I decided to keep.
Movement I, rehearsal J, brass only.

Necessary Steps is cast in three movements, with the traditional concerto tempo

plan of fast-slow-fast, although the final movement has interjections of slow music. The

work is approximately fourteen minutes long, and uses an instrumentation of 2+picc-2-

2+bass-2, 4-2-2-1, hp, timp, 2 perc, strings (divisi in all parts, except bass), plus the B-

flat trumpet soloist, whose part ranges from a low G-sharp to high G in the third octave

above middle C, transposed. Some of the high-tessitura passages are marked as

optionally transposable. While the soloist is the focus for much of the work, there are



203

passages where other instruments, or textural/ensemble passages, are the primary means

of melodic presentation.

There are four main approaches of borrowing present in this work: 1) the use of

micro-quotation to build textures and melodic lines out of very short fragments of the

solo in Giant Steps; 2) the use of actual recognizable gestures from the solo; 3) the use of

particular stylistic features of Coltranes improvisation and bebop jazz, in imitation of the

original material but not necessarily drawn directly from it; and 4) the use of the chord

changes from the Coltrane, not in literal quotation, but as generative resources for large

scale harmonic plans in several parts of the concerto. Each of these methods of

importation have their own particular degree of impact on the composition and have

differing levels of perceivability. I took advantage of the variety of perceptibility of these

borrowing techniques by treating it as a musical parameter which I could freely

manipulate by employing each in turn. These compositional techniques will be discussed

after the following analysis of Necessary Steps, which focuses on other musical features.

The first movement, subtitled Initial Steps, is comprised of five main sections,

with a rhythmically free cadenza interpolated between the fourth and last. The

introductory slow section is characterized by static harmonies, relying heavily on the G

major triad, D and D-flat half- and fully-diminished seventh, and E-flat major seventh

harmonies in the strings. There is also a moment of quintal harmony near the end of the

section, but it quickly resolves back to a G major center through glissandi and retains the

common tone of B.



204

Fig. 6.1: Harmonic plan of the first minute and ten seconds of Necessary Steps, and diagrams of
pertinent harmonic structures.

The common pitches of D, then G and B-flat, then A-flat/G-sharp and D-flat/C-

sharp are used here to smoothly lead between structures that otherwise share few pitches.

The D-flat fully diminished seventh chord also has an ambiguity here in that it functions

as both the secondary diminished seven of the D, which precedes it, and as an A-sharp

diminished seventh chord, tonicizing the quintal B tetrachord which follows it. The half-

step togglings of the D half-diminished, E-flat major, and D-flat diminished seventh

chords are also allusions to the half-step ascent at the beginning of Coltranes famous

alteration of the turnarounds in Countdown, while the E-flat, G, and the B quintal

tetrachord allude to the chromatic thirds cycle present in the changes of Giant Steps.

Fig. 6.2: Coltrane changes in Giant Steps.

I7 (Coltrane Changes) ii7 V7/bVI bVI (Coltrane Changes) V7 I7


(V - I) (V - I) (V - I) (V - I)
B7 D7 G7 Bb7 Eb7 Am7 D7 G7 Bb7 Eb7 F#7 B7
PC:(E 7 3 7 3 E)

In the introduction to Necessary Steps, and indeed throughout the piece, both the

melodic presentation instruments and the harmonizing lines in the other parts arrive at

consonant notes through expressive chromaticism, often through the sixth and chromatic

seventh scale degrees of given scales, or through the tritone, mirroring these features

contained in the bebop scales, which is also a stylistic allusion to Giant Steps.



205

Ex. 6.3: Example of chromatic approach in Necessary Steps in the flute and clarinets, in measures
15-17.

Ex. 6.4: Dominant, Dorian/Minor, and Mixed Bebop Scales.

The harmonic patterns of the introduction of first movement are carried through

into the next main section at rehearsal A, although instead of sustained, static harmonies,

the G Major and D minor/diminished centers alternate more quickly and are arpeggiated,

with the G eventually becoming the center of tonal gravity. The textures in this section

are built from borrowed cells, whose origins will be discussed in the second part of this

chapter. For the moment it is only necessary to note the manner of their deployment, as

they are juxtaposed in rhythmic dissonance summation processes.125 This technique of

building sections from small, evolving repeated cells is ubiquitously employed

throughout the first and third movements of Steps, and is a core technique of my musical

language. After a few resets as the harmony toggles between G and D in measures 41-5,

the music locks into a G pitch center in measure 46 and the 4:5 rhythmic dissonance

process runs to completion at rehearsal B. Although the strings alone are presented in


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Rhythmic dissonance terminology derived from the scholarly writings of Harald Krebs, et al,
which have been previously discussed in chapter 4. His definitions of these terms will be assumed for the
rest of this essay.



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example 6.5, other instruments weave in and out of the texture as well, and also present

melodic material in counterpoint with the soloist.

Ex. 6.5: Measures 39-52 of Steps, strings only. 5- and 4-cycles begin in earnest in the third system.

At rehearsal B the harmonic focus shifts to E-flat major seventh, add nine, which

is again a member of a chromatic thirds cycle with G. The soloist is involved here in a

trio with the harp and drum-set, against a texture of strings and winds. This section is

also the first time the ide fixe is presented in the concerto, which is encountered later in

this movement, in the cadenza and the finale, and is also used in various guises in the

next two movements.

Ex. 6.6: First encounter with the ide fixe, in the solo trumpet (transposed to C), measures 52-9.



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By the end of this material, at measure 56, the harmonic focus shifts to center on

A-sharp/B-flat half-diminished seventh with the C-sharp/D-flat in the bass, which shares

the B-flat with the previous E-flat major seventh, with the other three notes moving by

half step. The harmonic underpinning then shifts again when the violins take over

melodic presentation at rehearsal C to the chromatic-third related G major seventh, flat-

nine, which shares the A-flat, and has the B-flat and D-flat move by step to B and D.

The next shift in harmony, at measure 65, is back to B flat, but this time it is a

major seventh, add eleven and thirteen, which creates an ambiguous situation, as it could

also be interpreted as a G minor seventh, add nine and thirteen, retaining as it does

pitches G and D, with A-flat, B, and F-sharp moving by step. However, the melodic

material clearly dictates goal-directed motion consistent with the major mode, so while

any ambiguity serves a connective role, the nature of the new harmonic focus is clear.

Fig. 6.3: Half-step and common tone harmonic relationships in measures 51-72.

In this passage bebop-sounding solo material is tossed back and forth between the soloist

and the orchestra, culminating in an additive scalar passage for the soloist and a

chromatically inflected cadence from D-flat half-diminished to G-flat.

The next macro-section of the movement begins at measure 84, with the orchestra

presenting the melodic material, and is at first centered around E-flat dominant seventh,

add nine. The harmonic underpinnings quickly change, however, as I apply common tone

and parsimonious/inversional processes. The B augmented, add nine, chord that I used in



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measures 90-92 includes the pitches of the chromatic thirds cycle in Giant Steps, which is

a totally unintentional, probably subconscious allusion to that work I was not aware of

when I composed it.

Fig. 6.4: Harmonic structures in measures 84-93.

The harmonic instability ceases at rehearsal E, where the key of E-flat/D-sharp

minor is established. This is not readily apparent, however, as I also heavily emphasize

the VI and III harmonies, making the mode ambiguous. The goal direction of the melodic

material in the trumpet as it reassumes the central role, however, clearly dispels any

doubts as to the minor mode of the passage. This subsection, from measure 101-116,

features prominent, incisive trumpet melodic presentation and generally adheres to D-

sharp minor. This passage is also another place where orchestral trumpet parts that I

added while playing with the orchestration of the work made it into the final iteration.

Ex. 6.7: Measures 104-13 of the first movement of Steps, brass section.



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(Ex. 6.7, contd)

The fourth macro-section, from rehearsal F, begins at approximately 345 into

the movement, which is four seconds away from its largest Golden Section ratio. There is

also a marked change in harmony, which begins to incorporate the A-flat dominant

seventh, in the roles of both Neapolitan pre-dominant and as a tritone substitution. The

winds also take on a greater role as presenters of melodic material here, which refers

back to the chromatic ascents through bebop scale patterns encountered at the beginning

of the movement. The strings take up a 5:4 grouping rhythmic dissonance process, which

then also incorporates a displacement dissonance between separate 4-patterns as one of

the five-patterns is truncated, out of phase. A permutation of the ide fixe is also

encountered in this section, with its intervallic content altered to fit into the changing

harmonies as it nears its climax.

Ex. 6.8: Strings and soloist at measure 119. Note two types of rhythmic dissonance present,
starting in 122.



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Ex. 6.9: Ide fixe, measures 137-43 (transposed to C).

After this material there is an orchestrational crescendo with a bebop-inspired

raucous drum solo, leading into the cadenza. I consciously chose to place the cadenza,

which is such an integral feature of a concerto, here at the small Golden Section of the

entire piece. 309.4 seconds is right in the middle of the cadenza, which is .382 of the

entire works duration. In this passage the soloist has free reign in articulation and some

freedom in the timing, as the meter is canceled. In addition to previously stated material,

including the ide fixe, as well as motives derived from previous themes, I employed

borrowed cells in this passage, deploying them in linear additive processes. The final

measure of the cadenza is back to tempo giusto, and a short accumulating tremolo

passage in the strings links it to the final section.

Ex. 6.10: Cadenza from the first movement of Steps.



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The last macro-section begins in measure 154 with a focus on the harmony of B

major seventh, add nine, and at first features the orchestra in a melodic presentation role.

The tonal center remains B for the remainder of the movement, with generally tonally

functional harmony underpinning arpeggios and additive linear processes. Before the

close of the movement, other references to the ide appear, first in the low strings, then

again in the soloists part.

Ex. 6.11: Ide fixe in the last macro-section of Initial Steps, first in the low strings in measures
159-62, then in the solo trumpet (here transposed to C), in measures 170-5.

The final section remains tonally stable through the conclusion, which cadences

on a B dominant seventh chord, whose root is approached by an E dominant sevenths

seventh sliding down through the major and minor sixths of that chord, whose seventh in

turn then slides down through the major and minor sixths to the fifth of the chord in a

gesture reminiscent of bebop scale voice-leading, as seen in example 6.16.



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Ex. 6.12: End of the first movement of Steps, brass and strings.

The second movement of Necessary Steps is subtitled Measured Steps, and


features a slow tempo of q = 56. Initially, I had conceived of a slightly brisker q = 72,

but as I worked with the musical materials, I decided that the slower tempo would

emphasize the harmonically static, rhythmically elastic, and lyrical quality of the music

more appropriately, as well as give the soloist a rest between the gymnastics of the outer

movements. This movement is through-composed, with no starkly contrasting sectional

delineations, although it is very tightly controlled in terms of its form and harmonic

pacing. Contrast is brought about by the slow accumulation of elements over long spans

of time, in a culminating forward-skewed arch form.

The harmonic structure of the movement is governed by two related

compositional processes. Firstly, the harmonic pattern was generated by the chord

changes in Giant Steps. This is not to say the harmonic pattern is quoted verbatim from



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the Coltrane, or is merely a slowed down version of it. It is rather a logical and consistent

substitution process for the original pattern resulted in the harmonic plan for this

movement. This will be discussed later in this chapter, in terms of the clandestine nature

of the allusion.

The second element of the harmonic plan originated from my initial use of the

Fibonacci sequence to determine the durations of the harmonic structures. The original

scheme started with the longest durations, starting from the ratios of either 34 or 21, and

spun down to the shortest three times before the movements climax, after which the

lengths began increasing according to the sequence through the end. I used the numbers

in the sequence as ratios, not actual enumerations of beats or clock time, so that for

instance if in the first arch 34 was equal to twenty seconds, 21 was equal to roughly

twelve, and so on. The next arch would use the ratios differently, such that 21 could

equal ten seconds, 13 roughly six, and so on.

Table. 6.1: Original ratio plan for harmonic motion in Measured Steps.

34 21 13 8 5 3 2
Bmi7 D7 Gmi7 Bb7 Ebmi7 A7 D7
21 13 8 5 3 2 1
Gmi7 Bb7 Ebmi7 F#7 Bmi7 F7 Bb7
21 13 8 5 3 2
Ebmi7 A7 D7 Gmi7 C#7 F#7
3 5 8 13 21 34
Bmi7 F7 Bb7 Ebmi7 C#7 F#7

I ultimately decided to abandon a strict usage of the sequence, as the aesthetic

result was different from my desired outcome. However, the general temporal shape

remained and affected my choices as I intuitively made changes to bring the structure

more into line with my compositional preferences. Although I eventually altered some of



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the harmonies, inserted repetitions of certain harmonic units, and changed some of the

timings to better fit what I wanted, this was all done in the context of altering the

structures generated by the Fibonacci sequence, so it seems apt to include a description of

the original plan in analyzing the final outcome. The remaining shape still results in a

large-scale, multi-tiered forward-skewed arch form, the crux of which not only contains

the one reference to the ide fixe in this movement, but is also located at precisely the

large Golden Section of the entire concerto, and only twelve seconds away from the large

Golden Section of this movement.

Fig. 6.5: Final harmonic plan of Measured Steps. Chr. = chromatic chord, tr. = triad.

Fig. 6.6: Diagram of the macro Golden Sections of Necessary Steps. Recall that the first
movements cadenza is located at the small section of the overall concerto.



215

Ex. 6.13: Crux of the arch form of Measured Steps. Note the presence of the distorted ide fixe
in the winds.

Another prominent feature of this movement is the multiple continuous separate

rhythmic planes which are inhabited by the piccolo, harp, and percussion, sometimes

independent of each other and the rest of the material, in some cases for the entire

movement. I specified that I wanted Tibetan prayer cymbals, but would be satisfied with

a large triangle, in the first percussion part for the archs ascent. I then have them switch

to drum set ride cymbal in the second part, stylistically alluding to the source material in

a subtle, but undeniably evocative fashion.

The harp and first percussion planes have metric interdependence in the upward

slope of the arch, displaced as they are by an eighth note in a running cycle of five

quarter notes. I set up a compositional rule that if eithers cycle initiation point occurred

when it was undesirable, I could off-set the percussion, but had to return to the pattern by

the beginning of the next cycle. I also decided that I could choose not to have the harp

sound when its rhythmic plane dictated, but then I would have to wait until the beginning

of the next cycle to use it again. I ended up employing these alterations sparingly, as the

result of the unadulterated process was aesthetically effective. This means that while

these two instruments operate according to their own independent metric scheme, there is



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still an intuitive but orderly interaction between them and the rest of the music.

Additionally, for the first 16 measures of the movement, the piccolo exists in a double

augmentation of this 5-cycle, although it is not arrayed in any additional rhythmic

displacement dissonance from the rest of the music, as the harp and percussion are.

The glockenspiel, which does not enter until right after rehearsal A on the

downbeat of measure 19, is not in a displacement dissonance related to the rest of the

music, but is arrayed in a quarter note 6-cycle grouping dissonance, which means that, at

this point, there are three rhythmic continuums running counter to the over-meter: the

harps quarter-note 5-cycle, first percussions eighth-note displaced 5-cycle, and the 6-

cycle grouping dissonance of the glockenspiel. After the climax of the arch form, the

harp takes up a displaced grouping dissonance 4-cycle and the glockenspiel plays its final

note at a coincidence if its pattern with the harps. The harp then begins skipping every

other cycle, while the first percussions cycle begins to break down, drifting freely

further and further from its correct placement until the conclusion of the movement.



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Fig. 6.7: Rhythmic cycles running counter to the over-meter in Measured Steps. Over-
meter is indicated underneath, with measure numbers and notches indicating quarter notes.

The third movement of Necessary Steps is subtitled Leaps. This is in reference

to both the gymnastic nature of the music and sudden shifts in mood and tempo which

are encountered in this movement, as well as the faster harmonic motion, compared to

the other two movements. The form of Leaps can be thought of as a modified five-part

rondo comprised of nested forms, with two related B sections in slower tempi, and a coda

that also functions as a coda for the entire concerto. A case can also be made that it is

actually a seven-part rondo, with the short orchestral interlude and bass clarinet solo of



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the digression in the central rounded binary or ternary A2 section actually functioning as

a C, with the resulting formal plan being A1B1A2CA3B2A4. It is a relatively short

passage, however, which might contraindicate this interpretation. In composing the

movement, I was thinking of the central A2section as one formal unit, but I recognize that

an argument can also be made for the seven-part interpretation.

Fig. 6.8: Formal plan of Leaps. Possible formal interpretation as seven-part also included,
below composers analysis.

After a short and ominously percussive introduction, the A1 section is fast and

built out of borrowed cells much like the fast arpeggiations in the first movement. This

binary section is constructed out of two related parts. The harmonic motion here takes

advantage of the same transformational processes and parsimonious voice-leading that I

used in the first movement, the main difference being that I cycle through the harmonies

much faster, sometimes changing harmonies as often as every beat. The opening B-flat

dominant seventh, add nine and eleven, moves smoothly into the G dominant seventh

four measures later, retaining the D and F, and approaching the B and G by half-step. The

G dominant seventh then toggles back and forth to the D half-diminished seventh, with

which it shares a similar relationship, before that chord becomes an E-flat dominant

seventh, add nine, for one measure, retaining the F and approaching the E-flat, G, and D-

flat by step. This is then transformed immediately into an F-sharp dominant seventh, add

nine, retaining pitches B-flat and D-flat, respelled as A-sharp and C-sharp, and

approaching the F-sharp, G-sharp, and E by step. This harmony then resolves back into



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E-flat two measures later, though this time the C-sharp moves by step to D, making it an

E-flat major seventh this time. The added nine and thirteen, however, initially create an

ambiguity as to whether this is E-flat or C minor, as these pitches are initially

emphasized in the clarinets, horns, and cellos, and could indicate a C minor seventh, add

nine, eleven. That it is indeed E-flat is confirmed quickly through melodic cues in the

soloists part, and is also suggested by its moving to B-flat in measure 24. This is another

point at which there is a harmonic toggle, as the B-flat major seventh, add nine, alternates

with A-flat major seventh, add nine, with the D and A moving by half-step to E-flat and

A-flat, and the B-flat and C retained in both harmonies.

Fig. 6.9: Harmonic structures from measure 11-24 of Leaps.

This passage also contains references to the ide fixe, presented first unchanged in

measures 17-18, then in the minor mode and echoed by the orchestra. The first

presentation in the soloists part is presaged by an imitation of the figure in the cellos, in

augmentation. The minor/diminished iteration is doubled by the orchestra and is echoed

by the flutes three beats later, which is echoed by the soloist in turn three and a half beats

after that.



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Ex. 6.14: Ide fixe in the first A section of Leaps, measures 14-18 and 24-8.

This passage leads directly into the B1 section of the movement, with the

expression marking Dark and warm and a drastically reduced tempo of q = 80. The

texture here is a reference to the previous movement, and I also employ related

compositional techniques in terms of the rhythms of the harp and percussion parts. The

percussionists are arrayed in grouping dissonance 3-cycles, quarter-note displaced from

each other. The harp operates in a 4-cycle, which is temporally compressed using



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quintuplets to create an artificial grouping dissonance in a ratio of 4:5. The percussionists

play for the final time at rhythmic process completion points of their 3-cycles in measures

37-8, and the harp stops playing at what would be its only rhythmic process completion

point, also in measure 38.

Ex. 6.15: First B section, with independent rhythmic cycles in the harp and percussion parts.

Fig. 6.10: Graph of rhythmic dissonance cycle patterns in the first B section of Leaps. Note that
rhythmic process completion points of the percussion processes align with the last time that they
play, and that what would be the harps only rhythmic process completion point is when it stops
playing.



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At the end of this section there is a brief, interruptive passage reminiscent of the

movements introduction, then the music launches into the rondos central A2 section. I

was thinking of the nested form in this passage as rounded binary or ternary, with a two-

part a section, a brief orchestral digression featuring a bass clarinet solo, then a return

to a with the focus on the trumpet soloist. The first part of the first a section

focuses on F major seventh, add nine, and features a 5:4 rhythmic grouping dissonance at

the sixteenth-note level between the violas and the rest of the orchestra. This process

does not quite come to completion, bleeding over to the second beat of the next section at

rehearsal D, where it would realign on beat two of that measure. I also created a brief

displacement dissonance here in the soloists part, which uses an eight-note off-set.

Ex. 6.16: Metric dissonance in the second A section of Leaps, measures 42-54, trumpet soloist
and strings.



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The second part of the first a section, from measures 55-62, focuses on the

harmony of D dominant seventh, add nine, retaining the C and A from the previous

section, while the F moves to F-sharp by step. This section features a metric grouping

dissonance between the basses, cellos, and trombones, with the second trombone and

cellos operating in a quarter-note 5-cycle, while the basses and first trombone operate in

a 4-cycle. The process comes to completion in measure 59, then two measures of

cadential material lead into the digression.

Ex. 6.17: Metric grouping dissonance in measures 55-67 of Leaps, brass and low strings.

After a short orchestral digression over A minor seventh, which retains the A and

C from the previous harmony and approaches the G by half-step, the return to the a

section of the rounded binary form occurs at measure 67, where the harmony changes to

B-flat major seventh, with every note being approached by half-step from the previous

chord. The soloists material here makes use of staggered 6:4 metric dissonances, freely

employed. This section also returns to the ide fixe, this time in its original triumphant

mode from the first movement, in measure 69, which then segues into the next macro B2

section.



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Ex. 6.18: Soloists 6:4 metric grouping dissonances and reference to the ide fixe, in measures 65-
76.

*May be played down an octave.

The harmonic structures of this central ritornello are tightly integrated through the

use of common tones and parsimonious voice leading. This provides smooth continuity

without the use of strong cadential tonal patterns, relying instead on third relations, both



225

chromatic and diatonic. The use of common tones and half-step motion make the

harmonic juxtapositions in this section sound logically connected and not as jarring as

they otherwise might. There are also chord changes where tones converge or diverge by

half-step, such as from measure 54-55, where F and G converge to F-sharp, and measure

71-72, where C-sharp diverges to C and D.

Fig. 6.11: Harmonic structures in the central A2 macro-section of Leaps.

Much like the first B section, its return references the textures and techniques of

the second movement, but the tempo is a little faster this time, only slowing to 100 beats-

per-minute. This faster tempo, coupled with the way the music smoothly accelerates back

to the fast section tempo of q = 120 at the end of the section, gives this iteration of the B

material a much more transitory nature. This was an intentional compositional decision,

with the purpose of propelling the music on its way to the conclusion of the piece. Once

again, the harp and percussion parts are imbued with rhythmic dissonance, operating on

continuous independent rhythmic planes separate from the rest of the meter. The harp

operates in a 6-cycle eighth-note grouping dissonance that is also displaced by a quarter



226

note, the triangle in a 7-cycle eighth-note grouping dissonance, seemingly displaced by

an eighth note, but actually just not sounding on its first down-beat in measure 78, and

the glockenspiel runs in a 5-cycle eighth-note grouping dissonance, also displaced by a

quarter note. This metric layering is even further complicated by the fact that these

patterns are juxtaposed against an over-meter of alternating units of six and eight quarter

notes, expressed as two-measure groups of 3/4 and 4/4 for convenience.

Ex. 6.19: Second macro B section in Leaps, q = 100.

Fig. 6.12: Graph of rhythmic dissonance cycles in this section and process completion points.

The final section of Leaps consists of a return to the A section tempo and

material, then a ramp-form coda, with the orchestra taking over the role of melodic



227

presentation at first. The soloist soon comes to the fore again, however, in a brief

accompanied duet with the drum-set in measure 99. In another allusion to the source

material, I composed out a six measure bebop-inspired drum solo, but stipulate that the

percussionist may choose to improvise something in that vein, if they so desire.

Ex. 6.20: Drum solo in accompanied duet with trumpet soloist, measures 99-105.

This section begins in measure 90, where there is an arpeggiated harmonic

alternation between C-sharp minor seventh and F-sharp dominant seventh, add nine,

which retain three common tones and one that changes by a half-step, between A-sharp

and B. However, the melodic materials emphasis on the pitches E and B creates

ambiguity as to the whether the mode of the passage is E major or C-sharp minor. This is

due to the fact that there are no dominant-tonic relationships in the harmonic structures

expressed by the strings and that the C-sharp minor seventh chord is reinterpretable as an

E major chord, add thirteen. These two harmonies are restated in different voicings

through measure 96, where a pedal reasserts the tonal center of C-sharp, which is

confirmed in measures 98-99, by a modal vmi7-imi7 cadence in the brass. The soloist



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also ascends to a high C-sharp through the major sixth and chromatic sevenths of the

bebop dominant scale, providing a B-sharp leading tone.

After only two measures of a reconfirmed C-sharp tonal center, the G-sharp flips

up a semitone to A-natural, which is also present in the viola ostinato in the first two

measures, and the soloist reasserts G-sharp, emphasizing A major seventh as the

harmony. This again implies an ambiguity between C-sharp and E, similar to that of the

previous section, as the dominant-tonic relationship between E and A might lend

credence to hearing it as in the major mode, after all. In measure 105, the tonal center

becomes a little more difficult to discern, as a C dominant seventh chord is first

encountered, then scalar material with B-flats, which seems to assert F major.

The C dominant seventh retains the E of the A major seventh, and all of the other

notes move by semi-tone into the new chord. While most of the ostinato and scalar

figures in the passage might lead one to hear it as centered on G Dorian, the real purpose

of this focus is to emphasize the G so that when the C dominant chord becomes the

harmonic focus in measure 108, it sounds like a point of arrival due to the dominant-tonic

relationship. With a few momentary neighbor-harmony diversions to A-flat major, this

focus on the harmony of C dominant seventh remains throughout the rest of the

movement, with several layers of rhythmic dissonance processes throughout the entire

orchestra animating the texture and adding to the tension of the ramp form. There is a

brief focus on the symmetrical harmony of C dominant seventh, flat five, then a final

cadence on F, eschewing long term tonal closure to finish a tritone away from the B

pedal of the first movement and opening harmony of the second, and a half-step away



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from the end of the second movement and beginning of the third, reemphasizing the ideas

of half-step motion and convergence found in much of the harmonic motion in this piece.

Fig. 6.13: Harmonic structures in the final sections of Leaps.

The passage from 105-8, which functions as a linkage to the ramped coda, also

contains the final reference to the ide fixe in the soloists part, timed so that its final

resolution lines up with the previously mentioned moment of arrival in measure 108.

Ex. 6.21: Final use of the ide fixe in Steps, right before the coda at the end of Leaps, measures
118-26.



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(Ex. 6.21, contd)

II. Clandestine Quotation and Micro-Quotation

While there were no systematic criteria for selecting which materials to draw

from Giant Steps, I did have some specific things in mind. I wanted to use molecules that

would not be so generic as to leave no trace of their features in the resulting music, but I

conversely definitely did not want Necessary Steps to sound jazz scored for orchestra.

Whether I have been successful in either of these pursuits is ultimately subjective, and

may even vary from listener to listener, but I think that I was moderately successful in

striking this balance. I also think that this piece is successful on its own intrinsic terms,

regardless of whether the listener is even aware that any allusion is happening. This is a

matter of great importance in this piece, as so many of the borrowings are hidden quite

assiduously. The transcription I made of the solo, from which musical examples are

drawn to show the quotations in Necessary Steps in this section of the chapter, can be

found in the appendix of this document.



231

The first corridor of borrowing that I will discuss here is that of micro-quotation,

which refers to the use of molecular materials from another work in building textures and

melodic patterns in a new composition. Rather than go through and catalogue every cell I

borrowed from Coltranes solo, I will simply provide a representative sampling of

examples of this type of use of the borrowed materials here. The reason for this survey-

style approach is that a full accounting of this practice, so ubiquitously used in this piece,

would be repetitive, and ultimately redundant. Additionally, as I was intuitively roving

back and forth through the solo, drawing cells from here and there, it is important to note

that many of these short patterns are repeated multiple times throughout. The fact that

there are duplications of materials over the course of the solo causes difficulty in

definitively saying in every case where a specific cell came from.

In the first section of the first movement, from measures 2-7 in the flute and oboe

solos, and again in the solo trumpet and oboe solos from measure 10-18, I borrow from

measures 10, 18, and 19 of Coltranes solo. The descending chromatic tuplet, followed

by an arpeggiated chord of 18 and 19, and measure 10s descending scalar/repeated first

note cell, lend their contours to much of the melodic material, transposed as needed to fit

the harmony. The idea of a chromatic rip up through three pitches to a goal note is also

prominently used, which is the first motive from the first part of measure 18 of

Coltranes solo, and is also a stylistic reference to the bebop dominant scale. For

instance, in measure 2, the flute solo uses the descending chromatic tuplet from

Coltranes measure 18, then an appended scalar/repeated note cell starting on G.



232

Ex. 6.22: Measures 1-7 and 10-18 of Initial Steps, winds and soloist.

Ex. 6.23: Measures 18-19 and 10 of Coltranes solo.

This free adaptation, transposition, and juxtaposition of various cells into longer

melodic patterns is a technique that I use throughout this work. The interval patterns from

the Coltrane are characteristic enough that they have a specific, coloristic effect on the

resulting music, and yet are generic, malleable, and molecular enough to prevent a sense

of outright referential quotation. The ide fixe of the concerto is another such melodic

usage of cells from the Coltrane. The motive results from a fusion of measures 109-10

with the ascent of beats three and four of measure 7 and descent measure 23, which are

also cells of the solo that I used in other places. Measures 7 and 23 map transpositionally

onto the ide, bolstering the logic for using it as an important feature in the concerto.

Ex. 6.24: Ide fixe of Necessary Steps and measures 7 and 23 from Coltranes solo.



233

Another example of this type of melodic micro-quotation can be found in the

cadenza of this movement, which draws from measures 10, 13, 18, 58-9, 90-1, 109, 118,

and 136 of Coltranes solo. Leading into the cadenza, the soloist plays two chordal

inversions of a transposition of the major-third/major-second/major-third cell at the end

of Coltranes measure 118. The next material is clearly an allusion to the material from

measure 18, but as this gesture is found all throughout his solo, its origins are non-

specific.

Ex. 6.25: First line of cadenza and micro-quotations from measures 118 and 18 of Coltranes solo.

The next gesture is a linear additive process, culminating in an inversion of

Coltranes measure 10, following a pattern of down a major seventh, up a minor second,

and so on. This is followed by material drawn from measures 58-9 of the solo, transposed

and with the first note up an octave. The last beat of 58 and the first two of 59 are

repeated, then the first beat of 58 is presented in retrograde chromatic inversion on E-flat.

Ex. 6.26: Second line of cadenza, mirror of measure 10, and other micro-quotations.

The third line of the cadenza presents a linear additive process culminating in an

unadulterated reference to beat two of 136 through the first of 137, then alludes to

measure 13 of Coltranes solo, repeating the whole measure twice. The fourth line then

begins with material from measures 90 and 91 which are somewhat unique gestures in the

solo, as they traverse the range of the instrument in a more temporally compressed

manner than in the rest of the improvisation, using tuplets and sixteenth notes. I chose to


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present the material as grace-note runs to reflect this, allowing the performer to play them

as fast as possible, representing the original materials temporal relationship to the rest of

Coltranes solo. The cadenza finishes with a statement of the ide fixe, another reference

to measure 18 from the Coltrane, then the ide again.

Ex. 6.27: Third and fourth lines of the cadenza.

The second movement also contains numerous melodic clandestine allusions and

micro-quotations. Focusing specifically on the trumpet part in the beginning of the

movement, many of the melodic cells here are drawn directly from the Coltrane, though

sometimes rhythmically manipulated or transposed to suit my compositional preferences.

The prominent repeating piccolo/flute gesture here is a rhythmic compression of a cell

from the solo, derived from the last two beats of measure 2, transposed up a major sixth

and altered in mode from major to minor.

Ex. 6.28: Piccolo gesture in thesecond movement and measure 2 of the solo.

The soloists first gesture is an ornamented rhythmic expansion of measure 14 of

Coltranes solo, also altered in mode. The next gesture is drawn from the first two beats

of the second measure of the solo, likewise altered. Measure 6s gesture is a similar

alteration of the second two beats of the measure 2 of the solo, and the following gesture

in measures 7-8 is a rhythmic expansion of the same cell, with an extension. In measure


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9, I started with a five note cell from measure 73 of Coltranes solo, although it is really

just a minor scale, so therefore is a very generic borrowing. The gestures in measures 12-

13 are rhythmic distortions of the end of measure 2 and the beginning of measure 3 of the

solo, the second of which is transposed down by a major second, followed by a modal

alteration of measure 28. Measure 14 borrows from measure 25 of the Coltrane, which I

then sequenced down. The sixteenth notes in measure 14 come from beat three of

measure 38 of his solo, and measures 16 and 17 are a rhythmic distortion of Coltranes

measure 169, beat three. After repeating the last two notes of this as sixteenth notes I then

present his entire measure 170 in rhythmic distortion. My measure 22 has references to

Coltranes measure 12-13, and measure 25-7 fragments a borrowing from his measure 58.

Ex. 6.29: Melodic clandestine quotation in the solo trumpet part in the beginning of Measured
Steps. When a specific part of the measure was used, the beat is indicated by b.



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I continue with similar borrowing techniques throughout the entire movement.

The ending of the movement also has references to measure 18 of the solo, with its

chromatic grace-note ornament to a long note and chromatic descent, other modified cells

from the Coltrane, and also the same material that the ide fixe is derived from. The

technique I used in this part of the movement was more in line with the chromatic

insertion method of connecting borrowed material, as I freely interposed newly composed

music between the cells, intuitively weaving them into the melodies.

Ex. 6.30: Ending of Measured Steps, solo trumpet, measure 38 through the end, and borrowed
cells.

A prominent example of melodic micro-quotation in the third movement is

located in the introduction, where the trumpet and melodic lines in the strings make use

of interlocked cells borrowed from Coltranes solo. As previously mentioned, the subtitle

Leaps refers to several musical features of this movement, but I also incorporated this

concept into my quotational practices here, leaping back and forth through the solo in

wider spans than in the previous movements. The cells from the solo are initially drawn

from measures 70 through 72, with a brief allusion to 83 and 101, but then I leap back to

63, 18, and 36, then back to the 70s. The way in which I deployed the borrowed materials

for most of this movement is similar to the way I used them at the end of the second



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movement, taking the cells as starting points and freely composing new music to connect

them.

Ex. 6.31: Beginning of Leaps and pertinent cells from Coltranes solo.

I did not limit my use of micro-quotation to the creation of melodic material in

Necessary Steps, but also borrowed cells from Coltranes solo for use in the composition

of Postminimalist repetitive pulse patterns to provide middle- and background materials



238

and textures. Once such a pattern was constructed, I often manipulated the resulting

harmonies with the typical Neo-Riemannian, common-tone, and half-step parsimonious

voice-leading processes discussed in the first half of this chapter. Sometimes this would

involve transforming the textures built from Coltranes cells into new materials, but in

many cases the textures move between multiple different patterns based on the Giant

Steps cells, or sometimes even juxtapose multiple cells simultaneously. I also allowed

myself free transposition of the cells, as well as their inversional rotation and pitch-class

octave presentation, as I wanted to retain the higher degree of compositional finesse that

control over these parameters would afford me. I also sometimes changed the mode of

cells that outlined particular harmonies, if I desired a certain aesthetic, rhetorical result

that would be better served by such an alteration. By allowing for such a high degree of

manipulation of the borrowed materials in my compositional process, I set up the

conditions under which the provenance of these materials might be extremely occluded,

in keeping with the idea of clandestine quotation.

An example of this cellular texture building can be found at the outset of the fast

music in the first movement, beginning at rehearsal A. Almost all of the textures in this

section are elaborations of sequential borrowings from a passage starting at measure 6 of

Coltranes solo, but because his solo here focuses primarily on the upper extensions of

the chords of the changes, the harmonic pattern that results is not the same as that of

Giant Steps. In example 6.46, each new repeating textural cell encountered in this part of

the movement is compared with its source in the Coltrane. The pitches of the cells are

rotated to create longer repeating cells which are juxtaposed against the four note cells to

achieve grouping dissonance cycles.



239

Ex. 6.32: Textural cells drawn from Giant Steps, in Initial Steps, measure 6-7.

M. 35-8, cell from m. 6, beat 1-2.

M. 39-42, cell in m. 41 from m. 6, beat 3-4, with octave replication of the D to obtain a 5-cycle.

M. 49-52, cell in m. 51 from m. 7, beat 1-2, with octave replication of the E-flat to obtain 9-cycle.



240

(Ex. 6.32, contd)

M. 53-6, cell in m. 56 from m. 7, beat 3-4, lower octave replication of C-sharp to obtain 5-cycle.
in the first violins. Note the previous 9-cycle coming to completion in the first 2 beats of m. 55
and locking back into the eight-cycle underneath it.

At measure 61 two new cells are directly juxtaposed without grouping dissonance,

and even as they are both occurring at the same time, the upper cell is also being

presented in double augmentation in the cellos. This simplification of the simultaneous

metric streams was intentional, as I wanted the melodic presentation of newly composed

material in the upper strings to be clear. Although the cells appear to be different, they are

both drawn from the same gesture in the Coltrane, which occurs in measure 106, as well

as at other points in the solo. I changed the B-flat to B-natural and transposed it up an

octave in one of the two related cells.

Ex. 6.33: Measure 106 of the solo and measures 61-64 of Initial Steps.



241

At measure 65 I use the cell from the second half of measure 106 in the middle

strings and flutes to create a spinning, articulated texture, brought about by the presence

of the repeated note that occurs as this cell is looped. I also start to interject one of the

previous cells as a continuation of the repeating-note cell in the flutes, this time

transposed to start on F. The use of these cells and their various permutations continues

through the next section, as they are varied and juxtaposed against newly-composed

music.

Ex. 6.34: Measure 106 of the solo and measures 64-8 of Initial Steps, strings and winds.

Another section in this movement where I use borrowed cells to build textures

takes place at rehearsal E, where I create shimmering interlocking scalar textures out of

cells from Coltranes solo. While these materials are fairly generic, they were

nevertheless extracted from the solo and their specific interval patterns have ramifications



242

on the resultant music. The motive in the oboes comes from the third and fourth beat of

measure 24 of the solo, at first altered to be in a minor mode and transposed down a

minor third. The descending scale, followed by descending third and fourth, is drawn

from the same spot, but continues through the first note of measure 25, transposed down

a minor second relative to measure 24. This material is presented mostly in line with the

over- meter in the flutes and clarinets during this section, while the strings and oboes

present it in 5-, 9-, and 10-cycles, later joined by the piccolo.

Ex. 6.35: Measures 24-25 of Coltranes solo, and measures 109-13 of Initial Steps, strings and
winds.

Similarly, the texture that I used for the last section of the first movement, coming

out of the cadenza, makes use of a transposition and minor mode alteration of the first

two beats of measure 6 of Coltranes solo. Again, this material is just an arpeggiated



243

triad, so is quite generic, but the voicing of the chord is maintained. I then manipulated

the harmonic motion by changing tones through parsimonious voice-leading, through the

end of the movement.

Ex. 6.36: Measure 6 from Coltranes solo and 152-5 of Initial Steps, strings only.

The second movement does not employ cells from the Coltrane in this fashion,

instead using different features of the work to generate textures and harmonies, which

will be discussed shortly. The last movement, however, uses this technique extensively.

The previously discussed melodic use of the motivic cells is continued into the repeated

pulse pattern texture passages, like the one beginning in measure 15. Here I also used

measures 6-7 of Coltranes solo, at first alternating between the two patterns in 6, with

the first note of the first gesture transposed to G, then switching to the E-flat scale/third

patterns in measure 17. In measure 18, I borrow a slightly altered and transposed version

of measures 135-6, fragmented and distributed in 4-, 6-, and 8-cycles.



244

Ex. 6.37: Measures 14-18 of Leaps, strings only, and measures 6-7 and 135-6 of the solo.

Similarly, the textures in the passage from 44-78 are comprised of borrowed cells

from 146-170, then 7, 45, and 82 of the solo, although many of them are altered in regard

to interval quality and mode, occluding the references significantly. The cell used at

measure 44 is a tritone transposition of the first two beats of measure 146 of the solo, and

the one used at rehearsal D is a combination of the cell of the first two beats of measure

152 of the solo, transposed a fourth, and the first two of measure 170, transposed a major

third.

Ex. 6.38: Measures 44-54 of Leaps, strings only, and micro-quotation sources. The textural
patterns are also included in various other instruments throughout.

M. 42-6 of Leaps, new cell starting at m. 44.

M. 146 of Coltranes solo, beats one and two (trans. down a fourth).



245

(Ex. 6.38 contd)

M. 47-54 of Leaps, new cell starting at D.

M. 152, beats one and two (trans. up major third), and m. 179 of Coltranes solo (beats 1-2 trans.
up major third).

This is interconnected through the referenced material with the next cell at measure 55,

which alludes to beats three and four of the same measure, 170, also transposed a major

third. Measure 62 leaps back to beats one and two of measure 7 of the Coltrane, with an

altered interval quality pattern, and appended repetition of notes at the octave to create

rhythmic dissonance cycles

Ex. 6.39: Measures 55-64 of Leaps, strings only, and micro-quotation sources.

M. 55-9 of Leaps, new cell starting at m. 55.

M. 170 of Coltranes solo (beats 2-3 trans. up major third).



246

(Ex. 6.39, contd)

M. 60-4 of Leaps, new cell from Coltranes m. 7 starting m. 62.

M. 7 of Coltranes solo (beats 2-3, all but E trans. down a minor second).

At rehearsal E I used a cell from the first and second beats of measure 45, verbatim, again

duplicating and appending tones at the octave to create rhythmic grouping dissonance

cycles.

Ex. 6.40: Measures 65-68 of Leaps, strings only, and micro-quotation source.

M. 65-68 of Leaps, new cell starting at reh. E.

M. 45 of Coltranes solo (beats 1-2, verbatim).

Measure 70 then alludes to the first two beats of measure 82, transposed a minor third,

and with the second note raised by a half-step.



247

Ex. 6.41: Measures 69-71 of Leaps, strings only, and micro-quotation source.

M. 69-71 of Leaps, new cell starting at m. 70.

M. 82 of Coltranes solo (beats 1-2, second note raised by half-step and cell trans. a minor third).

As can be seen here, the combination of micro-quotation of generic patterns, and

manipulated and occluded through clandestine quotation, allows for a selective and

nuanced way of dealing with borrowed materials. At certain points, when quoting

verbatim, the molecular nature of the materials creates ambiguity as to their origins,

while at others the nature of the borrowing is hidden by manipulation of the materials.

However, in most cases at least their basic shapes are retained, and often their specific

interval content remains and substantially influences the character of the resultant music,

both melodically and harmonically.

There are very few quotations in Necessary Steps that are readily identifiable as

such, but there are a few moments of note, when materials from the solo come to the fore,

or the bebop idiom is explicitly referenced overtly. One such instance occurs in the first

movement, where there fragments from measures 9-11 of the solo are passed about the

orchestra, and do not conform to the prevailing tonal center or sounding harmony. This

passage, from measure 68 through 72, even has an expression indication for the soloist to

play against the grain, bebop feel.




248

Ex. 6.42: Bebop fragments in measures 68-72 of Initial Steps, winds and soloist, and their
sources in Coltranes solo, measures 9-11.

Likewise, the previously mentioned allusion to measure 13 of the solo in the

cadenza is quite specific, repeating a seven note pattern twice, in the original rhythm,

almost verbatim. Also, the material referenced in the woodwinds in measures 124 and

127 of the first movement retain a strong resemblance to their origins in Coltranes solo,

and might be recognized by an acute listener who was familiar with the source material.

Ex. 6.43: Measures 124 and 127 in Initial Steps, winds only, and pertinent measures from
Coltranes solo, 63 and 10.



249

This grace-note ornament, approaching a high note through the sixth and

chromatic sevenths below it as encountered in measure 124 in the previous example, is so

pervasive in the concerto that it deserves mention here, as it is also a prominent musical

feature of Coltranes solo. It is like-wise a stylistic feature of bebop jazz generally, as this

gesture is contained in the bebop dominant scale. The repeated use of drum set gestures

throughout the concerto is also stylistically referential to the idiom, reflecting different

aspects of the way this instrument is used in bebop or jazz in general, sometimes

soloistically and sometimes presenting characteristic accompaniment patterns.

Ex. 6.44: Moments of Steps where the drum set references bebop and jazz idioms.



250

The final corridor of borrowing discussed here is the use of the chord changes of

Giant Steps to derive the harmonic plan of the second movement of Necessary Steps. I

wanted to use the chords in some capacity, but again, I wanted to obscure the source of

my borrowing through some consistent system that would alter the nature of the

harmonies, making their origins difficult to divine. I decided that I would take the root

pattern of the chord changes, but I would alter the qualities of the chords systematically.

Since this was the slow movement of the concerto, I decided that I wanted to devise a

system that would prefer creating minor seventh chords and also minimize the creation of

dominant seventh chords, as this is one of the most common types encountered in the

Coltrane and such a prominent feature of jazz harmony, and thus the least in line with the

clandestine nature of what I was trying to do. In one sixteen bar cycle of the solo, there

are ten major seventh chords, ten dominant seventh chords, and six minor seventh chords.

I came up with a simple substitution pattern, basing minor seventh and add nine chords

on the roots of major seventh chords, major seventh and add nine chords on the roots of

dominant seventh chords, and dominant seventh and add nine chords on the roots of

minor seventh chords, thus maximizing the number of minor seventh chords and

minimizing the number of dominant sevenths.

Fig. 6.14: Seventh chord substitution pattern used in Measured Steps.

I had originally also transposed the pattern down a major third, so that the overall

harmonic emphasis was on G minor, but later abandoned this key, as B gave better



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priority to the instrumental tessituras I wished to utilize. The substitution plan also

drained the harmonic structure of its reliance on chromatic third tonics, without entirely

abandoning this root pattern. It also produced chord patterns that were not diatonic to the

emphasis-created pitch center of B minor and created fifth relations between non-

dominant seventh chords and their relative tonics. In addition to abandoning the use of

the Fibonacci sequence in the final iteration of the movement, I opted to deviate in a very

limited capacity from this harmonic plan for aesthetic reasons. I chose to repeat the B

minor seventh and D major seventh chords at the beginning of the movement and to

repeat the next B-flat major seventh and E-flat minor seventh pattern. I changed the B-

flat to a major seventh the second time, the next B-flat major seventh to B natural major

seventh, and altered the final B major seventh into a highly chromatic structure which is

still centered on B.

Table 6.2: Deviations from the original ratios in the harmonic plan of Measured Steps, italicized
pairs of chords repeated and underlined chords chromatically altered.

34 21 13 8 5 3 2
Ebmi7,
(Bmi7 D7) Gmi7 (Bb7 2nd A7 D7
time)
21 13 8 5 3 2 1
Gmi7 B7 Ebmi7 F#7 Bmi7 F7 Bb7
21 13 8 5 3 2
Ebmi7 A7 D7 Gmi7 C#7 F#7
3 5 8 13 21 34
B chr. F7 Bb7 Ebmi7 C#7 F#7

Thus, while sounding very little like the original chord changes from Giant Steps,

the harmonic pattern of Measured Steps is derived directly and systematically from its

basic shape, with a few minor alterations resulting from my compositional choices and



252

aesthetic preferences. Additionally, the extreme dilation of sixteen measures into three

and a half minutes of music contributes to the listeners perception of these structures as a

series of tonal centers and not as a chord progression.

After having engaged in such clandestine quotational practices in the usage of

borrowings from Coltranes Giant Steps, one might ask why I chose to reference his work

in the title and the subtitles of the movements. The decision to use these titles did come

after the composition of the works first iteration, not before. I decided that I did want to

acknowledge the source material in some way, even after going to such pains to hide the

borrowings, if not as an apology, then at least a sort of a restitution for the music that I

had appropriated so liberally.

In a final accounting, however, I strongly believe that there are two factors which

I can point to which may justify my liberal borrowings in this work and others. One, I

firmly believe that one artist can take ownership of anothers work through a sort of tacit

affirmation of that musics worth, a kind of transcendental yes on the part of the

borrowing composer to the implicit question posed by the earlier piece. Second, as Robin

Holloway so eloquently put it in our interview, quoting anothers music isnt stealing if

you pay for it.126 By this he meant that, in the manner of their deployment and the

quality of the new music against which they are juxtaposed, the borrowing composer

ought to bring just as much to the new composition as the borrowed materials. I think that

I have done that in Necessary Steps, and that the diminished perceivability of the

borrowed materials through the use of clandestine and micro-quotation, in relation to the

newly composed music and artfulness of its occlusion, strengthens this argument


126
Holloway, interview.



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considerably. And perhaps I ought not to be overly concerned as to justifying the

legitimacy of my quotational practices. In closing, it seems appropriate to refer to T.S.

Eliots ideas on the practice, laid out in The Sacred Wood:

Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and
good poets make it into something better, or at least something different. The
good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different
from that from which it was torn; the bad poet throws it into something which has
no cohesion. A good poet will usually borrow from authors remote in time, or
alien in language, or diverse in interest.127

In his summation of this idea, of course, Igor Stravinsky was much more concise:

A good composer does not imitate; he steals.


127
T. S. Eliot, The Sacred Wood: Essays on Poetry and Criticism (London: Methuen, 1920), 114.





CHAPTER 7

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PETER JAMES LEARNS TRANSCRIPTION OF

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