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About the Author

Dr. Rudolph Reti, a musician-critic par excel-

lence, was a respected composer and pianist as well
as an important theorist.
He was born in Serbia, reared in Vienna, and
received his doctorate from the University of
Vienna. After undertaking a career as a concert
pianist, he turned to composition and music criti-
cism, and for many years was chief music critic of
a daily newspaper. In 1922 he helped found the
International Society for Contemporary Music.
In 1939 he came to the United States. At about
the same time, he embarked on a fresh study of
the creative process, disowning all but two or three
of his earlier compositions and virtually abandon-
ing composing for the next eleven years.
In 1951, he and his wife Jean, a noted concert
pianist, moved to Montclair, New Jersey, where,
until his death in 1959, he was to produce a num-
ber of major musical works which he felt would
stand the test of his concept of pantonality.
RUDOLPH RETI
 ~3 ctp\

GJKo:
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M V_y Vl/U

LIER BOOKS
NEW YORK, NLY.
Tonality in Modern Music originally appeared under the title

Tonality, Atonality, Pantonality

This Collier Books edition is published by arrangement with The

Macmillan Company

Collier Books is a division of The Crowell-Collier Publishing

Company

First Collier Books Edition 1962

© by Jean Reti 1958

First published 1958 by Rockliff Publishing Corporation
Revised edition 1960 published by Barrie & Rockliff
Hecho en los E.E.U.U.
Printed in the United States of America
This book is dedicated to the generation of
young musicians today; for only through their
creative interpretation can it attain its true
meaning
Author's Preface

The following study was written within a few months.

But content developed as the result of almost a life-
its

time's search. Thus a few words about the idea which

motivated the search may be justified.
This book is meant as a plea and stimulation for that
part of the contemporary compositional endeavour which
is outspokenly "modern" in style, perhaps even radically
modern, yet at the same time attempts to retain and renew
the vitality of expression and human appeal that always
characterized great music. In this sense the book may find
itself somewhat in opposition to compositional manifesta-

tions derived from the concept of atonality and some tech-

niques affiliated with it. But it will also, and perhaps even
more strongly, be in opposition to those contrary tenden-
cies that seek a solution in aesthetic eclecticism, in the
necessarily futile attempt to fill old shells with artistic life.
Instead, the book will set up an artistic goal of its own,
neither tied to the rigidity of a new structural scheme, nor
directed towards musical formations of the past. Though,
therefore, the impulse behind the following deductions is
an aesthetic and spiritual one, the presentation of this im-
pulse may often inevitably assume a technical character.
However, the reader will understand that the technical
terms are merely formulations through which in the musi-
cian's vernacular the artistic and human ideas, which are
the real issue in this study, can be more accurately de-
scribed.
There is still one point which should be stressed from
the outset, in order to avoid any misunderstanding. Al-
though it is the purpose of this study to describe the evolu-
tion of certain principles in contemporary music, the fol-
lowing presentation will have to use works of individual
composers to demonstrate these principles. Yet it should
be understood that these composers are not introduced and
discussed for their own sake as it were, that is, in order to
evaluate their general artistic achievement, but only in so

7
 8 / Author's Preface

far as their work points to certain specific trends, the de-

scription ofwhich is the goal of our explanations. Thus, if
for instance a composer of the artistic magnitude of Stra-
winsky is discussed only with respect to one compositional
aspect, the rhythmical, this does not imply that his creative
significance is considered to be limited to this one sphere.
Neither is any aesthetic evaluation intended if many widely
acclaimed composers of today are mentioned only in pass-
ing or are not mentioned at all. This book does not pur-
port to give a picture of the modern musical scene, but
merely to demonstrate one of its specific trends, a trend
which, moreover, only now begins to assume some clearly
perceptible silhouette. Only what seemed to the author to
—
be pertinent to this specific evolution and he is well
aware that even so his endeavour must remain very in-
—
complete was included in the analysis.
Contents

Author's Preface 7
The Problem Summarized 17

PART ONE
Tonality

1 Harmonic Tonality 25
2 Melodic Tonality 32
The Experiment of Twofold Tonality 33
3 The Tonality of Debussy 36

PART TWO
Atonality

1 Schoenberg's Search for a New Style 51

2 Composition with Twelve Tones 60
3 Twelve-Tone Technique in Evolution 67

PART THREE
Pantonality

Bitonalityand Polytonality 77
Fluctuating Harmonies 80
Moving Tonics 84
Specific Facets of Pantonality 88
Consonance and Dissonance 88
Tonality through Pitches 95
A-Rhythm and Pan-Rhythm 98
Pantonality and Form 108
The Evolution of "Colour" in Music 119
The Electronic Wonder 123
 10 / Contents

4 The Role of Pantonality as a General Synthesis 127

The Great Structural Dilemma of Contem-
porary Music 131

Aesthetic Epilogue

1 Romantic Anti-Romanticism 143

2 Each Time Engenders its Art —Art Generates
the Time 147
The Ivory Tower 149

Musical Illustrations 155

Acknowledgments 185

Index 187
Musical Illustrations

Ex. 1 Melodic Tonality 155

Ex. 2 The Tonality of Debussy 156

Ex. 3 Emerging Tonal Complexity 158

Ex. 4 Schoenberg's Twelve-Tone Technique 159

Ex. 5. The Twelve-Tone Technique of Alban Berg 160

Two Contrasting Structural Types: 164

Ex. 6 I Bela Bartok 164

Ex. 7 II Anton Webern 166

Ex. 8 A Rhythmical Pattern from Strawinsky 168

Ex. 9 Hindemith's Polyrhythm 169

Ex. 10 Charles Ives 170

Ex. 11 Pierre Boulez' A-Thematic Serial Structure 174

Ex. 12 Benjamin Britten's "Tonal Multitonality" 175

Ex. 13 Aaron Copland 177

Ex. 14 Andre Jolivet 178

Ex. 15 Rudolph Reti 181

 TWELVE-TONE OR TWELVE-NOTE

The term "Twelve-note" was used in Orpheus in New

Guises by Erwin Stein (Rockliff, 1953) in the passages
translated by Hans Keller and in Composition with Twelve
Notes by Josef Rufer translated by Humphrey Searle
(Rockliff, 1954).
"Twelve-tone" is used in this book because that is how
the late Rudolph Reti wrote it and an alteration through-
out without the knowledge of the author might in some in-
stances have implied shades of meaning which were not
the author's, particularly in view of the main title of this
work, which is being published simultaneously on both
sides of the Atlantic.
—The Publisher
Tonality in Modern Music
The Problem Summarized

Around the turn of the century the physical sciences,

as is generally known, underwent an extraordinary change.
Alfred North Whitehead, for instance, speaks repeatedly of
the tremendous impression this great and almost sudden
change made on his mind and views. About 1880 the laws
of physics, as they were known then, seemed to represent
something like an eternal truth, definitely established for
all time. What remained to be done, said Whitehead,

seemed to be merely the co-ordinating of a few newly dis-

covered phenomena with the basic Newtonian principles.
Then "by the middle of the 1890's there were a few trem-
ors, a slight shiver as of all not being quite secure, but no
one sensed what was coming. By 1900 the Newtonian
physics were demolished, done for!" x However, even if
the actual force of the old laws seemed to have vanished,
their usefulness and validity within their own realm did
not by any means disappear entirely. In fact, one main
goal of modern physics seems to be centred on the en-
deavour to comprise and unify the old and new principles
in one all-comprehensive law or formula.
The whole process, which is especially conspicuous in
physics due to the paramount importance physical dis-
coveries have assumed with regard to our material way of
life, can also be observed in many other spheres, for in-

stance in the psychological, the social and the political do-

main, and even in the arts, and particularly in music.
It is well known, not only to the musician but to every
musical listener, that the whole set of principles which lay,
consciously or instinctively, at the basis of all music from
the so-called classic and romantic period (roughly speak-
ing the period from Bach to Brahms and Wagner) began
to crumble, as far as the compositional practice was con-
cerned, in the 1880's or 90's. Consequently, the music of
x Lucien Price, Dialogues with Alfred North Whitehead, Little
Brown, 1954.
17
 18 / Tonality in Modern Music
the twentieth century, the so-called modern music, is in its
whole concept of not only different from but in some
style
respects fundamentally opposed to that of the preceding
centuries. This fundamental change was felt in almost all
the various spheres through which the composer expresses
himself, such as the melodic and rhythmic shaping, the
thematic construction, the architectural patterns, even the
instrumentation. But the most conspicuous, the most in-
cisive change took place in the realm of harmony or, since
harmony may in this connection be a slightly inaccurate
term (and we shall return to this later), in what by a more
comprehensive technical term is referred to as tonality.
Tonality, during its undisputed reign of several cen-
turies, was so taken for granted and became so entrenched
in the musician's mind as the natural, the "eternal" con-
cept of musical construction that when, because of its

overlong use (and finally abuse) itsabandonment became

inevitable, the first slight signs of such an abandonment
shocked the musical world to the core. From this fact a
peculiar misnomer in terminology resulted —a misnomer
of fairly far-reaching consequences; namely that to all
music that did not fit into the customary and sanctified
concept of tonality, the term atonality was applied. This
term, however, was —at least at that time —a gross exag-
geration. And today we would certainly not call atonal the
music of, for instance, Strauss, Reger or Mahler, for which
the term was originally often used, nor that of their French
contemporaries, Debussy or Satie. Yet the term became
generally accepted and although we would in our time dis-
criminate more carefully between atonality in a specific,
concrete sense and atonality as a general and vague idea,
there is, even today, much confusion prevalent regarding
this subject.
But there were more serious consequences involved than
merely inaccurate terminology.
The abandonment of tonality, which in the beginning
was but a slight deviation, became stronger and more vi-
olent year by year until in the so-called twelve-tone music
even a learnable technique seemed to have been provided
through which pure atonality, if one so wished, could be
 The Problem Summarized / 19
2
maintained in music. The adherents of this trend towards
outright atonality soon proclaimed their principles as the
only valid ones, by setting up a kind of doctrine, a formula
of evolution somewhat like this: "Harmonic concepts in
our epoch gradually progress from a governed and con-
ditioned state, that is tonality, to a free and unconditioned
state, that is atonality, is in between repre-
while all that
sents merely a timid attempt to approach the beckoning
goal, which can only be pure and genuine atonality."
Strangely enough, the composers who did not submit to
the atonal lure —
and they still constitute the majority
nevertheless were swayed by this doctrine of the atonalists.
Although from an aesthetic point of view they naturally
rejected the idea that music of rank had to be in the ex-
treme atonal vein, they nevertheless, misled perhaps by the
prevailing terminology, accepted tonality and atonality as
the only contrasting possibilities of musical formation. The
situation, they thought, left no room for any further al-
ternative: tonality stands at one end of the road, atonality
at the other —
other states are more or less stages be-
all

—
tween the two extremes. Yet and this is the decisive
point of that theory —
there is only one, single road.
—
An alluring scheme however, musical reality is not as
simple as this. For atonality, that is, abandonment of and
liberationfrom traditional concepts, was only the one, the
negative side of the development. But beside this libera-
tion, something far more vital, something far more radical
was in the making: a third concept, as different from to-
nality as it is from atonality, but no less different from the
intermediary states, such as extended tonality, modality,
polytonality and the like. Indeed, looking at the musical
development of the last half century we realize, as it were
in retrospect, that from the very time when tonality began
to be loosened and was finally abandoned, the evolution
2 That was the innermost idea and purpose of the twelve-tone
this
technique uncontradictably proved through numerous remarks
is
and directions of its inventor (notwithstanding that he avoided
the term atonality) —
even though later adherents of the technique,
significantly, tried to compromise by allowing tonal features, as
"licences," to slip back into the atonal scheme. (We shall return
to this later.)
 20 / Tonality in Modern Music
worked in two opposite directions. One trend worked away
from tonality towards atonality, as indicated above. But
another trend, which also left classical tonality behind,
tended towards another goal, different from and almost
opposite to atonality. No specific name has as yet been in-
troduced for the state towards which this trend pointed.
All we can say in trying to give a rough indication of the
idea in question (later we shall describe it more con-
cretely) is that it is an endeavor to develop patterns of
new tonalities belonging to a higher cycle, tonalities of a
hitherto undefined nature —although in using these terms,
which in the musician's mind are connected with certain
specific phenomena, we run the risk initially of being mis-
understood. If, moreover, we suggest pantonality 3 as a lin-
guistic symbol for this new concept, we do it with some
hesitation, for pantonality has appeared sporadically in
some even though used there in a
treatises as a term,
vague, casual way, without any concrete meaning attached
to it. In fact, it has sometimes been confused with its out-
right opposite: "atonality."
Nevertheless, pantonality in the specific sense as intro-
duced here seems the only fitting designation, considering
the three great categories which are to be presented in the
following pages as the successive states of harmonic-
structural expression during the last centuries. First tonal-
ity, in which music was rigidly tied to relationships derived

from the natural phenomenon of the overtone series. From

here, over extended tonality and related intermediary
stages, the evolution moved in two opposite directions: one
road leading to atonality, which cut these ties and thus,
when carried to fulfilment, produced a state of outright
non-relationship; the other road aiming at pantonality,
which on a higher plane and with a new type of composi-
and
tional formation develops the idea inherent in tonality,
in the wake of which a whole complex of new technical
devices will be seen to emerge —
indeed, even a new con-
cept of harmony itself.

3 Pan of course, the ancient Greek word for "all" or "whole."

is,

But thereis a meaning of universality, of totality, attached to pan,

somewhat beyond that of "all."

 The Problem Summarized / 21

To describe these stages and, in particular, the twofold,

divergent directions which made the music of our age
strive towards two contrasting goals, and to suggest how
tonality and atonality may finally perhaps be led to a syn-
thesis through the rallying power of pantonality is the pur-
pose of this study.
 PART ONE
TONALITY

The purpose of this study, as indicated in

the foregoing pages, is an inquiry into a the-
oretically explored structural concept
little
<{ ,i
for which has been chosen as
pantonality
the technical term. Yet, it will be unavoid-
able to trace the hidden origin of the new
concept first within the realm of those well-
known musical provinces: tonality and ato-
nality. Here the reader is begged to follow
our deductions with some patience, even if
for a few pages the presentation may seem to
repeat long-known facts, and perhaps as-
sume almost a touch of the classroom study.
We trust he will soon realize that some seem-
ingly elementary phenomena may appear in
a different light, if interpreted with a view
towards their changed application in a new
musical style.
Chapter 1

Harmonic Tonality
The term tonality seems to have been introduced into
music by the Belgian composer and musicologist Joseph
Fetis around the middle of the nineteenth century. It was
meant to signify a musical state, which had for several
centuries already been in general use, according to which
a musical group is conceived (by the composer as well as
the listener) as a unit related to, and so to speak derived
from, a central tonal fundament, the tonic. This tonal fun-
dament is understood as one note, or, in a more compre-
hensive sense, as the full triad-harmony of a note, be it
major or minor. In fact, the word tonality was probably
chosen merely as a linguistically pleasant abbreviation of
tonicality (thus also presaging atonality instead of the
tongue-twisting atonicality).
To remember this verbal origin is not without import-
ance. For, because people were tempted to use the simpler
expression, the meaning of the term often became in later
explanations vague, if not distorted. Tonality, according to
such semantic uncertainty, was frequently thought to be
rooted in relationship to a tone rather than a tonic, in con-
sequence of which the later term atonality becomes, of
course, almost meaningless. In other definitions tonality
and atonality were described as denoting the congruence
or discongruence of a musical group with an underlying
scale — the tonic then simply being the beginning, the end
or an important note of the scale, without reference to the
gravitational, almost magical attraction by which a true
tonic holds a musical utterance together and thus endows
it with the quality of a group, with "form." All these are

more than questions of pure terminology. For owing to the

far-reaching role theory plays in the understanding of our
art, musical terms direct, clarify and sometimes confuse
our conceptions of the musical phenomena and may to a
certain extent even influence compositional trends.

25
 26 / Tonality in Modern Music
a tonical fundament exerts a certain form-building force,
this force can be observed in two directions: vertically and
horizontally.
Vertically a note becomes a tonic by combining it with
its closer overtones to a chord, a harmony. Classical music 1
used these overtone harmonies almost exclusively, that is
triads, chords of the seventh and ninth and their inver-
sions. The picture was however greatly expanded and en-
riched through innumerable devices, such as suspensions,
anticipations, passing notes and alterations of all kinds.
Yet all these secondary harmonic constructions, through
which the available stock of sound combinations was ex-
tended far beyond the standard harmonies, were theoreti-
cally conceived and had historically come into practical
use only as deviations, as "exceptions" from the basic, the
"true" harmonies —
although these exceptions often became
more numerous than the so to speak normal harmonies.
Originally these exceptions, these "harmonies outside the
harmonies" had as dissonances (i.e. as combinations
outside the overtone series) to be prepared and re-
solved according to certain rules. In the course of time,
however, their constant use made them quite acceptable
to the ear, and as preparation and resolution were no
longer considered obligatory they frequently became per-
fectly legitimate harmonic entities in their own right. It
cannot be the task of this study to elaborate in detail on
this subject which is well known to every trained musician
and can easily be retraced in any textbook on harmony.
The horizontal working of the tonical phenomena that
we call tonality is similarly rooted in the relationship of a
note to some of its overtones. If a note (for instance, G)
progresses horizontally to another note (C), in relation to
which the former is its second overtone, the progression

appears to the ear as a very compelling, definite step, as if

towards a resolution, an end. 2 This feeling of definitive-

1 The term classical music is here and in the following pages often
used in a summarizing way to denote the music of the classical
period proper, plus the romantic and even post-romantic period.
2 The first overtone, the octave, being almost identical with the

fundamental note, does not have this effect.

 Tonality / 27
if we add the re-
ness, of resolution, is greatly intensified
spective overtones also vertically to thetwo notes, that is,
if the progression takes place not only from note to note

but from harmony to harmony; for instance, the triad on

—
G progresses to a triad on C (V I). The B in the G
chord resolves then as the "leading note" to the neighbour-
ing C. Together with the powerful urge of the fundamental
G (the dominant) towards the C (the tonic), the progres-
sion assumes the quality of a resolution, of a dissonance
moving towards a goal, the consonance. The dissonant
quality of the dominant is naturally intensified if we use
the chord of the seventh or even the ninth rather than the
simple triad.
At this point, the following question may call for con-
sideration: why is it that fifths and thirds appear to the ear
as consonances while sevenths are already felt to be dis-
sonances, though in the overtone series they follow im-
mediately after the thirds?
Much has been said and written about this problem,
both from an acoustical and from a musical angle (these are
not necessarily identical). Viewed from the musical aspect,
it seems to this writer that the ear will always be inclined

to understand any combination of two or more simultane-

ously sounding notes as a dissonance, // there is a more
consonant combination in the immediate neighbourhood
into which the dissonance can be resolved, so to speak, as
a suspension. Thus, since in the immediate neighbourhood
of fifths and thirds there are no stronger consonances to
be found, fifths and thirds cannot be resolved and are
therefore always felt to be consonances. 3 But the (minor)
3 To beexact: (perfect) fifths can never be resolved. But a third
isoften resolved into a fourth; namely when this fourth is through
the context understood as the inversion of a fifth, as in the pro-
gression of the leading note to the tonic. Vice versa, a true fourth,
being a dissonance, is resolved into a third as when I \ moves to
the dominant.
The question put to the author whether the above is not contra-
dicted by the fact that under certain circumstances a fifth can be
resolved into a sixth, must be dismissed with the statement that
a fifth may often progress to a sixth but never be resolved in it.
Just as even a third can progress to a second, without anyone
feeling such a progression to be a resolution.
 28 / Tonality in Modern Music
seventh lies beside the consonant sixth (inversion of the
and the ear is therefore ready to conceive it, as it
third)
were, as a "wrongly intonated sixth," a suspension, which
should be resolved.
Returning to the progression V— I, we see why it has
that compelling effect, why it creates tonality and through
this also can create "form" in music. For, in the sense
described above, I —V—
I is not conceived merely as a
succession of single chords, but as a unit, as a minute
piece of music. As a piece of music, but not yet as a "com-
position," since the unity is not brought about by a com-
bination thought out by the creative mind, but by an
inherent acoustic phenomenon of relationship between a
note and its overtones. In order to state I I, it was —V—
merely necessary to discover this natural phenomenon.
The human, the creative factor enters only when I does
not progress to V
but to some other melodic-harmonic en-
tity — —
we may call it x and then the compelling effect of
the dominant-tonic relationship is used to lead the whole
series back to the tonic. I x —V—
I (x can be a chord or
a series of chords) is already the scheme of a real com-
position, formed by Man. In fact, the scheme I x —V—
symbolizes, though naturally in a very summarizing way,
the harmonic course of any composition from the classical
period. 4 This x, usually appearing as a progression of
chords, as a whole series, constitutes, as it were, the actual
"music" within the scheme, which through the annexed
formula V—
I, is made into a unit, a group, or even a
whole piece.
4 In this general scheme there is an individual case which deserves

special mention: when x

represents IV, so that the formula reads
I— — V—
IV I. —
For I IV
is in itself a (transposed) expression of

V— I. Therefore, at the moment that I —

IV is sounded, the ear
may easily accept it as an end in itself, a dominant resolved to its
tonic (I being the dominant, IV the tonic). When however there-
after I —IV is followed by V—
I, and thus I is reestablished as the

true tonic, this creates a still stronger effect and the irresistibility
of the restored tonality, indeed tonicality, becomes an almost ex-
citing phenomenon. Accordingly it is only natural that this effect
was used to the utmost. In the whole of classical literature IV
almost invariably appears in one form or another within that part
of the scheme for which x stands.
 Tonality / 29

Now it is —
and this is
particularly important to realize
the reason why was here described in
the whole matter
—
such detail that the only step in the scheme which is a
"natural," an overtone phenomenon, i.e. which as such
—
produces the effect of tonality, is the step V I, or con-
versely I — V. All other progressions, that is, all chord
series symbolized in the scheme by x, are the composer's
free invention and do not in themselves express tonality
(although through tradition many of them have become in
the course of time, formulas, cliches). Thus V —
I is not
merely the archetype but in fact the only progression which
has the absolute and tonical quality. But if C progresses
for instance to (CD —D— —
G C), then C D, a simple—
and common step though it is, already represents a free
melodic progression. There is no compelling acoustic rea-
son why D rather than any other note should be chosen.
—
C D is in a sense already an "atonal" step, which only
—
by the subsequent G C becomes a part of a wider tonal
(tonical) unit. Similarly, as indicated above, any other
harmony or harmonic group inserted in place of x can,
when followed by V—
I, become part of a tonical whole.
All this does not mean that any harmony inserted as x
will in closeness of relationship have an effect equal to II.
D, especially if harmonized as a minor triad, naturally fits
much more smoothly into the tonality of C, than for in-
stance does F-sharp. Also A (VI) is a similarly close
harmony, as it differs merely by one note from I. Thus all
harmonies rooted in and composed of the notes of the
diatonic scale represent a series of harmonies more close,
more akin to I than any others. Accordingly, these har-
monies from the diatonic scale are frequently classified as
constituting the actual compass of tonality. 5 However, it is

5 This also accounts for

the fact that frequently in theoretical ex-
planations scales are presented as the prime elements from which
tonality and the whole complex of melodic and harmonic con-
struction are derived and are to be understood. Scales, however,
are not musical realities but theoretical abstractions, and as such
are themselves derived from melodies and harmonies, not vice
versa. In recent treatises on ancient and primitive folklore (and
often on modern music) the tendency has become especially
strong to base the technical investigation mainly on underlying
 30 / Tonality in Modern Music
very seldom that one finds in classical literature a piece
of music, even one of a simple character, which confines
itself to these basic harmonies. For, as hinted above, the
harmonic variety and complexity of classical music is
chiefly centred on the more or less interesting and elabo-
rate way in which x is worked out.
There is one further device, about which a few words
must be added. Within the framework of the series of har-
monies which are represented by x, secondary dominant-
tonic (and tonic-dominant) relationships can also be
brought into being, which nevertheless do not destroy the
overall tonicality of the group, if followed by the original
V— I. In I — —VI—V—
III I, for instance, the progression
III —VI is a V—
in itself I phenomenon. Yet by being
understood as a part of the wider whole, the single chords
simultaneously retain their roles as III and VI. And the
same effect can be obtained, even more effectively, if the
notes are not simply harmonized, according to the diatonic
scheme, but independently: for instance, III (in the key
of C) not harmonized as E minor but as a major triad or
chord of the seventh. This is noteworthy because E G- —
—
sharp B is from the academic concept of key doctrine
outside the scheme. Yet, as is proved by the whole litera-
ture, this chord is quite common in C major.
And going one step farther: not only the notes of the
diatonic scale but any of the twelve chromatic notes can
be and are widely used in classical literature for similar
harmonic concatenations. They will always appear to the
listener as a part of the wider tonical unit, though older
textbooks described them invariably as "extraneous," as
"modulations" outside the basic tonality. Indeed, through
these harmonies, which Schenker and Schoenberg called
secondary or intermediary dominants or tonics (Neben-

scales, from which the whole music of the particular realm was
supposed to have been developed. As a working hypothesis such
methods are sometimes useful. But it is dangerous to take the
hypothesis too literally and to forget that scales are derived from
music, not music from scales.
 Tonality / 31

dominanteri) the wide harmonic range and variety of

,

6
classical music was largely brought about.
As was to be expected, these secondary harmonies
finally became in the course of time entities in their own
right and were no longer necessarily followed by their
—
(secondary) tonics although through this, the terms sec-
ondary dominant and secondary tonic retained more of a
symbolic than a practical meaning.
But in view of the later evolution the core of the whole
matter is that in this way almost all harmonies could
gradually be included in the tonical unit. This means, of
course, that the textbook scheme of tonality and key had
by then already vanished and become theoretical fiction.
Indeed, the increasingly frequent use of such complicated
and independent intermediary harmonies brought music,
at about the time of Wagner's Tristan, to a stage where
the borderline of classical tonality was almost surpassed.
The "system" began to tremble and today has practically
withered away. Yet one cannot forget the riches, the won-
ders, unsurpassed in the whole history of music, that were
produced within the system during the approximately
three centuries of its dominance. Finally, however, even
empires crumble, one age is replaced by another.
In brief, we realize that classical tonality was in essence
centred on the overtone phenomenon. Therefore, as its
tonical effect is rooted in harmony and harmonic progres-
sion, we may call this type of tonality harmonic tonality.
However, there are also other types of tonality to be
found in music, which are indeed different types, not
merely expansions of the classical type. These different
types to which we may now turn have so far never been
described in musical analysis. And with this we approach
our actual subject.
6 The emphasis on the nature of these harmonies as "intermediary

dominants" within one tonically united whole, rather than as

modulations or modulatory deviations, as they were usually classi-
fied in previous treatises, is one of Schenker's contributions (see
Heinrich Schenker's Neue musikalische Theorien und Phantasien) .

It greatly helped to classify and simplify the harmonic picture of

a large body of literature. From a more advanced point of obser-
vation however the matter is one of terminology.
Chapter 2

Melodic Tonality

How classical, that is harmonic, tonality was developed,

expanded and even abandoned in certain spheres of mod-
ern music, will be described later. But modern music also
grew from a development and expansion of another type
of tonality —
a tonal concept traceable far back in history
and which is entirely different from the classical type de-
scribed in the foregoing pages.
In Ex. la* a sample of the various forms of the Chant
is given, on which the Jews of Babylon still recite certain
Biblical texts. The science of comparative music teaches
us that tunes like this may be taken as a fairly accurate
example of some types of music which the ancient Israel-
ites themselves used in their ritual. This musical realm is
also of interest to us, as it is well known that the Grego-
rian Chant (and through it, indirectly, essential parts of
our whole occidental melodic concept) were influenced by
the music of the Synagogue. Of course, whether the exam-
ple quoted is absolutely identical with the ancient melody
cannot be fully ascertained, neither as to tempo, dynamics,
rhythm (if there was any), nor even as to the exact pitch
of the notes. However, since the principle of the phe-
nomenon to which our interest is directed does not depend
on these details, we may well use this tune as a basis for
our examination, as it represents one of the not too nu-
merous examples of truly old music and provides an
illustration of the idea to be demonstrated.
In listening to this melodic shape, what strikes us as a
main characteristic of its structure is that its notes are
held together by a force which would seem to be very
similar to that which we call tonality. The E represents a
central melodic point, a kind of tonic, and the whole line

* Musical illustrations begin on p. 155.

32
 Tonality / 33

is to be understood as a musical unit mainly through its

relationship to this basic note.

However, it is equally clear that this is not the same

sort of tonality encountered in classical music. (Today we

might be inclined, at least for part of the line, to think of
the E as the dominant —though this, too, remains vague.)
At any rate, the existence of tonality and the
two types of
differencebetween them become apparent and can even
be demonstrated through a kind of experiment.

The Experiment of Twofold Tonality

Examining melody once more, we notice the
this old
fact that we can any point interrupt the line and still
at
bring it to a reasonable close on the E (see Ex. lb). (The
reader is asked to check this by actually listening to all
features here described.) But if one were to apply the
same method to a classical melody (see Ex. lc) a strange
result would emerge. In the classical melody we see cer-
tain points (marked x) from which closing to the tonic
(F) is almost inevitable, others (marked ®) from which
it is possible yet not obligatory, but still others (marked

o) from which it is impossible, that is, illogical, unless we

want to destroy the innermost sense of the whole line.
The reason for this phenomenon, readily understand-
able to every musician, is that the second melody is from
its very root built as a unit of a strict harmonic-rhythmic
pattern. Wherever a closing to the tonic would counteract
this idea, a close would be senseless. The first melody, on
the other hand, does not show such rigid construction.
Here the only tie consists in the fact that the line, notwith-
standing its persuasive grouping, is in essence composed
as a melodic unit that maintains a continuous relationship
to the E, to which it always points. As long as this rela-
tionship remains alive in one's ear, the line may even be
varied and expanded at will without abandoning its tonical
quality.
Thus we realize that there are at least two types of
tonality (tonicality) in music. One
based on the har-
is

monic and rhythmical structure of the group in question.

 34 / Tonality in Modern Music
We called this tonality harmonic tonality. It is the familiar
tonality of classical music.
But there is also the other type just described, that is
manifested through melody only. We shall henceforth re-
fer to this type as melodic tonality. 1
The existence of two different types of tonality, if true,
would seem to be a fact of such significance that it could
change some aspects of our musical outlook, not only re-
garding past periods but perhaps no less regarding the
present evolution. Therefore, to the attempt we have just
made to prove the phenomenon empirically by experi-
ment, we may now add some historical observations.
First, there is the fact that became so puzzlingly clear
a century or so ago, when Europe began to turn her atten-
tion to those various kinds of oriental and "exotic" melo-
dies of which the Biblical tune quoted above is only one
small example —
the fact that these melodies not only do
not need a harmonic accompaniment but actually resist
harmonization. When musicians thought that by endowing
these melodies with "nice" harmonies they would sound
all the more persuasive to the European listener, their

attempts invariably proved to be failures. In fact, it was

often technically impossible to force these melodies into
the strait jacket of the then current harmonies without
changing notes and phrases, in the process of which their
whole nature was falsified and their flavour and beauty
evaporated.
In addition to this, and complementing it, a glance at
music history teaches us that melodies of the other, the
"harmonic" type of tonality could in no way become a
considerable part of the general musical production until
the harmonic concept (rather than the contrapuntal) had
become dominant in music. This is the very reason why
we called this type harmonic tonality.
1The author is well aware that from a strictly musicological point
of view it would be necessary to examine many more examples
like the one quoted, before something definite about the nature
of this type of tonality could be said. However, since the purpose
of this study is not a scientific inquiry into old folklore, the one
example may suffice to demonstrate the fact of a tonical phenom-
enon that is so different from its classical parallel.
 Tonality / 35

Thus if between two types of melodies, which both re-

volve around a tonical centre, the one resists harmoniza-
tion, while the other came into wider use only with the
introduction of harmony, this would seem to be a clear
proof of the existence of two different kinds of tonality.
And it is only logical that the tunes of the "melodic" type
vanished from the picture the moment harmonic tonality
became the dominant concept in music and that they
could not reappear until harmonic tonality was aban-
doned. This abandonment took place only towards the
end of the last century, that is,with the advent of modern
music. It is therefore natural that then also the idea of
melodic tonality re-emerged. How this actually happened
and in what way shapes of the melodic type of tonality
were finally integrated into the rich harmonic and poly-
phonic design of our musical era will be shown in the
following pages.
 Chapter 3

The Tonality of Debussy

A point which must be realized with regard to the fore-

going explanations is that the example quoted from the
Biblical Chant does not by any means represent an iso-
lated, exceptional case. Rather a majority of old tunes,
and not only Jewish tunes, were shaped according to this
same concept of tonality so different from the later classi-
cal type. However, at the same time it should be under-
stood that not all old tunes were shaped according to this
principle. Every once in a while there emerge in old folk-
lore, and especially in early popular European music,
tunes pointing to a kind of modern major or minor key,
with a clear intimation of a dominant and a leading note.
Musicology, although referring to these facts, has unfor-
tunately never gone thoroughly into that whole complex
of problems. Confining itself in great part to an inquiry on
scales, it has never examined in sufficient detail all the
implications of tonality in old music. And by "tonality" we
mean here that quasi-magnetic force through which a mu-
sical line is held together and made into a group of rela-
tionships between its single parts, which may revolve
around each other or around some tonical centre. Such an
examination would probably disclose various types of
tonality, even beyond the two types indicated in our
previous deductions. 1
This whole question is of all the more interest today, as
the Gregorian Chant (itself the source from which our
own occidental music sprang) grew mainly from those old
oriental tunes and perhaps their Mediterranean deriva-

1 Naturally, there have been quite a few inquiries about tonality

in old folklore (for instance by Curt Sachs and others), but they
invariably deal with "tonality" as a phenomenon resulting from
tonic-dominant relationships, without taking into consideration the
existence of several types of tonality, that is, tonality as described
above as a "gravitational" form-building force.
36
 Tonality / 37

With regard to the Gregorian Chant

tives. itself, it should
be more thoroughly investigated whether and if so,
also —
in which sense and manner —
some of its focal notes, such
as the beginnings, endings, and other melodic resting
points of the recitative, represent tonics in an inner, phe-
nomenological sense of the term or merely corner notes
which traditional practice and theory had developed. If
some of them actually are tonics, they must to a great ex-
tent be regarded as expressing a kind of melodic tonality.
For most of the Gregorian tunes, though homophonic,
show clearly that the idea of the dominant-tonic effect was,
even latently, alien to their nature.
However this may be, when around the turn of the
millennium polyphony was introduced, enriching the Gre-
gorian lines, it was natural and inevitable that the first

sound combinations were those of the overtone series

2
(fifths or, if sung in inversion, fourths and later thirds
and sixths). This means that harmonic tonality was, at
least vertically, now introduced into music. Horizontally,
however, the dominant-tonic effect was still not yet dis-
covered or intentionally avoided, 3 and the lines continued
for a long time to adhere to the character of the Grego-
rian Chant, that is, to melodic tonicality (if tonicality at
all). Only much later was the effect of the dominant, the
leading note and the whole harmonic state related to it,
developed. This development, as indicated previously, was,
and could not but be, coincidental with the rise of the
concept of harmony as an autonomous phenomenon, while
before that rise, chords were more or less understood as
the result of lines sounding simultaneously. At any rate,
at the time of Couperin, Buxtehude and Bach, harmonic
tonality was already in full bloom and was even theoreti-

2 "Later" refers only to art music, for singing in parallel thirds

seems to have been an established custom in old northern folklore.
3 But there is the significant document Sumer is icumen
in from
the thirteenth century which seems to point clearly to the
dominant-tonic concept. However, this and other problems con-
nected with the first centuries of polyphony have not been, and
perhaps never will be, fully clarified, (cf. Dom Anselm Hughes'
elucidating chapter "The Birth of Polyphony" in the New Oxford
History of Music, vol. II.)
 38 / Tonality in Modern Music
cally confirmed by Rameau. From then on it reigned un-
contested for almost three centuries, so much so that
during that period composers as well as theoreticians
frequently regarded it as the only natural, indeed, as the
external basis of compositional formation. When it finally
became so over-exploited that the musician's mind and
ear irresistibly reached for something new, this develop-
ment took very different shape in two different orbits, the
French and the German.
In Germany Wagner's Tristan was given to the musical
world. Whatever one's aesthetic attitude towards Wagner
may be, the prophetic quality of his harmonic structure,
particularly as realized in Tristan, cannot be questioned.
Indeed, his harmonic vision reaches farther into the future
than that of his immediate successors. Here for the first
time the enduring validity of the old harmonic "system"
was not only challenged but, what in art is so much more
effective, creatively disproved. Wagner's successors con-
tributed further to the change which Wagner had so effec-
tively initiated. For instance, Strauss' Elektra and Salome,
as well as some parts of his Symphonic Poems, represent
perfect examples of a new tonal state, which might prop-
erly be called expanded tonality. When this music was
first heard it was considered revolutionary, indeed destruc-
tive. The professionals viewed it as a departure from all
laws of harmony and form, as a complete break with the
musical past. Today we realize that its overall harmonic
—
and architectural picture one is conditioned by the other
— is still firmly based on the classical cadence, that is, on

harmonic tonality, even though the detail of its texture is

laden with series of passing chords, harmonic deviations
and free key relationships between the single groups. Yet,
as indicated before, in its deeper harmonic essence Tristan
often seems newer than Strauss' or Mahler's music. Never-
theless, the departure from the classical system had at that
time already progressed a long way and when, a few years
later, Arnold Schoenberg tried to proceed still farther in
the same direction, there seemed to be only one thing left
— the very thing which he actually did —
namely, to
abandon tonality entirely and to assay patterns of music
 Tonality / 39
without any tonical relationship, that is, atonality. About
this more will be said later. For the present we may turn
to quite a different musical world.
For while all this was happening in Germany, another
development was taking shape on the opposite side of the
Rhine, a development which also departed from and fi-
nally gave up classical tonality, but which was centred on
a quite different principle. The French development was
almost entirely the work of one man, of Claude Debussy.
Debussy chose to replace classical tonality with some-
thing that would do away with the harmonic limitations of
the preceding period yet retain the spirit of tonality as a
form-building force. And to this end he did no less than to
introduce, to re-introduce, melodic tonality into music.
Debussy, as a young man, spent some time in Russia,
and it is known that some music by Moussorgsky with
which he became acquainted made a great impression on
him. The most characteristic parts of Moussorgsky's music
are flavoured with old Russian folklore and thus, like al-
most all old folk music, are conceived in some form of
melodic tonality. Returning to France and starting his own
compositional career, Debussy felt his musical ideal in
strong opposition to the German tradition which then
dominated the musical world. He is said to have listened
eagerly to old French and perhaps Spanish and Basque
folk tunes, though the question of his concrete sources and
of a possible connection of his own music with them has
not really been clarified. However this may be, the melo-
dies with which he adorned his miraculous, new compo-
sitions were very different from those of the German
sphere. A melody by Beethoven, Brahms or Wagner may
often be enlivened by chromaticism, modulatory deviations
and passing notes of all kinds. But its kernel, its inner con-
tour as it were, is still invariably conceived according to a
latent idea of a harmonic cadence. But Debussy's melodies
are not centred on the concept of the classical cadence, on
the dominant-tonic effect with its leading note. Yet — and
this is the core of this most interesting phenomenon there
are always tonics sounding through, that is, focal points on
which the melodic shape hinges. If we try to find the secret
 40 / Tonality in Modern Music
of this effect we come to realize that these are tonics of
the melodic, not of the harmonic type.
Before going into this problem further, we may return
for a moment to our previous example illustrating melodic
tonality, the Biblical tune. We recognized as its main tonal
characteristic the fact that one could reasonably bring the
melody to a conclusion on the tonic from any point of its
course, without the help of any dominant or any other
overtone element, simply through its own innate melodic
impulse. But the possibilities for shaping musical entities
go even further in this realm. As the reader may easily
find out by paraphrasing the tune, any note of the tune can
be made to become a new tonic, merely by accentuating it,
dwelling on it, that is, by an appropriate phrasing. Indeed,
the flexibility of this melodic type is so strong that finally
even a deviation from the original line to any other rest-
ing point, even if somewhat outside the melodic idea of
the original shape, will endow the new note with the
quality of a (definite or transitory) tonic, if only it is
properly emphasized through the accents inherent in the
phrasing.
This is precisely the method according to which De-
bussy forms his melodic lines. In a somewhat summarizing
way one could say: melodic tonality plus modulation is
modern tonality — at least in the sense which Debussy ini-
tiated and which a great part of his French, Spanish and
also English successors continued and developed.
This will be demonstrated more concretely in a few
moments. However, to understand Debussy's full achieve-
ment in this sphere, one must not forget that his composi-
tions are not merely successions of homophonic melodies,
as were (at least as far as our knowledge goes) those old
folk tunes, but that his basic melodic shapes sound within
a complicated web of passages, contrapuntal garlands and
harmonies of various types. Yet to grasp the deeper idea
of these Debussyan sound combinations we must consider
the technical qualities of his melodic patterns in some
detail.
In Ex. 2 a melodic outline of a part of Debussy's piano
piece Reflets dans Veau is given —
a composition about
 Tonality / 41

which Debussy wrote in a letter to Durand that he was

shaping "according to the most recent discoveries of
it

harmonic chemistry." 4
The shape in Ex. 2a, rising from A-flat in the bass to
A-flat —
G-flat on top, finally concluding on E-flat, already
appears to point to that tonal principle which we sub-
sumed under the term of melodic tonality. Its melodic line
is not conceived according to the cadencing spirit which
5
characterizes the classical melody, though, to be sure, its
structural pattern is a little different from that of the old

Biblical tune, which simply revolved around one note, E.

But by sustaining the A-flat as a constant pedal, a rela-
tionship of tonical unity, similar to that of the old tune, is

alive in Debussy's melody too —

a state which is even in-
tensified by the conclusion on E-flat which blends with
the low A-flat almost like a unison.
The following group, Ex. 2b, partly imitates the first at
a higher pitch. Here the line begins and concludes with
C, which similarly blends with the still sustained A-flat.
The last figure in this group is repeated and finally falls to
D-flat in the bass (bar 35) where the recapitulation starts.
Here a particularly interesting feature becomes apparent.
D-flat the overall tonic of Reflets dans Veau. Thus in the
is

traditional terminology the preceding, almost endlessly

long pedal on A-flat, would simply be considered as the
dominant cadencing into the tonic, just as in any classical
piece. However, the upper melodic lines which are contra-
puntally superimposed on the A-flat pedal, by no means
generate harmonies characteristic of a dominant. These
melodic lines in essence are units in their own right, with
their own tonical impulses to which, of course, the con-
stantly sustained A-flat pedal adds an increased feeling of
oneness.
This concept of a different tonality is still more obvious
in the later, corresponding groups of the recapitulation.
Here no pedal underlies the design, rather the bass pro-
4 Referred to in E. Robert Schmitz, The Piano Works of Claude
Debussy, Duell, Sloan and Pearce, New York.
5 Of course, in a forced, artificial manner the line could
perhaps
also be described in classical (harmonic) terms. See below, p. 43.
 42 / Tonality in Modern Music
gresses freely, until much later it returns again over A-flat
to D-flat. In the traditional terminology one would per-
haps, here again, say that the harmonies in Ex. 2c and Ex.
2d are normal secondary dominants through which the
line moves towards the basic dominant and tonic. But
again the melodic shapes superimposed on these harmo-
nies are melodic figurationson their own, not at all out-
growths (in an overtone sense) from the bass. The groups
(2c and 2d) are in their first parts indeed very similar in
tonal construction to the Biblical example. Ex. 2c hinges
on F, 2d on F-sharp, both however ending with a "me-
lodic modulation," 2c swerving into F-sharp, 2d into G.
When these new melodic tonics F-sharp and G are
reached, Debussy harmonizes them in an overtone sense
(F-sharp becoming part of the chord of the seventh on
B, G becoming part of the triad on E-flat). But this is
only a classification from the traditional angle, a classifica-
tion as it were in retrospect, while the lines themselves are
not conceived cadentially. Here it is essential to look at
Debussy's score and to examine the full course of the bass
within the piece, of which our example (2e) gives but an
indication. The
bass of Reflets dans Veau (if this dispersed
line can be called a bass), after the D-flat in the be-
at all
ginning, progresses from bar 16 on as follows: D-flat —
— F—
F; —B—
G-sharp D (repeated); F—F-flat—E-flat
—D; whereupon begins that lengthy A-flat pedal men-
tioned above, from which the line in bar 35 really con-
cludes in the tonic. All this is certainly not a progression
over dominants of any kind, but a freely shaped melodic
course returning to its point of departure.
The corresponding section in the recapitulation (bar
48 a.ff.) progresses over B —A —
G-sharp to a lengthy
E-flat (bar 56) and from there over A-flat to D-flat (bars
62-63). Yet, also in this context, one would hardly ven-
ture to classify, for instance, E-flat as the supertonic, A-flat
as the dominant and D-flat as the tonic, though theoreti-
cally one may be inclined to do Only when the line
so.
then moves over A— C — A to A-flat (bar65 a.ff.) does
the A-flat finally assume the character of a dominant fall-
 Tonality / 43

Thus the entire bass line, looked

ing into the tonic D-flat.
at for its own again a shape conceived in the spirit
sake, is

of melodic (not harmonic) tonality, especially since the

way in which the bass notes are harmonized and the —
reader should study this in the full score—makes it im-
possible to view them as cadential progressions.
Here we come across a most significant and almost un-
expected fact. Whenever the line after its melodic excur-
sions into extraneous regions returns over A-flat to D-flat,
although this A-flat may through its different harmoniza-
tion be far from representing an actual dominant, there
will still emerge in the listener's ear, which is conditioned
to the musical atmosphere of the classics, a faint feeling
that the A-flat — D-flat, even if differently harmonized, is
the overtone returning to its tonic. Debussy obviously uses
the pitches of the dominant-tonic progression, rather than
their harmonic idea, as a structural device. Indeed, trained
as he was in the classical tradition, Debussy still imbues
shapes conceived in melodic tonality with a touch of the
old overtone phenomenon. This blending of two different
tonal worlds is one of the most ingenious achievements
determining his style. For it must be understood that the
example quoted by no means represents a rare case, an
exception as it were, but constitutes a frequent method of
his structural formation.
In fact, even the lines which were described above (see
p. 41) as samples of melodic tonality can with some
effort be classified in traditional terms; for instance the
shape quoted in Ex. 2a would thus appear as a kind of
suspension —
a suspension formed by the whole melodic
line — finally resolving into the A-flat harmony. Yet such
a formulation would seem rather forced and would not
alter the quality of the line which was conceived in the
spirit of melodic tonality.
Having thus examined some general principles of the
compositional technique through which Debussy estab-
lished a new concept of tonality in European music, we
may still point to some other features, in order to fill in
the picture.
 44 / Tonality m Modern Music
1. There is an almost inconspicuous device which never-
thelessseems highly characteristic of his style: namely, the
—
frequent use of lengthy pedal points not merely bass
pedals in the actual sense of the term, but sustained "ped-
als" in any voice. Seen from the classical point of view
these pedal points, as Debussy handles them, often without
any harmonic progression taking place above them, might
appear merely as a means of escape, designed to avoid
rather than to emphasize any clear harmonization of the
melodies they support. And indeed this is precisely why
Debussy employs them. For they help to let the melodies
be understood in their own melodic right and not as me-
lodically extended harmonic progressions, as in a sense are
classical melodies.

2. To make one forget the occasional absence of har-

mony is also part of the function of the well-known glit-
tering passages in Debussy's music. This web of passages
and figurations, so much favoured by the composer, was
one of the main features owing to which aestheticians of
his day affixed the label of impressionism to his music —
term of which he himself somewhat disapproved. The
deeper stylistic sense of these passages which in their most
effective and characteristic form resist harmonic classifi-
cation —
in contrast to the majority of classical figurative
passages —
was, again, to circumvent harmonic rigidity.
Debussy's passages are in essence melodies, melodies ut-
tered in a swirling flash of polyphonic colour, added to the
basically simple course of his compositions.

3. This retreat from over-emphasis on harmony per-

meates even his method of harmonization itself. In this
respect his frequent use of successions of parallel chords,
be they chords of the fifth and octave or fifth and ninth,
is particularly characteristic. One often reads that he used
these chords in rebellion against the rule of parallel fifths
in classical music. This is rather a childish explanation,
which entirely misses the deeper idea of the ingenious
device. Debussy introduced these "'harmonies" because
they are in essence not harmonies at all, but rather
"chordal melodies," enriched unisons. This applying of
 Tonality / 45

harmonic gestures without harmonic content endowed his

lines with a "beauty of emptiness" —
an effect which, how-
ever, in works of later, less able composers often became
6
shallow through constant misuse.

4. These chords of the fifth and ninth are also significant

from a wider point of view. For they are the first samples
of a harmonic concept which later played such an impor-
tant part in modern musical theory and practice —
namely,
the concept of bitonality. Since melodic tonality, in con-
trast to classical tonality, is not centred on clear-cut har-
monic progressions, it was quite natural that under its

aegis chords could emerge, the designation of which was

not clearly determinable. In this sense, Debussy introduced
those bitonal chords which convey the feeling that two
overtone series, for instance two triads, are combined in
one harmony. It was the beginning of a way of harmonic
thinking from which the whole trend of mixed harmonies
evolved and which afterwards led to all kinds of multiple
tonalities and finally even to an attempt at a synthesis of
all of them. 7

6 Once one understands the deeper sense of Debussy's parallel

fifths,one cannot fail to refute the amateurish misuse to which the
device is sometimes put in the works of would-be modern com-
posers. To interpret a melodic line harmonically in parallel chords
is legitimate and may be effective, // one wishes, as it were, to
avoid harmonization. But to use these chords at random within
an environment of organically connected harmonies is a substitute,
just as poor and repulsive in the modern as in the classical style.
7 Though Debussy seems to have been the first to introduce these

harmonies as a regular feature, the root of the idea is already seen

in some instances of Beethoven's extraordinary manner of har-
monization. The clash of the horns with the strings in the first
movement of Beethoven's "Eroica" Symphony, four measures be-
fore the recapitulation, was long regarded as due to an error on
Beethoven's or his copyist's part. Yet similar harmonies combin-
ing the chords of the tonic and dominant, and by the way in the
same key of E-flat major, are heard towards the end of the first
movement of the Piano Sonata, op.81a (Les Adieux). And a
particularly interesting example of Beethovenian multitonality is
found in his Piano Sonata, op.31, No.2. Here the phenomenon
which appears in the development section is centred on the manner
of pedalling given in Beethoven's autograph. An alleged error,
 46 / Tonality in Modern Music

5. Use of the whole-tone scale. This is a feature which

usually is mentioned first when Debussy's musical style is

described. However, the matter often seems rather mis-

formulated. These little whole-tone phrases —
complete
scales emerge comparatively seldom —
admittedly often ap-
pear in Debussy's texture. The reason, however, is not
Debussy's search for a new scale system but rather his
desire to deviate from the regular path of the major and
minor modes and their inherent dominant-tonic tonality
which did not conform with his musical feeling. Thus in
his music whole-tone phrases often come to life beside
various other deviations. In general, as was emphasized
earlier, composers do not form melodies according to a
scale pattern but scales are theoretical abstractions from
melodies.

6. As a last feature which must appear characteristic of

Debussy's style a certain type of modulation should be
mentioned. Frequently when Debussy wishes to shift from
one tonical orbit to another, he does so without any har-
monic bridge, without even any linking chord or phrase,
simply by dwelling on a certain note and increasing its
accent, exactly in the manner described above in con-
nection with the Biblical tune. A
persuasive example of
such a modulation, which can be duplicated in numerous
others, is given in the quotation from La Cathedrale en-
gloutie (Ex. 2f).
All the devices just described add up to the one decisive
fact — that Debussy abandoned the rule of classical tonality
as the governing principle of harmonic formation; but
and this is the cardinal point—he did not at the same time
abandon tonality, that is, tonical relationship, tonical feel-
ing as such. Wherever his compositional lines swerve to
unusual melodic concatenations one still feels an aim, a
direction towards a goal, towards a resting point. We
which some commentators aver is definitely disproved by the re-
ception of the same markings a few bars later. Artur Schnabel,
by the way, in his edition of Beethoven's sonatas strongly upholds
the autograph.
 Tonality / 47

termed this kind melodic tonality, since it

of tonality
seems to have originated in the homophonic melodies of
old folklore. However, the great, the full structural
achievement of Debussy, it should be remembered, must
be seen in his combining this new concept with many of
the basic ideas of musical construction which he inherited
and drew from the works of his classical predecessors
though under his pen even these classical devices often
assume quite different meanings. The frequent dominants,
for instance, which emerge in the midst or towards the
—
end of his compositions these good old dominants ap- —
pear in their new tonal environment often as particularly
charming, indeed surprisingly new harmonic effects. Thus
Debussy not only enriched the language of music by in-
venting new melodies as a result of his search for new
harmonies and a new tonality, but also vice versa, by
creating new harmonies from a new melodic impulse.
Debussy, of course, was not the first composer, not even
the first French composer, to try to change the classical
harmonic picture. But he was the first to replace the old
state by a new positive concept which influenced the evo-
lution. Shortly before Debussy, Eric Satie, though slightly
younger, blazed the trail in abandoning or in some cases
even destroying, the rule of classical tonality. Satie's in-
fluence on Debussy in this respect is historically docu-
mented.
The question of Satie's creative significance, which some
affirm enthusiastically while others deny it just as strongly,
is not under discussion here. This question would depend

on more than merely his contribution in the realm of

tonality. But with regard to the other question, to whom
credit must be given for having initiated a new structural
principle of far-reaching consequences in modern music,
Satie cannot be considered as Debussy's actual predeces-
sor.The development of the new state of tonality described
above, was Debussy's autonomous achievement. Satie, by
introducing free and sometimes discordant harmonic pro-
gressions was (perhaps simultaneously with that fascinat-
ing yet tragic figure, Scriabin) one of the pioneers of
modern music. He weakened the old chains as it were, but
 48 / Tonality in Modern Music
did not introduce a positive new concept. Debussy, on the
other hand, built a new positive concept of tonality in
music. This new concept became one of the strongest im-
pulses in the decades after him and influenced a great
part of the later French, English, Spanish and American
music. Through its further development, enrichment and

and through a blending with many features

intensification,
derived from a quite different musical realm, about which
we shall speak presently, a third tonal state came to life,
which will be described in a later chapter as "pantonality."
 PART TWO
ATONALITY
Chapter 1

Schoenberg's Search
for a New Style

While Debussy was still at work, developing his

ideas, a slightly younger, Viennese composer searched in
a different direction for a new musical style. The name of
this young composer was Arnold Schoenberg.
It is an interesting fact that Schoenberg's creative out-
put was at that time, that is, in his first compositional
period, more firmly rooted in traditional, indeed, con-
servative concepts than was that of his German predeces-
sors, Strauss, Reger or Mahler. A
propensity for almost
Wagnerian romanticism, of a slightly Viennese variety
(perhaps derived from Bruckner), speaks from many
parts of Schoenberg's early works, such as his string sextet
Transfigured Night, the symphonic poem Pelleas and
Melisande, his First String Quartet and the cantata Gurre-
lieder. One has the feeling that in these works he clings
more carefully, more rigidly, to the classical cadential
concept than did his immediate forerunners.
Although, therefore, as far as the music he was writing
at that time is concerned, Schoenberg must be considered
a traditionalist, nevertheless an impulse, a longing for an
untraditional style must already have been deep in his
heart. This is proved by the works that followed after-
wards, in which the outspokenly traditional idiom was
superseded by clear, almost outright atonality.
The change came with surprising suddenness. This is a
highly interesting fact to observe. Though Schoenberg at
the end of his first period must have felt that he was
about to give up tonality, it is astounding that a stylistic
bridge, a gradual, organic expansion and loosening of
tonality, as we see it in the works of Reger and Strauss,
is almost missing in his music. He obviously shunned any
intermediary state and, instead, turned down outright
tonality to outright atonality. Even in the few composi-

51
 52 / Tonality in Modern Music
tions, as for instance the Second String Quartet and the
Chamber Symphony [1st], where some parts already seem
to approach the atonal idiom, other parts are still almost
decidedly tonal.
Some observers thought that he had at that time simply
not yet found the technical expression for a style which
would have helped him to overcome the limitation of the
classical harmonic concept gradually rather than in a
single leap. However this may have been, if it was a de-
ficiency, it was certainly a fortunate one from a historical
point of view. Often in the history of the arts technical
deficiencies in one sphere proved to be conducive in in-
troducing another technique and thus creating a new style.
At any rate, Schoenberg decided to throw off the shackles
of the classical concept in one sweep, by force as it were,
and in 1909 he published his Three Pieces for Piano,
op. 11. A tonality had made its appearance in music. The
effect on the musical world at that time can today, when
all this is taken for granted (no matter whether one likes

or dislikes the music itself), hardly be imagined by the

younger generation. In Vienna, where Schoenberg lived
and where owing to her musical past the classical tradition
was much more deeply entrenched than in France or Eng-
land, many concealed their shock by trying to dismiss the
whole thing a a joke. Schoenberg, however, soon proved
through his next compositions, among which were the
George Lieder, the Five Pieces for Orchestra, op. 16,
Pierrot lunaire and others, that he was very much in
earnest. 1
1 Itshould be understood that our presentation, in setting Debussy
and Schoenberg in opposition, describes merely the principles and
consequently the extremes of the evolution. But there are also in
the German orbit, even from the time that Schoenberg developed
his style, quite a few examples to be found which leave the estab-
lished tonal patterns far behind and still point to something quite
opposite to atonality. A small yet characteristic sample of this
forward-pointing style is quoted in Ex. 3 (see p. 158) taken from
Egon Wellesz' opera Alkestis, composed in 1923.
In general, the development towards atonality, even the most
extreme type of atonality, required much less structural readjust-
ment and structural invention than the development towards those
new and higher patterns of multitonality that will be described
 Atonality / 53
These works represent the second period in Schoen-
berg's compositional production, before he embarked on
his third period, which is based on the so-called "compo-
sition with twelve tones." The harmonic concept which the
works of the second period express is, as mentioned above,
one of outright atonality or at least a state as close to it as
is possible in musical practice. In the Three Pieces for

Piano, particularly in the third of these pieces, chords and

chordal progressions emerge which reveal little tonical re-
lationship to each other — neither of the type that we call
harmonic nor of melodic tonality. Here the musical con-
tinuity is maintained merely by thematic consistency and
the logical grouping of the phrases: in the first two pieces
at times in a homophonic style, that is with a leading me-
lodic line supported by some chordal accompaniment, at
other times (and especially in the third piece) in poly-
phonic elaboration.
If today we survey this period of atonality —
atonality
—
pure and simple in retrospect, some interesting aspects
come to light. There can be little doubt that it constitutes
in many respects the weakest period of Schoenberg's ac-
tivity. It comprises not more than ten or twelve works,
often of minor size. These works, which, incidentally, are
the least frequently performed, are his least interesting
ones with the exception of perhaps one or two, as for
instance Pierrot lunaire. In this work, apart from the fact
that a stimulating text recited by the so-called Sprech-
stimme and accompanied by a colourful, half-impression-
isticinstrumental body keeps the interest alive, there are
signs that Schoenberg here attempted an idiom which, had
he continued in this direction, would have led not towards
direct atonality but to a state more close to a certain new
later in this study. Once the decision to abandon the old systems
of tonality and key was accepted, it was comparatively easy to
introduce such "audacious" and "radical" harmonic combinations
as we encounter in Schoenberg's atonal, pre-twelve-tone composi-
tions or in Strawinsky's works from the same period, such as the
Sacre du Print emps and others. Yet this systemless radicalism did
not satisfy the creators: Schoenberg developed his twelve-tone
technique and Strawinsky returned to a style much closer to the
pre-modern idiom (see pandiatonicism on p. 138).
 54 / Tonality in Modern Music
specific stylewhich will be discussed later under panto-
nality. However, he did not pursue this trend.
But now a most significant event in his development
took place: this second period, which began in 1908,
ended in a sense in 1912, although the Four Songs with
Orchestra, op.22, of 1914, belong in it. The next finished
work was published in 1923, the Five Piano Pieces, op.23.
In between, Schoenberg devoted himself to other activities,
and only sporadically worked on some musical composi-
tions which he never finished. How is such a lengthy in-
terval of creative silence —
an interval of roughly ten years
— to be explained? These ten years of compositional in-
activity in a man of Schoenberg's creative energy show
that something must have happened in him or in his work,
something that impeded the flow of his otherwise irresisti-
ble productivity. Indeed, he must have felt that he had
arrived at something like a creative impasse and that he
had to wait, to search for a way out.
To find the mysterious reasons for this self-imposed
lengthy interval of silence we may turn to another part of
Schoenberg's creative activities. For there is beside his
actual compositional work an authentic source which
might help us to see the tendencies, hopes and doubts with
which his mind must have been occupied when he entered
that decisive period. It is his principal theoretical work, a
textbook on harmony, published in 191 1. 2
The effect of this book in furthering Schoenberg's repu-
tation was perhaps more intense and positive than that
of many of his contemporaneous compositions, as for in-
stance his piano pieces mentioned above, which had ap-
peared a short while earlier. Whatever one may have felt
about the practical usefulness of this treatise as a textbook,
at least no one could deny that here for the first time
theoretical advice was offered on an artistic level hitherto

2 The following deductions and quotations refer to and are trans-

lated from the original German
edition (Harmonielehre, Universal
Edition, Vienna). An English translation, published fairly recently,
is for our purpose of little value, since all parts dealing with

aesthetics and questions of principle, which in the original version

pre-modern idiom (see pandiatonicism on p. 138).
 Atonality / 55

unheard of in musical instruction. This Harmonielehre was

not a dry collection of rules but a discourse on the creative
impulses which brought the rules into being, and the idio-
matic and stylistic conditions under which the rules should
be considered valid.
Now, to be sure, the greater part of the book is not
concerned with modern music but with the familiar con-
cepts of traditional harmony. Yet, although almost the
whole of the book is centered on classical tonality, the

reader nevertheless from the beginning is made to under-

stand that what he reads represents merely a theoretical
abstraction from the musical practice of the past centuries,
and that the dawn of a new musical age is fast approach-
ing. Only in the very last pages a few technical indications
— not more than indications —
as to the nature of the new,
"modern" harmonies are given. These indications of a new
harmonic state conform of course with Schoenberg's com-
positional concept and compositional practice at that par-
ticular time in his life, that is, his second, his atonal
period.
Now by reading Schoenberg's brief description con-
cerning these new harmonies which in his opinion at that
time obviously were supposed to form the backbone of his
musical language, one cannot fail to be disappointed with
the vagueness of his explanations. For here almost every
reader would have expected certain enlightening revela-
tions. Now one might have hoped to learn some-
at last
thing something authentic, about that new
definite,
unheard-of type of harmonies which at that time shocked
the world. Yet no such thing was offered. Apart from a
very generalized suggestion that the "more remote over-
tones" will henceforth have to be included in the harmonic
stock, and a quotation of a few isolated chords from
Schoenberg's and his pupils' compositions and those of
Schreker and Bartok, no principle is set forth, no concrete
technical description of the nature of these harmonies is
even attempted. Indeed, after his spirited and admirable
remarks on the harmonic mechanism of the classical
period, the composer seems now, as he tries to advance his
own harmonic ideas, to have arrived in his theoretical
 56 / Tonality in Modern Music
thinking at an impasse surprisingly similar to that in his
compositional production of the same time, which resulted
in that ten-year period of silence. That this is not just a
presumptuous contention of the present author will soon
be proved by calling Schoenberg himself as a witness. But
first we must dig deeper into the musical problem itself.

What was the reason which at that time prevented Schoen-

berg from putting to work his full creative resources?
The answer lies in the innermost nature of atonality.
For atonality as such is no binding, nor form-building
musical force but rather the lack, the negation of such
forces. All this will soon be described in more detail. But
first, attention should be drawn to another point, namely

to a particular concept which Schoenberg developed early

in life, and which, although he mentions the whole problem
only incidentally and almost casually, nevertheless accom-
panied his theoretical and compositional work more or less
consciously during his whole artistic career. To state this
briefly: Schoenberg believed that whether an interval, or
for that matter a combination of intervals, a chord, con-
stitutes a consonance or a dissonance, is only a question of
habit, of convention, almost of fashion. Thus he concludes
that the habit which for one age endowed the fifth, third
and similar intervals with the effect of a consonance could
be reversed in another age to a habit which would make
these intervals sound as frightful dissonances. Vice versa,
those intervals that appeared earlier as dissonances could
emerge as smooth, pleasing consonances*
This idea, constantly pursued by Schoenberg, was later
tacitly accepted as a matter of course and retold and re-
printed by many of his adherents. Alluring as it may have
seemed around the turn of the century when the musical
avant-garde searched for a way out from the old restric-
tive tenets, it can hardly from any sober historical or
musical point of view be maintained as a serious thesis.
In general, and quite apart from Schoenberg's theory,
there is one thing which makes this whole subject of dis-
sonance handle; namely, the fact that there is
difficult to
no scale of gradation set up in musical theory for dis-
sonances. The gradation of consonances is quite clear ac-
3 See, for instance, pp. 77 a.ff. in his Harmonielehre.
 Atonality / 57
cording to the overtone series: unison, octave, fifth, third.
But —
as for the dissonances there is theoretically —no dif-
ference in degree of dissonance between, for instance, an
augmented fourth and a major seventh. Both must equally,
according to academic rule, be prepared and resolved.
And the matter becomes still more complicated if we con-
sider that chords do not consist of one but of several inter-
vals, and in modern music often of a combination of
many, even counteracting intervals.
Schoenberg, on his part, did not try to set up such a
gradation of dissonances — an endeavour which within the
idiom of complicated chords, as in modern music, would
probably have been insoluble anyway. Instead, as a justi-
fication for the general introduction of more and more
dissonances, he suggested that the dissonances represent
the "remote overtones" (in contrast to the close overtones
called consonances in traditional theory).
Now it is all too well known that in a physical-acousti-
cal sense the overtone series can be expanded beyond the
third, seventh or even ninth. But it is very doubtful
whether in a musical sense we hear these intervals as over-
tones. Our whole feeling speaks against the assumption
that the ear would thus conceive every thinkable note as
the representative of a remote, indeed often very remote,
overtone; which overtone, besides, would have to be in
pitch very differentfrom the note in question and, more-
over, would usually have to be lowered many octaves to
be identified. From a musical point of view at any rate,
this whole theory of "remote overtones" is unimportant
and could at best be considered as an intriguing, if prob-
lematical, terminology.
More important is what lies behind it all. Schoenberg
confused two different problems. He was entirely right and
only expressed the trend of the time in his aesthetic claim
that further intervals and chord combinations, apart from
the customary ones, should be permitted in the harmonic
palette. But he was somewhat naively wrong in assuming
that therefore the musical difference between all these
intervals (consonances and dissonances alike) would by
the same token be done away with. That the violent, pain-
 58 / Tonality in Modern Music
ful and even excessive has as much right to be used in
artisticexpression as has the gentle and comforting, was a
realization that forced itself into the aesthetic and creative
evolution around the turn of the century not in music—
alone but in all the arts. But that there is no difference be-
tween the two contrasting categories and that they can
therefore simply be interchanged is indeed paradoxical, if
not absurd. The very purpose of including this host of
new discords is to intensify and increase the possibilities
of contrast, not to obscure or eliminate them.
The truth is was carried away by theo-
that Schoenberg
retical speculation. What he was searching for was
actually
less a justification for the introduction of more dissonance
than for his new concept of atonality. For this was the
very concept that he tried to express in his compositions
of that time. The result was a negative one in both spheres.
In his compositional work it enforced on him that ten-
year period of silence. As for his simultaneous theoretical
thought, one must read what he had to say towards the
end of his book, Harmonielehre. There, after having
quoted the few chordal examples from his own and his
pupils' works mentioned previously, chords of the purely
atonal type for which no structural explanation is given,
he simply declares: "Why this is so and why it is right, I
cannot for the time being say in detail. As a whole it may
be taken for granted by those who share my opinion as to
the nature of dissonance" 4 And soon he continues: "Here
laws seem to exert themselves. What laws, I do not know.
Perhaps I will know in a few years. Perhaps someone else
will find them."
He never seems to have known, for he never spoke of
this matter again.
To what all this finally amounts is that atonality
straight, unconditional atonality —
did not lead Schoenberg
to the solution he longed for, neither in his compositional
nor in his theoretical search. But here his genius stepped
in. For during these years, which must have been a time
of crisis for him, he came to the conclusion that in order

4 The italics are those of the present author.

 Atonality / 59

to proceed further on the road he had chosen, he would

have to place atonality on a firm technical basis and de-
velop a method which would bring order into the vague
and half-chaotic state to which the unconditional abandon-
ment of tonality had carried him.
The method he introduced was the twelve-tone tech-
nique.
Whether even this method brought a solution to the
deeper problem which atonality as a compositional prin-
ciple poses, is a different question which will be discussed
later. But certainly it enabled him to write those works
through which he became one of the most interesting and
most discussed musical personalities of our time and
through which he exerted an amazing influence on so
many composers of our generation.
Chapter 2

Composition with
Twelve Tones

The idea of twelve-tone music was not conceived by

Schoenberg. But Schoenberg developed that specific tech-
nique which the present adherents of this compositional
method more or less follow. The differentiation between
idea and technique of "music with twelve tones" should be
firmly kept in mind. It is essential for the understanding of
our subject throughout the whole remainder of this study.
In this sense it should be realized that the thought of
abandoning the diatonic scheme and replacing it by one
in which the twelve notes of the chromatic scale would
have equal rank, seemed at that time a very natural idea.
Itwas, so to speak, in the air. 1
This writer has much first-hand knowledge of the cir-
cumstances surrounding these historical developments.
Not only did he have in those days a close relationship
to Schoenberg, 2 but he was also associated with Josef
Hauer, whose works he introduced to the musical world
and whose particular role in the whole series of events
which accompanied the beginnings of twelve-tone music
is well known.
1 R. S. Hill in an elaborate Schoenberg's Tone Rows and
treatise
the Tonal System of the Future given as a lecture before
(first
The Greater New York Chapter of the American Musicological
Society, then reprinted in Musical Quarterly, January 1936) sur-
veys some of the early attempts at introducing the twelve-tone
cencept into music. His paper which, besides containing a still
valuable bibliography, gives an exhaustive account of the state in
which the whole problem appeared some twenty years ago, is
indeed a classic in theoretical literature that no one interested in
in the subject should fail to read.
2 The author gave the first performance of
Schoenberg's Drei
Klavierstuecke, op. 11 (see Egon Wellesz' biographical study
Arnold Schoenberg, J. M. Dent & Sons, London, 1925). He also
gave the first performance of Schoenberg's Sechs Kleine Klavier-
stuecke, op. 19.

60
 Atonality / 61

In countless discussions with Hauer the inevitability of

placing the new music on a chromatic basis in which all

notes would have equal functions and in which no tonic,

dominant or leading note could assume any predominant
role was stressed —
and this, years before Schoenberg came
out with his twelve-tone theory. Hauer from the beginning
even emphasized and practised in his compositions the
rule, which later became such an important feature in the
twelve-tone technique; that within a twelve-tone circle
(later called a "row") no note could be repeated. When
soon both Schoenberg and Hauer presented their mani-
festos regarding the twelve-tone style a more or less con-
cealed rivalry as to the priority of the idea broke out
between the two groups. 3
However all this may have been in detail, one thing
which in the light of today's events is decisive cannot be
doubted. The twelve-tone idea may have been developed
4
by Schoenberg, Hauer (and others) fairly simultaneously,
but the actual twelve-tone technique with its set of rules
and devices must be credited and exclusively to
solely
Schoenberg. And it is this technique which has become
such a strong force in contemporary music.
As for the concrete mechanism of the technique
it can-

not, of course, be the purpose ofstudy to give any de-

this
tailed description of its devices. (This may be found in
many monographs.) But to a few of the principal features
which lie at the base of the technique and to some ideas
which emerged from its application, we must now turn our
attention.
According to the technique's code every twelve-tone
composition is centred on a so-called "tone row" (Grund-

8 Schoenberg's system of composition with twelve tones was

published for the first time in the Viennese magazine Der Anbruch
in an article by his pupil Erwin Stein in 1924, while Hauer made
his theories known through a series of publications, such as Vom
Wesen des Musikalischen: ein Lehrbuch der Zwolftonmusik, 1920,
and others.
4 It is highly interesting to note that in some works by the Ameri-
can composer Charles Ives examples of outspoken twelve-tone
structures are to be found, composed years before the respective
efforts of Schoenberg and Hauer (see Ex. 10a).
 62 / Tonality in Modern Music
gesalt). This row is a series of twelve notes built from
the notes of the chromatic scale, the order of which is

freely chosen by the composer according to his individual

intentions in each specific composition. The course of the
whole composition or a section of it, then, is formed by a
constant reiteration of the row; naturally not a constant
literal reiteration, but a reiteration to which certain struc-
tural treatments are applied. In the first place, the row can
appear either in a horizontal or in a vertical position or in
a combination of both. Secondly, the row can be intro-
duced either directly or in mirror forms (inversion, retro-
gression, or inversion of retrogression) and also in all
transpositions.
These are, in briefest outline, the technical features ac-
cording to which twelve-tone composition proceeds. But
to understand its deeper idea, we must remember the rea-
son why, and the purpose for which, Schoenberg invented
the technique. Obviously not entirely satisfied with his pre-
twelve-tone style, or at least not convinced of its definitive-
ness within his creative endeavour, the composer wished to
organize atonality on a firmer structural basis. In this re-
spect both points were of equal importance: a firmer tech-
nical basis and the achievement of a truly atonal idiom. Of
course, some works of his previous period had already
been written in a clearly atonal vein, or at least as close to
atonality as could be expected in musical practice. Yet to
maintain this concept was often a difficult task, and tonal
elements again and again threatened to creep into, and to
disrupt, the carefully arranged atonal structure. Thus he
developed a technique that he thought would make it
easier to check tonal inroads and to write strictly atonal
music.
Nevertheless, it should be realized that the twelve-tone
technique as such, that is, from the point of view of its
mechanism, does not exclude tonality entirely. A simple
deliberation shows that the twelve-tone row can easily be
set up as an almost complete combination of triads. (We
shall return to this later.) Still the technique facilitates the
attempt to exclude tonality if one so wishes. And this wish,
this advice to refrain from any tonal element was strongly
 Atonality / 63

emphasized by Schoenberg. Overtone relationships of any

kind, be they in the vertical or the horizontal sense, that
is, the use of phrases, of chords or chordal progressions
that would point to tonical preponderance of any tone
within the row, were considered taboo in the twelve-tone
technique from the beginning —
or perhaps, as we will soon
see, particularly in the beginning.
Naturally, Schoenberg well knew that tonality was not
only a harmonic concept but also a structural force of
highest importance, as overtone relationships bind the
musical utterances, make them appear as units, and thus
create form. Therefore, if he was to give up this form-
building, highly constructive force entirely, he had, instead,
to endow his music with another force of apparently equal
constructive quality. He thought he had found this other
force by integrating into his technique a motivic-thematic
permeation of a hitherto unheard-of thoroughness and
completeness. To replace one structural force (tonality)
by another (increased thematic oneness) is indeed the
fundamental idea behind the twelve-tone technique. Of
course, this tendency towards an emphasis on the thematic
phenomenon was alive in Schoenberg from the beginning
of his compositional activity — a fact that speaks for the
intensity of his inborn musicianly impulse. This tendency
was increased in his second period, when he abandoned
tonality for a free atonal style. Yet in this second period
he must have realized that the normal thematic mechanism
was not sufficient to impart unity to an unqualified atonal
style which through the centrifugal quality of its harmonic
design always threatens to dissolve the compositional
fabric. Therefore he replaced simple, unqualified atonality
with organized atonality in which he made thematic con-
sistency
consistency
——
perhaps an exaggerated, overdrawn thematic
the fundamental device in his third, the
twelve-tone period.
This, then, was the picture of the new compositional
style: a highly unified musical fabric in one sense, but with
strict avoidance of any semblance of the other type of
unity which is brought about by tonical relationship.
To understand fully what far-reaching practical conse-
 64 / Tonality in Modern Music
quences are implied in this idea we may turn to a concrete
example. We choose Schoenberg's Fourth String Quartet,
op. 37, of which in Ex. 4 the opening measures are
quoted. The constant recurrence of the twelve-tone row
within these measures is indicated by numbers. The ex-
ample represents one of the typical patterns in this kind
of music. The row sounds first from the melody in the first
violin and spreads vertically down into the accompanying
chords. How did these chords come into being? As the ex-
ample shows, they must in a sense have been conceived
from an impulse to "fulfil the row." To this purpose
Schoenberg used the following method. He divided the row
(the "melodic row" as expressed in the part of the first
violin) into four subsequent parts of three notes each (see
footnote on p. 70). The chords in the first six measures
are simply vertical formations of the four parts of the
row. From the second half of bar 6 on, the transposed in-
version of the row (starting from G) is played by the
second violin, however in an entirely different rhythmical
shaping. The first violin "imitates" the second (again in a
rhythmically different shaping), the imitation, however,
extending over four notes only, of which the third and
fourth notes swerve in contrary motion. At the same time
the accompanying chords played by the first violin, the
viola and 'cello, express, here too, the successive parts
of this transposed row in inversion.
With measure 10 a new group starts. Here the first
violin plays the original row in retrograde, and also re-
sumes the original rhythm. Again, as in the beginning, the
other instruments accompany with chords which are
formed from the parts of the row.
Purely structurally speaking, these are patterns of a
highly artistic exactitude. However, there are involved in
this method which competent com-
certain peculiarities
posers, above Schoenberg himself, solve more effi-
all
ciently, less competent ones less so. But peculiarities they
remain. For once the twelve-tone composer has established
the basic design for a group and a few notes of the row
still remain unaccounted for, he must resort to the simple
 Atonality / 65

but, from a musicianly point of view, rather questionable

expedient of dispersing the missing notes somehow in the
design. We see this procedure recurring invariably through-
out the whole of twelve-tone literature. Combined with the
postulate that tonical relationships of any kind should be
—
avoided for the avoidance of such relationships is the
core of atonality — the result is that "harmonies" are cre-
ated of which the only musicianly justification is the
adherence to the row. Here Schoenberg's tenet that the
manner in which the ear evaluates harmonic combinations
is after all a matter of habit, still lingers on —
with all the
problematic consequences entailed.
Moreover, while somewhat contradicting the conditions
though adding to their negative effect, is
just described,
a further, and perhaps still more important, problem.
Namely, in spite of all efforts of even the most "orthodox"
twelve-tone composer to avoid tonal by-effects, it is almost
impossible to set up a series of chord progressions from
which no vestige of overtone relationships or implications
of them would sporadically sound through. And this refers
not only to ordinary triads, chords of the seventh or ninth
and their inversions but to all kinds of suspensions, altera-
tions, etc., and often even to mere intervals. In brief,
whenever overtone relationships, be they of the vertical or
horizontal order, emerge in the otherwise atonal design,
the ear cannot help hearing them. For the overtone effect
is a natural phenomenon, independent of any style. Since,

however, in an atonal design these phenomena emerge not

only without but almost against the composer's intention,
these hidden relationships will here produce impressions
bare of any logic and sense. It is quite a different matter
when composers, consciously and inten-
later twelve-tone
tionallyand against the original twelve-tone spirit, tried to
blend tonal and atonal elements, with certain precautions,
into one whole. This will be discussed later. Indeed,
whether the atonal, the true twelve-tone concept is main-
tainable at all (a concept which makes no distinction be-
tween consonance and dissonance and, in fact, declares the
whole phenomenon of harmony non-existent, replacing it
 66 / Tonality in Modern Music
by motivic permeation) remains doubtful. 5 The entire his-
tory of the twelve-tone technique during the decades since
its introduction seems to point to the contrary.

Translation of letter from Arnold Schoenberg to Rudolph

Rett
1/7, 1911
Dear Mr. Reti,
Your analysis has given me great pleasure for two rea-
sons. First, because I gather that the pieces mean some-
thing to you. But far more because the acceptance they
have found did not remain passive but led you to action.
What I mean is that even had your analysis not told me
anything new about my piece, still it was, above all, a
deed. And a deed is to be valued above all as it springs
from a productive urge. But your article says, particularly
in the introduction and in the conclusion, very many fine
things which really showed me that you are a person who
stands very close to my sphere of thought. And this is
naturally very valuable to me.
It would give me great pleasure to make your acquaint-
ance. Would you visit me some time? Perhaps you would
telephone me one of the next days around two o'clock?
But very soon.
Cordial greetings,
Arnold Schoenberg
6 Hill's suggestion that the chord patterns of the twelve-tone style
themselves may through frequent usage gradually assume an auton-
omous harmonic meaning and thus provide additional unity to
the motivic bond, has not been confirmed by the evolution, tempt-
ing as it would seem in analogy to the alterations which have
become legitimate harmonies in the tonal realm. The reason is
easily understandable. The alterations in classical music, dissonant
as they may be, are nevertheless heard as deviations from an
underlying design of consonant cadential progressions. But the
dissonances (and for that matter even the involuntary conso-
nances) within an atonal fabric are not rooted in such relationship.
Their only raison d'etre is their adherence to the row. And the
ear may register this adherence — at least in instances where it is
—
not too difficult to trace as a meaningful structural feature, but
will not accept it as a substitute for a harmonic quality.
Chapter 3

Twelve-Tone Technique
in Evolution

Indeed, the history of twelve-tone music consists in great

part of the amazing attempt to reverse the technique's in-
nermost idea and nature. And, no less amazing, it is this
very process of reversal that has made twelve-tone music
such an influential force in the musical evolution of our
time.
To explain this paradox it may be recalled that the
deeper impulse behind the introduction of the twelve-tone
technique was the desire first, to create a technical mech-
anism through which atonality could be expressed in
music, and secondly (since this abolished the difference
between consonance and dissonance), to replace harmonic
grouping by intensified thematic structure. It is highly re-
vealing to observe how both these basic tendencies were
gradually loosened until in many respects they became al-
most non-existent.
Astoundingly enough, it was in a sense Schoenberg him-
self who blazed the trail in this development. Schoenberg
in his literary utterances often surprises one with almost
visionary recognitions which are in glaring contradiction
to his other theoretical deductions and even to his musical
practice. Thus, already at the beginning of his twelve-tone
activities, he prophesied the change of principle just in-
dicated. In a paper published in 1926 he assures us that
"when the twelve-tone system comes of age and the aver-
age ear has grown accustomed to it, consonances may
safely be reintroduced (while at present certain consonant
combinations cannot be used)."
Nevertheless, at that time this idea was merely a proph-
ecy. For in all his specific instructions he warned against
letting consonances creep into the twelve-tone fabric. Not
only did he emphasize that the reiteration of the same note
within the row should be avoided, he even frowned on

67
 68 / Tonality in Modern Music
simple octave doubling. For "to double is to emphasize,
and an emphasized tone could be interpreted as a root or
even as a tonic; the consequences of such an interpretation
must be avoided. Even a slight reminiscence of the former
tonal harmony would be disturbing, because it would cre-
ate false expectations of consequences and continuations.
The use of a tonic is deceiving if it is not based on all the
x
relationships of tonality."
This strict ban on all features through which even a
is one of the basic tenets
trace of tonality could re-emerge
which the twelve-tone composer was supposed to heed.
Yet many of the tonal features (both in a melodic and
harmonic sense) which Schoenberg thus wished to ex-
clude, made their unhindered re-entrance straight into the
twelve-tone style in the works of his great pupil Alban
Berg.
The technical possibility of such re-emergence is not

difficult tounderstand. A
simple deliberation tells us that
the twelve notes of the chromatic scale can readily be
grouped in such a way that the row is formed entirely by
a succession of triads or similar chord combinations. Such
a procedure would of course not conform with the initial
atonal impulse from which the twelve-tone idea originated,
but technically it is entirely possible. And Berg in many of
his twelve-tone compositions —
for instance in his Violin
—
Concerto did not fail to make use of this possibility. (See
Ex. 5, where a technical description of Berg's handling
of the twelve-tone idea is included.) In order to avoid
any misconception it must, of course, quickly be added
that he did not, for all that, deviate from the twelve-tone
atmosphere as such. But he never for dogmatic reasons
shuns any chordal, melodic or rhythmical shaping which
his musicianly instinct urges him to apply. At the same
time he preserves the atonal character, in that he never al-
lows the tonal elements which he includes to determine the
compositional course directly. Through this he produces a
mood of pale beauty, of humanized atonality, as it were.
It will be indicated later how twelve-tone composers after

1 Schoenberg, Style and Idea, Philosophical Library, New York,

1950.
 Atonality / 69

Berg, developed this trend further, by combining the tonal

and atonal elements into one unified musical vernacular.
At present we may turn our attention to another prob-
lem which also not only brought a striking change into the
twelve-tone concept but even threatened the complete dis-
integration of its structural idea. The problem is centred in
the controversy whether the row is supposed to exert a
motival or a non-motival function —
a controversy which
at times almost split the twelve-tone camp wide open. Yet
in the present context not the controversy itself is import-
ant, but the fact that in this conflict some of the weakest
links inherent in the twelve-tone technique came to the
fore.
The motival role of the row would imply that the row
has to be perceivable as a musical entity, while if the row
were considered as a non-motival element it would of
course suffice that the row could somehow be identifiable
in the score, even if its single notes were scattered around
without much regularity. Schoenberg himself, came out
strongly in defiance of the motival role, 2 by which means
alone the true spirit of the twelve-tone idea could be main-
tained. This, at least, was his theoretical position. Strangely
enough, however, in his musical practice he did not al-
ways abide by his own theoretical view. Especially in his
later compositional work, many examples can be found
where the motival quality of the row has entirely evapo-
rated, leaving it to the analyst's artifices to demonstrate its
existence —
if indeed, in every instance it was still exist-

ent at all. In fact, Schoenberg finally did not hesitate to

omit notes in the row or replace them through others in
instances where they did not suit his compositional inten-
tion. Although from a purist point of view this would ap-
pear as a cardinal sin against the spirit of twelve-tonism,
it speaks strongly for Schoenberg as a composer. He was

much too intense a musician not to follow his musical in-

stinct in a contest between
and his theories.
it

Today the row can no longer be considered an

definitely
element to which a permanent motival role must be at-
2 In a letter from Schoenberg to Hill, May 1935 (quoted in Hill's
article).
 70 / Tonality in Modern Music
tributed —
though occasionally it may be. This, at least,
seems to be the position which, theoretically and prac-
3
tically, most twelve-tone composers have assumed.
What does all this mean?
It shows that the desire to break through the restrictive
—
boundaries imposed by the technique for restrictive they
were in spite of all assertions to the contrary became so—
irresistibly strong among those who practised the tech-
nique, that the boundaries were often ignored, even if by
so doing the original purpose of twelve-tone composition
had to be abandoned. For had the motival role of the row
been maintained it would often have become impossible to
develop a compositional course of effective variety. Only
in the most fortunate circumstances would the composer
have been able to produce the compositional design he de-
sired, if at the same time he had constantly to reiterate the
literal, the "genuine" row (even allowing for all the mirror-
forms and transpositions). But if the row could be applied
merely as a "functional mode," to use Hill's expression,
that is, in a more indirect, vague manner, if it could be
dispersed into particles and tampered with at the com-
poser's discretion, then almost any musical picture could
be developed through the application of a row to which
hardly more than theoretical existence need be ascribed. 4
Thus the ritual was preserved, perhaps even intensified,
but the spirit and inner creed abandoned. And this evolu-
tion in the thematic realm was supported by the relaxation
in the harmonic-melodic sphere described previously. Ato-
nality was no longer the unalterable theoretical claim of
3 cf . also Ernst Krenek's study "New Developments
of the Twelve-
Tone Technique," Music Review, May 1943. Krenek in many of
his writings examines various angles of the twelve-tone style. His
conclusions are always elucidating, even if sometimes subjective.
4 In this connexion a further device which had already emerged

at an early stage of the technique proved significant: namely, the

habit of dividing the row into two or more parts and of applying
the mirror-forms and transpositions no longer to the whole row
but, whenever it seemed desirable, merely to the single parts, that
is, to a series of six, four or three notes —
and finally, perhaps, to
two notes or even to one. In this way, few ordinary designs of a
chromatic character are thinkable that could not be labelled
twelve-tone structures.
 Atonality / 71

the twelve-tone composer, neither was it his compositional

or his aesthetic goal.
It is in this sense that reports about recent musical
events in Europe should be understood. We hear for in-
stance about twelve-tone symphonies and operas of a
"very loosely knit, entirely free twelve-tone structure"; or
that "if one did not know that Mr. X writes in the twelve-
tone technique one might not suspect it from the sound of
the music itself."
Indeed, the freedom from the law to which the twelve-
tone composer had allegedly submitted has become a point
of emphasis stronger than the law itself. The truth of this
becomes most apparent in the explanation by the twelve-
tone composers themselves. Their discussions no longer
seem to revolve around the problems inherent in the
twelve-tone technique as such but rather around the one
obviously all-important question: to what degree and in
which way can its law be circumvented or outrightly
ignored?
Josef Rufer, in his interesting study on the subject, 5
publishes a number of statements by twelve —
indeed
twelve— of the best known twelve-tone composers. After
a solemn bow to the greatness and significance of the tech-
nique, each of the dozen takes pains to show how his par-
ticular handling of the twelve-tone idea differs from the
original system.
Rolf Liebermann, one of the most brilliant of them, has
coined the almost classic slogan of the "individual treat-
ment" by which the technique was "indeed transformed by
strong individual personalities." "The technique," he adds,
"was simply the starting point and basis. . . ." Still more
outspoken is Luigi Dallapiccola, whose affiliation with the
twelve-tone method is particularly interesting, as he en-
deavours to instil into its mechanism a touch of Latin
melodiousness. Dallapiccola says: "Today, more than ever
before, I am trying ... to explore all the possibilities of
the system and to work patiently towards its clarification,
by means of sensibility and not of theory. The definite
6Josef Rufer, Composition with Twelve Notes, Rockliff, London,
1954, and Macmillan, New York, 1954.
 72 / Tonality in Modern Music
rules of this new language which, like any other lan-
. . .

guage, a living thing, will only be determined a pos-

is

teriori; they will be codified in the future by theoreticians

on the basis of what creative artists have actually done in
their works." But most unequivocal is the position stated
by two other adepts, Matyas Seiber and Richard Hoffman.
Seiber says: ". orthodox twelve-tone composers and
. .

is not 'proper' twelve-note

theoreticians will say that this
music. That seems to me not ofi the least importance at
the moment; the only thing that interests me is whether I
succeeded in writing some real music" While Hoffmann
significantly the —
youngest of the twelve even declares:
". . . composer should not emulate the
the inexperienced
'sophistic' twelve-note composer, who would have little
if anything at all —
to say if his powers of invention were
not goaded on by complicated tables of permutations of
the series. In fact the over-emphasis on the logic and
'magic powers' which certain faithful adherents of this
kind of composition have introduced into it has exceeded
all bounds." Certainly, words like these require little com-

ment.
Though these quotations would suffice to demonstrate
the general direction towards which the recent twelve-tone
evolution tends, two more utterances may be added as they
are of particular interest in the light of our later deduc-
tions. One is by Humphrey Searle, who also must be
credited with the impressive rendering into English of
Rufer's complex study. He declares that in his own sonata
he wished "to combine Liszt's idea of 'thematic transfor-
mation' with Schoenberg's practice. The form is similar to
that of Liszt's sonata. ." Winfried Zillig, finally, says:
. .

"I am coming more and more toward the mysterious and

compulsive connexions with tonality ." obviously
. . —
connexions of his own twelve-tone music with tonality.
No doubt all this points to an undeniable clash between
the older and newer concept of twelve-tone music. Yet the
nonpartisan observer must be careful not to condemn
either side. There must have been strong and genuinely
artistic impulses at work which brought twelve-tone music
to life and made it such a widespread force in the music
 Atonality / 73
of our time. But no no less genuine must have
less strong,
been the impulses which seem to drive twelve-tone
music out of its own shell.
What is the explanation for this astounding process
whereby "composition with twelve tones" not only changes
its character but even points to something which is almost

opposite to its own nature? Whereby composers who ac-

tually do not practise this technique still like to call them-
selves twelve-tone composers? Perhaps the following pages,
though they are directed towards quite different problems,
will include some answers to the present questions.
 PART THREE
PANTONALITY
Chapter 1

Bitonality and Polytonalily

Atonality and twelve-tone composition characterize

only a specific and fairly small part of the creative output
through which the recent musical evolution has manifested
itself. A
great number of composers did not wish to ex-
press themselves in atonal structures but took over and
further developed that new concept of tonality which De-
bussy had initiated. This remark, however, should by no
means be interpreted to signify that the composers outside
the atonal and twelve-tone camp were simply imitators of
Debussy's style and idiom. It is meant merely to imply
that they followed, consciously or instinctively, the direc-
tion to which Debussy had pointed in his endeavour to
change that state of harmonic tonality which had char-
acterized the classical period.
The search for a new musical style was not carried on
solely by the two great antipodes, Debussy and Schoen-
berg. There were a few others who, though their influence
did not prove so far-reaching, nevertheless contributed
greatly to the evolution. One eminent figure in this respect,
already mentioned in our deductions, was Alexander
Scriabin. Scriabin's artistic path was somewhat blocked
by inner and outer His aesthetic vision and the
obstacles.
practical realization of his musical ideas were not as bal-
anced, clear and unified as were those of Debussy, nor as
definite, bold and revolutionary as Schoenberg's work. Yet
Scriabin's influence on both of these composers and on the
whole musical world cannot be overlooked. Though his
talents were somewhat dissipated, he was still more than a
mere experimenter. In some of his most mature works he
developed musical structures of real strength and beauty
which have not yet been fully exploited. In the present in-
tensified search for the origins of the new musical style
Scriabin's music may still experience a revival.
77
 78 / Tonality in Modern Music
Another kind of pioneer, the humble and venerable
Czech composer Leos Janacek, should not be forgotten in
this connexion. As a Moravian schoolteacher somewhat
aloof from the larger musical centres of the world, Janacek
nevertheless, through several theoretical publications and
still more through his inspired and highly individual com-

positional work, helped to round out the image of modern

music which during his lifetime had begun to assume ever
wider significance. He was able to instil a human impulse
which is not very often encountered in modern music into
his harmonically and rhythmically new fabric. Much of his
music awaits discovery by wider circles.
As for Debussy, apart from that idea of melodic tonality
which he introduced, there is also another, more specific
compositional device observable in his music, to which we
already referred briefly. It is the use of harmonies brought
about by a combination of two or more triads or, more
generally, of several overtone complexes. Sporadically
such bitonality is already encountered in the works of
Strauss and Mahler or, for that matter, of Wagner and
Chopin, and can even be traced as far back as Beethoven. 1
But in the music of Debussy it emerges as a regular feature
and forms the beginning of a far-reaching development.
For in contrast to atonal chords which on the surface may
appear more audacious but do not represent true musical
organisms, those bitonal or tritonal harmonies include the
truly revolutionary and positive element of several simul-
taneously sounding tonics. And these multiple tonics first —
only tonics in the vertical sense —
often become in the evo-
lution after Debussy full horizontal tonics, that is, tonics
creating tonality, creating form. Thus a state of simultaneous
tonalities —
emerges tonalities that cross, overlap, com-
plement or even oppose each other (not merely contra-
puntally juxtaposed tonalities in the sense of "polytonality"
a la Strawinsky or Milhaud, about which we shall speak
presently). For in those bitonal harmonies the ear instinc-
tively singles out the tonics, and connects each of them to
any successive phrase with which they can enter into a

1 See footnote on p. 45.

 Pantonality / 79

tonically meaningful relationship. This phrase may be

found in the same voice or in a different voice. Moreover,
the tonality by which the connexion is perceived may be
either harmonic or (perhaps even more often) melodic
tonality. In this way a musical language may develop, en-
livened by diverse tonical sub-groups within one design,
without the whole group necessarily resting on a tonical
—
fundament in the classical sense in fact, often resting on
no fundament at all. Accordingly, it is not surprising that
in the beginning of the modern development such har-
monies were simply labelled atonal, although they are not
only not atonal but express in their multitonicality almost
the opposite principle.
Before elaborating further on this idea we may insert a
few remarks on that other type of construction mentioned
before, which is usually subsumed under the name of poly-
tonality. The very term polytonality, which, by the way,
seems hardly a fitting expression for the rather primitive
ideait signifies, was introduced to denote a compositional

method where two musical lines which are in different keys

appear contrapuntally juxtaposed. The main weakness of
the term, therefore, lies in that it conceives tonality as
identical with key rather than in its wider aspect as a
The idea emerged in
tonically unified group. the first stages
of modern music, probably from a kind of epater-les-
bourgeois spirit, although there may
have been some
also
more was used by
serious impulse involved. Polytonality
Busoni, Strawinsky, Casella, Milhaud and others, mainly
when a touch of grotesque humour was intended. 2 None
of these composers made polytonality his exclusive or even
his regular medium of expression. They applied it merely
for certain specific effects. In fact, the whole idea had no
continuation in the evolution.
2However, Mozart already used polytonality in a composition
Ein musikalischer Spass (A Musical Jest).
entitled, significantly,
In fact, a polytonal formation is found as far back as the sixteenth
century in a composition by Hans Newsidler (see the Harvard
Dictionary of Music under "Polytonality").
Chapter 2

Fluctuating Harmonies

Approaching the concept of pantonality and thus ar-

riving at the core of our inquiry,we may as a point of de-
parture restate our words on the effect of bitonality:
". . in those bitonal harmonies the ear instinctively
. .

singles out the tonics, and connects each of them to any

successive phrase with which they can enter into a tonically
meaningful relationship." In the previous context, however,
this description referred merely to a type of composi-
tional formation, which became apparent in those com-
paratively primitive bitonal or tritonal harmonies found in
the Debussy example. Later, however, when multiple har-
monies of a more complex nature emerged in modern
composition, not only vertical chord combinations but
also elaborate horizontal combinations of diverse tonalities
were the organic consequence. And these more compli-
cated configurations express a principle distinctly different
from that which we previously described as atonal.
As an illustration of what is meant we may turn to Ex.
15a in which the initial group from one of the author's
compositions is quoted. 1 At first glance these bars may
look just like any atonal design. On closer examination,
however, one easily recognizes that this is a blending of
several tonically based ideas —
a blending, not a clash of
keys as in polytonality. The phrase marked (I) is obvi-
ously based on C-sharp; the phrase (II) on A; while the
1 With regard to this and a few other examples taken from the
author's own compositional work the reader is urged most kindly
to avoid the misconception that they were singled out as sup-
posedly representing the most effective embodiment of the phenom-
ena in question. But rather than operate in other living com-
posers' realms as in an analytical laboratory, the author thought
it more just in certain instances to use, though reluctantly, a few

measures from his own compositions. In any case, to comprehend

the full implication of the trend described, the reader will have to
search through a considerable body of contemporary literature.

80
 Pantonality / 81

tonical designation of the phrase (III), which later leads

to a kind of D minor, is —
not clear it may be B or E. Yet
it is certainly a tonal, not an atonal idea. It is impossible

to determine which of these three tonical phrases is the

fundamental one (except for the first few measures when
phrase (I) sounds alone), especially since harmonic and
melodic tonalities are here mixed. Phrase (I) for instance,
is only in a harmonic sense based on C-sharp as a tonic,

as stated above; but at the same time it supports the little

figureD— C —A—G— C, with D
as a tonic in the melodic
sense. And the question of which tonic is the fundamental
one, depends simply on which one the ear singles out as
the main pillar at any given moment. In fact, the tonical
basis will fluctuate throughout the whole group. But it does
remain tonical despite the fluctuating quality.
Here a point of fundamental importance should be
noted. Though the various phrases just described represent
independent tonical lines, they are not placed at random
one beneath the other, but blend into one unit. In fact,
they are held together by a kind of consonant relationship.
For instance, in bar 3 the A minor phrase in the lowest
—A— —
part, B-flat C A, blends consonantly with the
phrase D C— —A— — G C above it. Or: the B-natural in
the soprano (bars 7 and 8) combines harmonically with
the C-sharp and G-sharp under it. Thus the design, though
spreading freely in various directions, still does not lose
its tonical atmosphere.

In general, because of this over-all tonical atmosphere,

the ear will connect any fitting notes or particles to tonical
or quasitonical units. In this sense the low B-flat in bars 7
and 8, representing remainders from phrase (II), will be
connected to the C and A
above it, and thus suffice to re-
call the full thematic meaning of phrase (II). Also when
the line developed from phrase (III) concludes in D
minor
(bar 10), the ear cannot help but relate this D to the D
which sounded in the opening chord of the piece and since
—
then continued at the beginning of every bar in spite of
all the various tonalities in between.

The idea here under discussion may become all the

clearer if we try to demonstrate it in a comparatively
 82 / Tonality in Modern Music
simple, yet beautifully lucid, example. It is taken from the
Second Piano Sonata ("Concord") by the American com-
poser Charles Ives. The two groups quoted (Ex. 10b and
Ex. 10c) represent the beginning and the end of the so-
nata's last movement (Thoreau).
Turning first to Ex. 10c, there can be little doubt that,
at least in its first part, the C major harmony forms a kind
of tonic. However, we do not hear a pure C major, but a
C major under which an organ point on A is heard and —
this bitonicality is maintained throughout the
steadily
whole group. Before the conclusion, then, the A
is used to

introduce an atonal phrase recalling the opening bars of

the movement (as seen in Ex. 10b). The phrase ends on
C- sharp (at the pp mark), where, with the A and the fol-
lowing G in the bass, it forms a kind of intermediary
dominant announcing the D minor chords which enter
presently in the higher voices. Yet while all this develops,
and C-sharp in the soprano, the original
in spite of the
tonic on C-natural is still reiterated in the basso continuo.
Only finally a G in the bass replaces the C (and A) as a
root. Simultaneously another quasitonical phrase, a kind
of B minor, emerges in the middle voices. This B minor
phrase of utter tenderness leads, atonally as it were, to a
concluding C-sharp. Yet through all these tonalities (and
atonalities) the original tonical basis —
C-major with an
underlying A —
sounds through. The last audible harmony
— — —
(G D C-sharp A) is simply the dominant of C major
with an added atonal C-sharp. But now note the following,
through which alone the meaning of the whole design be-
comes understandable: in a technical and acoustical sense
it would be quite logical to let a C major chord follow as

a conclusion of the piece (one should try this out on the

piano), though admittedly from a musical-artistic point of
view it would be a sin even to think of such a "solution"
through which the poetry of the design would be irrevo-
cably destroyed.
On the basis of Jhe foregoing and again considering the
structural idea underlying the whole group, we repeat our
initial assumption: C major forms, at least before the end,
a kind of superior, if latent, tonic which is expressed in a
 Pantonality / 83

final cadence: VI (A), followed by II (D), followed by

V —
(G), followed by nothing, since the expected conclud-
ing C is no longer audible. In addition, and in the midst of
all this, however, a B minor harmony and some atonal

phrases leading to a most tender, yet profound, conclusion

on C-sharp, develop a specific atmosphere of oscillating
tonical relationships.
To sum up: inthis design no unequivocal tonality ac-
tually reigns. For though, viewed from the context of the
last group, C seemed to become the over-all tonic, ex-
pressed through the "cadence," a tonical A
still introduces

the group emphatically in the bass. And this assumes all

the more importance, for not only this last movement, but
also the first movement, begins with the same A
(as one
can see from a glance at the score). Thus we have: C and
A as over-all tonics, G as the last audible root, further-
more the harmonies of B and D, not forgetting the atonal
phrases in between, concluding on C-sharp (which, by the
way, in its harmonic context should be understood as D-
flat). And all these tonics and harmonies overlap, sound-
ing almost simultaneously, like rays reflected from a set of
mirrors —truly this is "pantonality."
Thus both the Ives example and the preceding one re-
veal a tonal state that cannot be readily tabulated, yet
which has a clear flavour of tonality as such.
To render this provisional picture of the new structural
state in question more comprehensible, it should be
pointed out that the material from which the groups
quoted are formed is in its detail atonal, indeed truly ato-
nal, not merely tonal spiced with discords. Yet this atonal
detail is so distributed that the groups as a whole evoke an
atmosphere that expresses neither atonality nor tonality
but a more complex structural condition, a multitonal (or
to expand this term to our own concept) a pantonal state.
Here we have reached the nerve centre of our problem.
There are two types of musical lines to be found in music,
which at first glance might seem to be of the same order,
that is, both seem to be atonal. Yet of these two types, the
one is conceived in a spirit of unconditional tonical non-
relationship, while the other is conceived in a spirit of, so
 84 / Tonality in Modern Music
to speak, indirect tonality —
that is, tonality which does not
appear on the surface but is created by the ear singling out
hidden relationships between various points of a melodic
or contrapuntal web.
Of course, two small quotations can hardly give more
than a slight intimation of a new category of structural
formation. Yet if the reader will pursue the idea through-
out numerous examples from contemporary literature in
which similar formations, though technically a thousand-
fold varied, can be observed, he will realize that here a
new concept of harmony arises. To clarify this decisive
part of our investigation, a few explanations must be in-
serted in which the specific observations emerging from
the examples above may be widened to a more general
outlook.

Moving Tonics
"Harmony" as a musical term has usually been attrib-
—
uted to a chord either an actual chord or an expanded
chordal entity. Even when understood in its functional
quality within a harmonic progression as a "degree," and
comprehended as an underlying pillar for a whole group,
harmony itself has remained, if not a static, at any rate a
self-contained conception, either centred on its (audible
or implied) fundamental note, as in classical music, or
without such a foundation, as is often the case in the
modern era. Of course, progression from one harmony to
another was always one of the main factors of motion in
music. But in the style envisaged here, not only harmonic
progression, but harmony itself, often becomes a fluctuat-
ing phenomenon, a phenomenon in motion. It is not ex-
pressed through a chord, or even a group of chords, but
rather through the relationship between various chordal
entities, indeed, through a full musical design. In such a
design there will always be a number of single notes,
chords, or particles of chords, or even wider phrases that
will, for smaller or larger stretches, assume the (transi-
tory) role of a tonic. Some tonics may unify only a minute
figure but others may reach into subsequent phrases. Sup-
pose, for instance, that in a chordal group a certain note
 Pantonality / 85

has been understood as a tonic, whereupon a new group

enters, and thatin relationship to this new group another
note of the group assumes more weight. Then the ear
first

will instinctively accept this second note as a new tonic. In

other words: the tonic within the first group will be shifted,
will move as it were, to another note.
This concept, then, of movable tonics, of fluctuating
harmonies is the point of departure for the understanding
of the phenomenon of "pantonality." In order, however,
to make its nature more clearly visible we may demarcate
the principle here involved from other concepts, from
which it must be strictly separated if misconceptions are
to be avoided.

1. Tonal centre. Analysts of modern music from De-

bussy on have become reluctant to single out harmonic
successions but rather try to explain the harmonic design
by pointing to certain groups and harmonic pivots as tonal
centres. And this terminology, a natural consequence of
the new idiom, was often more pertinent than the previous
tabulations of single chords. Yet it was somewhat of an
over-simplification, since a whole range of important
features thus eluded observation. But the term is even less
appropriate to signify the new and more complex struc-
tural phenomena described in our present deductions. For
the fact that tonics focus no longer on a note or a chord
but on a whole design, tells only half the story. The sec-
ond, more significant half is based on the fact that in these
centres the tonics themselves fluctuate, indeed, oscillate be-
tween different points within a group.

2. Extended {or expanded) tonality. Neither should pan-

tonality be understood as merely identical with even a
fairly outspoken degree of what is usually referred to as
"extended tonality." For this latter term characterizes a
state where one basic tonality still prevails, in spite of vari-
ous melodic and harmonic figurations which may have
been added. The characteristic attribute of pantonality, on
the other hand, through which it becomes a truly new con-
cept and not merely an increased expression of classical
 86 / Tonality in Modern Music
tonality, is the phenomenon of "movable tonics," that is,

a structural state in which several tonics exert their gravi-

tational pull simultaneously, counteractingly as it were, re-
gardless of whether any of the various tonics ultimately
becomes the concluding one. To keep the two concepts
apart is all the more important as in recent investigations
the attempt has been made to explain all modern music,
even its truly atonal part, more or less as a kind of camou-
flaged tonality. The logic behind these attempts was that
the analysts felt the force of pantonality emerging every-
where in modern production. Since, however, this force
had not yet been defined, they tried to explain any novel
structure as a quasi-hidden, sometimes perhaps distorted,
tonality. The problem is not a simple one, for it is true that
historically speaking "extended tonality" was the prede-
cessor of pantonality into which it has finally been trans-
formed. And, as in all artistic evolution, there is in practice
no strict date and demarcation, where one can say: here
extended tonality ends and pantonality begins. Yet to dis-
tinguish between the principles of the two is essential.

3. Undefined This concept, which sometimes

tonality.
became apparent music, is closely related
in post-classical
to extended tonality. Even in the music of Strauss, Mahler,
Sibelius and others there are often sections which are de-
cidedly tonal, although their actual key relationship can-
not be determined. They float in the realm of several keys
without deciding, as it were, upon one concrete tonic. Yet
they are very far from that other state to which our present
explanations point and in which diverse tonics intertwine
and radiate, spreading their influence in all directions.

4. Tonality. The demarcation between pantonality and

simple tonality was the core of our preceding deductions.
Here the one important fact should be recalled that when-
ever tonics are mentioned throughout our whole presenta-
tion, they are invariably meant to include equally tonics of
the harmonic and of the melodic type of tonality. That
both these different types can now be applied alternately,
in addition to the diverse features described above, war-
 Pantonality / 87
rants the extensive compass of the structural possibilities
inherent in pantonality.

5. Atonality. No less important is a last feature which

has already been indicated but which now should be
stressed particularly. It is the fact that in the pantonal pic-
ture much of the atonal fabric, many of the melodic figura-
tions and chordal combinations of atonality —
indeed, of
atonality, not of simple chromaticism —
can be and usually
are included. Yet the significant point is that the composer
still does not use develop an atonal picture
this material to
in the sense of the original twelve-tone technique, but
rather uses the atonal figurations to form those new con-
structions just described in which a diversity of tonical
impulses elevates the atonal shapes to a design of uninter-
rupted coherence.
Atonal tonality, fluctuating harmonies, movable tonics,
tonics of different types —
a new compositional category,
pantonality, is in the making.
Chapter 3

Specific Facets
of Pantonality

In the foregoing chapter an attempt was made to give

an initial idea of the conditions characterizing the concept
we call pantonality. Yet to obtain a clearer picture of the
various problems involved it will be necessary to view the
subject from several angles.

Consonance and Dissonance

There the question of how in the realm of pan-
is first

tonality the problem of consonance and dissonance is

treated, that eternal problem about which aestheticians
speak so much and say so little. 1
1 A discussion, on a musicological level, of the consonance-
dissonance phenomenon from its on would require a study
origin
in itself which cannot be attempted here. Two main points, how-
ever, which lie at the centre of the problem may be recalled.
First, the fact that the intervals formed by the first three over-
tones (octave, fifth, third) and their inversions are as consonances
separated from all other intervals felt to be dissonances. An ex-
planation of this never fully clarified feature was attempted in a
previous chapter (see p. 27).
Secondly, the fact that a gradation of dissonances was never
included in the framework of musical theory. Such a gradation
was recently attempted but in this author's opinion hardly achieved
in Paul Hindemith's elaborate study Craft of Musical Composition.
The famous composer set himself the task of constructing a
musical chart by means of which every thinkable chord combina-
tion of any style or time (past, present or future) could be
tabulated as to its place and value. But in his endeavour not to
lose himself in the infinite —
is music, however, not infinite? he —
regards every chord, even every simple interval, as an unequivocal
phenomenon, the musical meaning of which having been estab-
lished once and for all by its acoustical properties. However, in
music, in contrast to acoustics, intervals and chords have ever-
varying, rather than fixed, static meanings. To quote a most
elementary example: a fourth which Hindemith classifies as an un-
equivocal consonance (the "second best" in his gradation of values)

88
 Pantonality / 89

Off-hand, one might surmise, since pantonality accord-

ing to our previous description points away from the
classical tonal concept, that the distinction between conso-
nance and dissonance would either be abolished altogether
(as it was or, if the distinction were retained,
in atonality) ;

that the borderline between consonances and dissonances

would be shifted to include more intervals in the consonant
realm. Yet, logical as these questions may appear, they
must be differently formulated if they are to lead to a fruit-
ful conclusion.
As a point of departure, a fact may be recalled which
was already mentioned on a previous occasion: namely,
that with the beginning of the atonal development the be-
a kind of interchangeability of consonances and dis-
lief in
sonances gained popularity. Schoenberg initiated the idea
which quickly spread among his adherents. But even many
composers who did not actually follow his footsteps, un-
hesitatingly accepted the theory which seemed so enticing.
At the time of the dawn of the modern idiom such a host
of new harmonic effects sprang up —
effects which then
seemed new and exciting but which today often appear
tame, if not cheap —
that almost every composer consid-
ered himself a radical and proudly accepted any new,
"revolutionary" doctrine — at least theoretically. The prac-
however, proved otherwise. The reaction of
tical evolution,
our ears to the fundamental antagonism between conso-
nance and dissonance has not changed one iota. What has
changed is merely the aesthetic interest. The modern corn-

is in music a consonance only if the texture within

practical
which appears makes it understood as an inversion of a fifth
it

(through which its upper note becomes the root). All these are
long recognized facts of which the composer Hindemith is natur-
ally well aware. Nevertheless, he builds his musical cartography
of "good" and "bad" intervals and chords on such a problematic
evaluation, centring each chord on a rigid, unchangeable root,
regardless of its role within the design. Consequently, we find in
his theory not the faintest trace of all those complex phenomena
around which a great part of modern musical construction re-
volves: bitonality, crossing tonalities, pantonality —
and, for that
matter, quite logically not even of atonality, which he somewhat
too simply dismisses as a bluff or lack of invention.
 90 / Tonality in Modern Music
poser wants to make use of an incomparably larger amount
of dissonances than his classical predecessor and also to
change the way of their application. And together with the
increase of dissonances he further wants to reduce the use of
consonances, in fact, to do away with certain consonances,
such as triads or the like, almost entirely. But this is the
result of a new aesthetic approach rather than a new
acoustic evaluation. The atonalists say that in an environ-
ment of modern harmonies consonances cannot be toler-
ated since they would here sound just as dissonant as
dissonances in the old style. This, of course, is a somewhat
inverted way of putting it. Consonances do not sound as
dissonances in the atonal idiom but merely as alien, and
therefore as stylistically disturbing elements in an other-
wise homogeneous fabric.
Here it is important not to forget that dissonances and
discords are not identical. Dissonance is a musical, while
discord is an acoustical, phenomenon. Dissonance simply
points to a state of tension. It can sometimes be a dis-
cordant, that is, an offending sound, but just as often
have a "beautiful," a pleasing effect. This whole question
depends chiefly on the composer's intention and art of
phrasing. Dissonances will not sound discordant if they
appear as parts of a tonical construction, even a complex
multitonal construction; and if the design within which
they come into being is based on a truly thematic idea, not
merely on the accumulation of motivic artifices. The para-
mount importance of the thematic point will become par-
ticularly clear in the remaining examples of our analysis.
Returning to the idea of dissonance, there is no doubt
that its nature has not changed. What has changed is
merely what the composer wishes to say. This author re-
members how some thirty years ago he was told by Alban
— —
Berg and the words still ring in his ears that in a few
decades "our music will sound as natural and simple as
Mozart's sounds today." The decades have passed and
Berg's music has held its place but his words have not come
true. Because his music was from the beginning not meant
to be like Mozart's but was intended to reflect the tense ex-
cesses and, in fact, morbidity of our age. This difference
 Pantonality / 91

in intention is in itself not a criterion of a greater or lesser

artisticvalue or, to be perhaps more exact, of a greater or

lesser artistic mastery. And as for Berg, he managed —
and
this points to his greatness — to blend his and his time's
tendency towards excess and conflict with an immanent
longing for beauty and harmony. In the music of other
composers close to him the negative forces were much less
challenged.
Coming back to pantonality and its relation to the same
problem, it is thus not the number of dissonances that
counts but the role which the dissonant harmonies play in
the compositional design. In the music of our time, what-
ever its individual style, there will be long stretches where
true consonances hardly appear. Yet there is a basic differ-
ence. In the specific atonal sphere the dissonances appear
without being identified as dissonances —
as though there
were no tension, no "longing to be resolved" inherent in
them. But in the "pantonal" musical utterances of our
time, which at their face value may appear just as full of
dissonance as any atonal design, we see quite a different
tendency.
To demonstrate the nature of these different musical at-
mospheres we may turn to Ex. 6 and Ex. 7 and compare
the two compositional pictures, the first example tending
towards the pantonal, the second towards the atonal con-
cept.
In Ex. 6 the opening group of the third movement from
Bela Bartok's Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta is
quoted. Trying to classify the first harmony in this design,
——
we come across the combination F-sharp B F in bar 4
(to which some passing notes from the timpani-glissando
should be added). This certainly does not sound like an
utterance to which any vestige of tonality could be at-
tributed. However, the B soon turns out to be a suspension
which in the following bars is resolved into C, while the F
falls to E (bar 6) where the theme starts in the viola. Thus
the basic harmony F-sharp ——
C E is established, of which
F-sharp unquestionably the root. This is shown trans-
is

parently by the viola theme which is melodically centred

on C-sharp rather than on C. The C, though, is continued
 92 / Tonality in Modern Music
in the timpani (and supported an octave lower by the
double bass), yet it appears in this whole context and
through the delicate instrumentation merely as a beauti-
fully dissonant auxiliary note.
The which this structure grew now be-
principle through
comes based on constant tensions, i.e. disso-
clear. It is
nances which, however, are constantly resolved yet
whenever a tension seems to abate, a new dissonance is
—
again at work.
The principle continues. In bar 9 the first group ends.
Here the viola group dwells on E, the tone from which it
started. The composer uses this point of repose to let the
timpani and xylophone, as in an interspersed flash, sound
the initial dissonance (F-sharp ——
B F) again. Immedi-
ately, however, the B is once more resolved into C. At
this moment the second violin enters on an emphatic
G-sharp, taking over the main melody from the viola. The
basic harmony is now: F-sharp ———
C E G-sharp, or in
other words, the original chord of the seventh is expanded
to a chord of the ninth. In bar 13a new point of repose is
reached with the main melody dwelling on B, which the
composer uses to interpolate the initial dissonance once
more. (Here the timpani can spare the B which is now
heard in the violin.
Thus this music presents an over-all picture of uninter-
rupted dissonances, of which the most ardent atonalist
could not wish more. This becomes all the clearer when,
by looking at the example, one further realizes that the
detail of the melodic line which connects the corner notes
is not only in the chromatic (rather than in the diatonic)

vein, but itself consists almost entirely of additional, very

—
emphatic dissonances. Yet and this is fundamental
these dissonances are not thrown into the design, as though
no consonances existed in music. For because of the cur-
vature of the melodic line all these dissonances appear, as
it were, conscious that it is their destiny to be resolved

even if the resolving note itself becomes immediately a

new dissonance, or even if the resolution never takes place
at all.

Before comparing this structure with a counterpart from

 Pantonality / 93

the atonal realm, a brief digression is in order so that we

may examine precisely whether and how the phenomenon
of "moving tonics," previously described as one of the
characteristics of the pantonal concept, can be observed in
the Bartok example. was pointed out that here F-sharp
It

represents the foremost tonic, from which as a basis the

leading harmonies are developed. One could well call F-
sharp the tonal centre of the group. However, as the har-
monic combination in the first bars consists of F-sharp
B — F, changing to F-sharp — C— F, it cannot be avoided
that tonical relationships uniting F-sharpand B as well as
C and F will sound through. And the systematic transpar-
ency of this continuing pattern leaves no doubt that this
was the effect the composer intended. The F-sharp, es-
pecially, oscillates beautifully between being the tonical
basis of the melodic-harmonic main course and, at other
—
moments, the overtone of the B a moving tonic in the
truest sense.
How different is the structural concept and, indeed, the
innermost spirit of the design in the next example (Ex.
7) Here the opening group from No. 1 of Anton Webern's
!

Five Movements for String Quartet, op. 5, is quoted. This

work was written before the twelve-tone era, yet it repre-
sents an almost perfect example of atonality in music. 2
The piece starts like a signal with two soaring intervals
in fortissimo: a minor ninth, notated as an augmented oc-
tave (C —
C-sharp) followed by a major seventh (F E). —
The E is three times emphatically repeated, now accom-
panied by a chord. This chord has a thematic rather than a
harmonic meaning. In its combination of C-sharp C —
2As stated on several occasions, our purpose in introducing any
example for analytical examination is never aesthetic adjudication.
What is to be demonstrated is merely the antagonism of the
various trends contained in the compositions in question —
trends
which leave their imprint on the musical picture of our age. Of
course, in a higher sense, no artistic explanation can and should
ever be entirely neutral. Thus it is unavoidable that certain
nuances will reveal where in this polarity of tendencies the
author's sympathies lie. This, however, does not prevent him from
expressing his appreciation of the musical and technical qualities
in works such as the present example.
 94 / Tonality in Modern Music
F —E, it expresses the first two motifs, now in chordal
contraction. Then a melodic sequence to the first bars
(shaped as a kind of contrary motion to the preceding in-
tervals) is sounded in the first violin. These figures are
accompanied by chords in the lower voices. In bar 3 the
second violin plays a canonic imitation to the first violin's
passage (now with changed rhythmical accentuation).
This canonic imitation enters on E, while at the same
moment the first violin has D-sharp, thus here too express-
ing a major seventh. The entrance on the motivic interval,
however, is the only "harmonic" connexion between the
two canonic voices. Apart from this motivic nuance the
intervals formed by the encounter of the two canonic lines
are left entirely tochance. In two or three instances they
are consonances, in all others violent dissonances. This in

itself would not matter. But what, perhaps, is problematici-

cal in this design, is the fact that there is no structural idea
behind this interplay. The dissonances do not point to any
consonances, and the few consonances are haphazardly
brought about by canonic coincidence. Yet the canonic
lines are not invented in such a way as to insure a struc-
ture which would make the distribution of dissonances and
consonances an intentional pattern. The composer simply
decided to imitate the leading voice somewhere and the
"canon" came into being. The accompanying chords in
the lower voices are —
harmonically speaking in the same —
random vein, adding nothing to the compelling quality of
the design.
In the next bar another canon in miniature follows, this
time in four voices, where each voice enters a minor ninth
below the other. But here too, as throughout the whole
piece, the interplay between dissonance and consonance,
even in the transformed way seen in the Bartok example,
is missing. And with it any vestige of tonical relationship.

Thus all the structural wonders displayed in the score re-

main formalistic. Yet there cannot be any doubt that all
this is obviously the composer's clear idea and intention.
A musician of Webern's skill could have created an en-
tirely different picture, had he so wished. What he strove
to delineate was a musical world in which "emotion" was
 Pantonality / 95

expressed merely by colours and dynamic shades, while

any relationship binding the lines together (apart from
—
motivic reiteration) was avoided thus a world of tonical
non-relationship: atonality.

Tonality Through Pitches

An architectural device which is frequently used within
the stylistic concept of pantonality and which there attains
specific significance, may be called tonality through pitches.
Now in the widest sense every kind of tonality is based
on pitches, for tonality is a phenomenon creating struc-
tural units by centring a phrase, a group or a whole piece
on a basic note from which the group usually begins, with
which it ends and to which the ear relates each part of it.
And since the compositional essence of a note is its pitch,
one can based on pitches. However,
state that tonality is
this statement is more true with regard to melodic than
harmonic tonality. For harmonic tonality, though also
based on tonical pitch, nevertheless operates through the
inevitability of harmonic progression forcing a line to re-
turn to the tonic rather than through the binding strength
of the tonical pitch itself. And we know that in harmonic
tonality a group in C can conclude on G or E, or even on
an independent "deceptive tonice" just as effectively as on
C itself.

In melodic tonality the tonical force is, quite naturally,

more directly bound to the recurrence of the tonical pitch,
as was shown in the Biblical example quoted in Part One.
Yet even these "melodic tonics" of old folklore can
change, can modulate, without depriving the tune of its
tonical flavour. The reader will easily find many instances
of this type of "melodic tonality with changing tonics" in
almost any collection of oriental folk music. And in
modern music, from Debussy on, owing to an incom-
parably more complex design, these instances increase in
frequency.
To this modern type of "tonality through pitches" we
must now by the fact that pitches
turn. It is characterized
which by repetition and resumption become accented
corner notes in the compositional course can by this very
 96 / Tonality in Modern Music
quality assume a quasi-tonical role, that is, can help a
group appear as a unit and can thus create form, even if
the design of the group points to a different tonical path
3
or to no basis at all.

For these instances the examples quotedin the foregoing

chapter may serve as illustrations. In the Bartok exampfe
(Ex. 6) the F-sharp, as was demonstrated above, retains
a kind of tonical preponderance within the multitonical
design and through this the unity of the group is brought
about. But this unity is intensified by the particular con-
struction in which a certain arrangement of pitches is sev-
eral times reiterated. The constant and
return of the high F
B above a ground of F-sharp and C, regardless of how the
actual melodic line has proceeded in the meantime, renders
the grouping of the whole section particularly transparent
through the force of the ceaselessly returning pitches them-
selves; and this despite the fact that some of the notes in
question have at certain moments also tonical functions.
The clinking of the high xylophone which returns over and
over again and which the composer is very careful never
to transpose to another pitch, keeps the impression of
unity very much alive, especially since always occurs at
it

decisive points, usually when one sub-group is about to be

succeeded by another. If one looks at this design with a

sense of form, one would like to predict that the move-
—
ment will end with the same effect which, indeed, is ac-
tually the case.
If the Bartok example shows the tonical effect of iden-
tical pitches that complement the fluctuation of tonalities,
the Webern example same phenomenon as a
presents the
sovereign, no impressive feature. For here, in the
less
atonal environment, no ordinary tonalities support the
quasi-tonical effect of these pitches. In fact, the whole first
movement of Webern's quartet is in a sense architecturally
held together by these identical pitches. A
very subtle ap-
plication of this phenomenon of "tonality through pitches"
binds even the first group (bars 1 —
6) together. For the
3 Froma different angle and pointing to different effects, a related
phenomenon is described under the heading "identical pitch" in

the author's The Thematic Process in Music.

 Pantonality / 97

emphatic opening through the fortissimo C —C-sharp,

finds a counterpart in the bass of the last bars of the
group, which express the reversion, C-sharp C, in pianis- —
simo but no less emphatically. Were the C-sharp C trans- —
posed to a different pitch, no one would think even
remotely of implying a relationship between the ending of
the group and its beginning. But through the sustained
pitch a unification, or at least an intimation of it, will not
escape a musical listener. That this subtle effect was in-
tended by the composer is proved by still more evidence.
When two measures later the second theme enters (Ex.
7b), the most characteristic interval of the rising cantando
—
phrase is again C-sharp C. But the most emphatic effect
of tonical pitch is seen in the concluding group of the piece
(Ex. 7c), where the constant C —
C-sharp (see brackets)
runs through the whole design. Here we see an application of
the phenomenon in its truest form. Were one to ask whether
this is not simply a motivic recurrence, so common in
any musical style, would be that naturally
the answer
it is a motivic recurrence, but one of a particular qual-

ity. For if such a motivic recurrence appears, for instance,

in a classical piece, it is integrated into the harmonic de-

sign which returns to the original tonic. But here, in the
atonal realm, the motif returns to its original pitch not by
reason of a unifying tonic, but in spite of the lack of it.
And this emphatic return of the motif at its original pitch
creates the effect of an architectural unity somewhat remi-
niscent of the standard tonical recurrence. Then, however,
as a typical feature of Webern the atonalist, a last, slightly
strange effect is added. As though wishing not to endanger
the atonal atmosphere by even a vestige of "tonicality"
brought about by motivic pitches, a pizzicato chord in
pianissimo of different pitch is annexed, through which the
hard-won quasi-tonical unity is annulled.
Returning to the phenomenon
of tonality through
pitches, the author nature has been sufficiently
hopes its
described in the foregoing example. However, it should
still be emphasized that such "tonical pitch" is not just an

occasional, a rare occurrence in modern music, but one of

its basic, most characteristic features — in fact, one of the
 98 / Tonality in Modern Music
pillars of modern formation. Every modern
structural
composer is aware of it and applies it frequently. In the
modern idiom a piece or a group in C, for instance, is
very often not centred on the C harmony but on C G-flat —
— C. If from there it progresses in its harmonic texture to
various harmonies, and if only it finally returns to the C
G-flat — C with which it started, the listener will easily and
unhesitatingly conceive the whole group as a quasi-tonical
unit, notwithstanding the fact that no chords of the C key,
and still less of the dominant, were included.
However, it should also be understood that "tonality
through pitches" is usually not the only structural idea
through which a musical group is unified. It often merely
forms one of the contributing factors that unify a complex
multitonal fabric. The other factors are harmonic tonality,
melodic tonality, crossing tonality, etc. It is through such
tonical manifoldness that the compositional design finally
assumes that very flavour of "pantonality" which forms the
essence of our inquiries.

A-Rhythm and Pan-Rhythm

It is logical that whenever a change in one sphere of ex-
pression takes place in music, this cannot fail to affect the
other spheres. Thus it was only to be expected that the
change which, with the advent of the modern style, took
place in the harmonic-melodic sphere would also become
apparent in the realm of rhythm. In fact, it is astounding
how parallel in many respects is the evolution in the two
spheres.
In classical music the basic principle of the rhythmical
concept was a rhythm of symmetry. This rhythmical sym-
metry corresponded to the regular succession of tonical
cadences on the harmonic plane. In the rhythmical realm
the symmetry is brought about by accents. In the score
these accents appear as bar-lines which, of course, are
nothing more than an easy way of notating regularly
recurring accents. A
bar, or to use a more correct expres-
sion, ameasure, contains two or three beats or their mul-
tiples —
four, six, eight, nine or twelve. Sometimes, but
comparatively seldom in classical music, five or seven (in-
 Pantonality / 99

stead of two or three) are chosen as rhythmical units.

Apart from the small groups, called measures and defined
by bar-lines, larger groups are created by comprising sev-
eral measures into a higher rhythmical entity, a so-called
"period." In the classical concept, the normal period con-
sisted of eight measures or, if notated in quick tempo, of
sixteen or perhaps thirty-two measures.
All this, however, signifies only the basic principle of
rhythmical formation. In practice this basic principle is
greatly enriched by expansions, contractions and variants
of all kinds. This enrichment can take place in two differ-
ent forms.
First, the basic rhythmical symmetry is often modified
by shortening or (more often) extending the eight-bar
period. Regular eight-bar periods, except perhaps for main
themes, do not occur very frequently in classical music.
Secondly, and this is of even more far-reaching signifi-
cance, the groups in the different voices of a composition
are by no means always shaped according to one unifying
rhythmical idea. Rather their rhythms often differ; in fact,
the groups themselves often overlap, through which some-
times a fairly complex rhythmical picture may arise: a
second rhythm, superimposed on the basic symmetry. In
this sense a difference between metre (meaning the basic
rhythm as expressed by time signatures and bar-lines) and
rhythm in a specific sense (as expressed by phrasing and
grouping) is established, though in common terminology
an accurate distinction is not always maintained. In this
connexion one must also remember that classical music is
in great part much more polyphonic, much less based on
"accompanied homophony" than a widespread but inac-
curate view would hold. Apart from some piano music
—
and even this only to a limited degree the main body of
classical literature, its chamber music and symphonic
works abound in rich and genuine polyphony. And this
accounts for rhythmical variety within a symmetric metre.
For with melodic polyphony rhythmical polyphony often
goes hand in hand.
Classical music received this particular type of rhyth-
mical variety as a heritage from the music of the poly-
 100 / Tonality in Modern Music
phonic era proper. For then, as the shapes of the melodic
lines were much less tied to symmetry and accents, and the
concept of bars was non-existent, the entrance of each
new voice took place also in a somewhat similarly free
manner, that is, unfettered by rules of symmetry and peri-
odization. And classical music took over some of this
"freedom" into its otherwise stricter grouping, of course
adjusting the technical application to its own language and
style.
But classical music also introduced another form of
rhythmical enrichment which was realized by a third
rhythmical layer superimposed on the layers just described.
The third rhythmical layer was brought about by comple-
menting and often counteracting the basic symmetry
through irregular accents within the phrases which form
the second layer —a feature which was hardly known in
the polyphonic era. These irregular accents, notated as ac-
cents proper, as sforzatos, tenutos, or in a wider sense even
as crescendos or diminuendos, in short the whole dynamic
palette, often supported and intensified the regular rhyth-
mical picture but no less often lay outside of and even iri
contrast to it. Haydn and Mozart made ample use of such
multiplicity of rhythm, while Beethoven led it to a peak,
indeed, drew the highest structural — —
and emotional ef-
fects from an abundance of often violent asymmetric
counter-accents. From then on, in the romantic period,
these constant counter-accents became a common device.
But the great change in the rhythmical sphere came with
the advent of modern music toward the turn of the cen-
tury. In the harmonic-melodic sphere the main character-
istic of the change was the abandonment of tonality. In
the rhythmical realm it was a corresponding abandonment,
or almost abandonment, of the concept of symmetry. And
just as in the harmonic sphere the evolution moved in two
fundamentally different directions, one stream towards ato-
nality, the other towards pantonality, so in the rhythmical
province a strikingly similar dualism of trends was to be
observed. One trend tended towards an abandonment of
the specific rhythmical impulse altogether, towards a kind
of a-rhythm, the other towards an enrichment, an intensifi-
 Pantonality / 101

cation and finally a true transformation of the old rhyth-

mical idea, towards pan-rhythm.
Here we must go into some detail, as this part of the de-
velopment has seldom been described. As stated above,
the classical concept of rhythm was in essence a rhythm of
symmetry, a rhythm of accents. In a somewhat allegorical
analogy, one could say classical music was in a sense
dance music or, at least, music conceived from a dance-
like impulse. Of course, the actual, emphatic dance accen-
tuation was maintained only in some more or less stylized
dance forms, such as minuets, scherzos, etc., while in most
other instances it was somewhat subdued, since an over-
emphasis of the dance-like pattern would have cheapened
the actual musical message. Such an over-emphasis on ac-
centuation, moreover, was no longer necessary in well-
shaped music, as the transparency of the periods and
smaller groups was sufficiently assured by logical phrasing.
To intensify this art of phrasing, in fact, to make it more
complex, was, as described above, the chief means of en-
dowing the composition with rhythmical variety.
—
Now, in one province of modern music the atonal
such "rhythmical variety through phrasing" was attempted
by v/eakening, or even gradually abandoning, the under-
lying rhythmical symmetry. What then remained was a
complex web of phrases, often well-articulated, yet without
rhythmical impulse and finally without rhythm itself. The
composers and commentators of the atonal school still
called this web of manifold phrases "rhythmical variety."
In fact, they emphasized that such designs represent the
only true type of higher rhythmical formation, while sym-
metric accentuation of any kind expresses merely the
outer, superficial symbols of rhythm in music. Such a view,
however, is a confusion, at least in terminology. For
rhythm as a musical phenomenon and sensation, is defi-
nitely and always centred on some regularity of accent.
If the accents disappear, rhythm and rhythmical feeling
evaporate, and what remains is a kind of musical prose.
Let it be said that this is not meant as an aesthetic criticism
of this a-rhythmic trend in music — just as in literature,
poetry and prose are not in themselves yardsticks of ar-
 102 / Tonality in Modern Music
tisticvalue. Indeed, rhythmically free or even a-rhythmical
music can be traced back to a quite legitimate and noble
historical lineage, such as toccatas and fantasies of previ-
ous periods, and farther back to much of the early re-
ligious recitative. What should be emphasized here is
merely the fact that the part of modern music that abol-
ishes symmetric accentuation entirely, inevitably also
abolishes rhythm, notwithstanding the diversity or even
intensification of phrasing retained in the design. More-
over, such extreme abandonment of rhythm, if applied too
often and too thoroughly, as is the case in parts of the
modern, the atonal production, entails some further con-
sequences that cannot be overlooked.
First, our analogy of the artistic values of poetry and
prose in music and literature, true as it is in principle,
must be modified in practice. While in literature prose is
the normal human language and poetry the expression at
certain exceptional moments, in music almost the opposite
is the case. Here rhythm is an eternal impulse, the normal

state of expression, while a-rhythm is an interesting vari-

ant, suitable to a specific frame of mind.
There is another point of complication. For if this
a-rhythmical type of music is applied, as it usually is, to a
rich polyphonic design of diversified phrasing, it is very
difficult to bring about a satisfactory performance, i.e.a
performance in which the composer's intentions are
brought home to the listener. Every musician who studies
new scores, occasionally comes upon a kind of writing
where —bane of the conscientious conductor — an array of
divers tempo marks, fermatas, sudden ritenutos, and ac-
celerandos meets the eye, all within a few bars, sometimes
literally within one bar. (To which, since even in this way
everything cannot be indicated by notation, lengthy foot-
notes explaining the meaning of the marks are often
added.) The result is somewhat problematical.
In his book The Orchestra Speaks, Bernard Shore, a
well-known member of one of England's leading orches-
tras, raises the curtain on some activities and trade secrets
of an orchestra. In referring to the musical style here in
question he stresses the surprising difference between the
 Pantonality / 103

conductor's achievement during the rehearsal (when he

obviously can concentrate on explaining and analysing)
and during the actual performance, when he must depend
on the music proper. Speaking of a conductor who special-
izes in this type of music "with a single bar of eight
quavers over each of which there is a different indication,"
Shore adds: "With the most painstaking patience he did
his best faithfully to follow the composer's directions, to
the utter distraction of the orchestra; but when it came to
the night, nothing seemed to matter very much, and all
the hair-splitting went by the board."
This, then, conveys a fair picture of a-rhythm in action.
No doubt, the loosening of musical symmetry represents
one of the positive structural impulses of our age, as it
frees the composer's imagination for an abundance of new
effects. Yet carried to its extreme, it inevitably leads to an
impasse analogous to the impasse in the harmonic sphere
resulting from pure and extreme atonality.
But just as in the harmonic sphere only one stream of
the modern evolution pointed to atonality, while another,
broader stream pointed to something different and almost
opposite, so too in the realm of rhythm, the trend towards
a-rhythm was counteracted, and indeed conquered, by a
trend towards richer rhythmical patterns, towards pan-
rhythm. As we referred to Debussy as a beginning and
symbol of a new positive trend in the harmonic-melodic
sphere, we may analogously point to Igor Strawinsky as
a beginning and symbol of the new spirit of rhythm.
What are, technically speaking, the new rhythmical pat-
terns which Strawinsky introduced?
The author recalls some years ago attending a lecture in
the music department of a New England university on the
evolution of rhythm in modern music. Embedded in a
mass of scholarly and aesthetic explanations, the gist of
what the speaker maintained was the following: While the
time units in classical music were two or three plus their
multiples, with an occasional five or seven included, modern
music would add eleven, thirteen, seventeen and perhaps
higher cardinals as quite natural rhythmical elements. One
could easily imagine what fascinating combinations would
 104 / Tonality in Modern Music
be in store for us if, for instance, a rhythm of thirteen
sixteenths were contrapuntally juxtaposed to a rhythm of
seventeen dotted eights. The lecturer, no less than the
audience, became truly intoxicated with this colourful
prospect. Unfortunately, however, the evolution has not a
all confirmed such fantasies. At any rate, what Strawinsky
initiated,and what has since become the general trend,
points to something quite different. Ever-higher and more
complex numerals were not introduced as elementary
units, but the familiar, simple elements were combined to
ever-richer, more diversified and more complex patterns of
rhythm and accentuation.
Turning to Ex. 8 we may tabulate a succession of time
signatures from a typical Strawinskyan design. What we
here encounter are not units of an order such as thirteen,
seventeen, nineteen and intricate combinations of these
elements, but the old units of two, three, or four, now
in new patterns of alternation, in new arrangements.
Sometimes a \ bar is interpolated to enrich the picture,
but the rhythmical substance remains, at least theoretic-
ally, simple. Yet through the clash of different orders of
accentuation, such as two or three \ bars, followed
by a | or a | bar, again followed by a % the design
sounds even today, almost half a century after it was
written, highly stimulating and exciting. Ajq ear adjusted
to the classical rhythm might be inclined every once in a
while to skip or interpolate an eighth beat, in order to re-
store the "regularity" of accentuation. Yet to the listener
who accustomed to the rhythm of Strawinsky (or for
is

that matter to that of Bartok and many other moderns)

the pattern in question conveys a definite and quite natural
rhythmical idea. However, fully to comprehend the nature
of the effect here involved, one should not forget that all
these rhythmical irregularities are in this piece introduced
only after a regular \ rhythm has been definitely estab-
lished at some Thus the spirit in which the ir-
length.
reminds one somewhat of the way
regularities are applied
in which dissonances are used in the pantonal domain.
Just as these dissonances, notwithstanding their uninter-
rupted occurrence, must be understood as a deviation from
 Pantonality / 105

consonances, the asymmetric rhythm must be understood

as a deviation from an underlying regular rhythmical pat-
tern, although this regular pattern may for long stretches
hardly appear at all.
Thus Strawinsky dispensed with the classical symmetry,
without abandoning the classical rhythmical impulse itself.
In fact, he enriched and intensified the classical idea of
—
rhythm somewhat in the way in which Debussy disposed
of classical tonality, while still retaining the tonical phe-
nomenon and the tonical spirit as such. The composers
from the a-rhythmical camp, on their part, abandoned
rhythm itself by trying to replace its grouping quality
through elaborate phrasing. In contrast, Strawinsky, in the
more emphatically "rhythmical" parts of his compositions,
at times gave up phrasing and shaping almost entirely, re-
lying at such moments solely on rhythm and accentuation
— a fact which some commentators are inclined to see
even as a kind of deficiency. Whether this should be so
regarded or not, is not under discussion. Here Strawinsky's
positive achievement should be stressed, which in creating
a new conceptof rhythmical structure has already influ-
enced and will continue to influence whole generations of
musicians.
Thus the basic point demonstrated so far is the bipo-
larity in the evolution ofrhythm: one stream tending to-
wards dissolution and abandonment of rhythm, the other
towards its enrichment and transmutation into higher rhyth-
mical patterns. However, corresponding to events in the
harmonic sphere, further development in the rhythmic
sphere produced — —
and even more clearly here astound-
ing symptoms of a rapprochement of the two fundamen-
tally divergent trends.
All these tendencies point to an endeavour to preserve
the idea of rhythmical symmetry but at the same time to
transform it into higher, more complex formations or, in
other words, to blend regularity with irregularity. The
simplest patterns of this type are the so-called "alternating
rhythms." While the old idea of symmetry was expressed
by a continuous succession of \ or \ units, new and eas-
ily comprehensible patterns can be developed by an alter-
 106 / Tonality in Modern Music
nating scheme of, for instance, 2 ——— s 2 3 etc.
or 2 —
4 I —————
4 4 4 4
4 (this pattern could also be notated
as a Irhythm with alternating accents).
But more complex patterns bora of similar impulses
emerge in recent years. Some of the twelve-tonists to be —
exact, the younger, less orthodox twelve-tone composers,
who are swerving more and more away from pure aton-
ality —seem also the first to surprise one through new and

particular patterns of rhythm and symmetry. Boris

Blacher, for instance, employs
device of "variable a
metre." Blacher suggests "arithmetical series like 2, 3, 4,
... 12; a summation series 2 3 5 8 13; series
4
————
formed by permutation, In some instances he de-
etc."
velops a fairly effective and even easily comprehensible
rhythmical design, especially when he restrains his theo-
retical imagination within the limits dictated by his in-
herent musicianship. Were he, however, to carry out his
theoretical patterns without hesitation, then indeed a state
almost similar to that predicted in that university lecture
—
would soon be reached a state in abstracto, for in the
performance such a play of numbers would anyway not be
perceivable.
There can be no doubt that in the coming years more
attempts at creating new rhythmical schemes, new patterns
of metre and accentuation will spring up. Regarding this
whole subject, however, one point should not be over-
looked: namely, that skill or lack of skill in notation plays
no small part in expressing, or sometimes obscuring, the
(rhythmical) idea intended. Here the difference between
rhythm and metre assumes increased significance. For
rhythmical patterns, even intricate patterns of irregular
rhythm, must not always be apparent in the surface no-
tation. Luigi Dallapiccola, whom we quoted previously in
another context, states almost naively that "Wagner . . .

one of the greatest innovators in musical history, never

showed any special concern for the rhythmical factor. In
his whole gigantic output he only once used a | bar. . ." 5 .

4Rufer, op. cit, p. 178.

eRufer, op. cit., p. 179.
 Pantonality / 107

However, intricate rhythms are by no means restricted to

the use of frequent |or J
metres. The metrical picture,
as expressed in the notation, indicates only a part of the
rhythmical idea of a composition. It is true that in many
instances rhythmical complexities must appear in the
metrical pattern. But this is not necessarily always the
case. Modern composers are often inclined to scorn outer
clarity and readability in their scores. One has the feeling
that they sometimes even rejoice in a rather bewildering,
if not confusing rhythmical picture. However, the more

versatile the modern composer becomes in the handling of

rhythmical diversities, the more often will he at times
succeed, not in avoiding rhythmical difficulty and com-
plexity entirely, but often in hiding complicated combina-
tions, brought about by rhythm-forming accents, behind a
comparatively simple metrical design. In fact, an effective
and easily readable rhythmical and metrical notation, in
spite of possible underlying rhythmical diversity, today be-
comes an art in itself.
Many new, far-reaching rhythmical ideas may also be
established by the other type of compositional formation,
that tries to combine different rhythms contrapuntally. Of
course, if carried out in a purely mechanical manner, this
method would hardly amount to more than a kind of
"rhythmical polytonality" — figuratively speaking. But if

the composer manages to integrate different rhythmical

concepts into a higher unity in an inspired and convincing
manner, truly novel effects of real "pan-rhythm" could
result.
One interesting and early example of contrasting
rhythms which are juxtaposed can be found in Hinde-
mith's Piano Concerto, 1924 (Ext. 9). 6 But even before
Hindemith, several highly impressive samples of cross-
rhythms, in which entirely different patterns of metre and
accentuation sound simultaneously, were realized by the
American composer Charles Ives. Some of these pieces do
6 Of
course, a far earlier, highly ingenious polyrhythmical structure
is foundin the first act of Mozart's Don Giovanni, where three
orchestras play simultaneously in different metres.
 108 / Tonality in Modern Music
not represent mere experiments but are true visions of
new rhythmical realities. (A more general description of
some of Ives' structural innovations is given in Ex. 10.)
In fact, rhythm in general plays an important role in
the works of American composers. Perhaps as a result of
an old affinity to jazz, Americans are even in their present,
almost jazz-free compositions inclined to indulge in strik-
ing, sometimes bizarre, but often effective, new patterns of
symmetry and rhythm. But also outside of America,
though naturally applied in different ways in individual
countries and schools, the search for a new musical rhyth-
mical impulse becomes a foremost ingredient in the works
of many composers of today.
Of course, one has to realize that here we come danger-
ously close to the point where creative invention may
reach or surpass the borderline of the physically possible.
For if these diverse and divergent designs are not very
competently, almost cunningly, shaped, both with regard
to invention and notation, they can easily become stum-
bling blocks in performance. In essence this prob-
its last

—
lem will not be solved until, in a distant or perhaps not
—
so distant future, musical performance, or at least a
part of it, will have become independent of the limitations
which instruments and performers, symbols of life though
they are, still impose on it. But of this more anon.

Pantonality and Form

In discussing rhythm, our deductions had necessarily to
deal with the question of how compositions are grouped
and what role rhythmical units, such as measures, phrases
and periods, play in a work's structure. This brings us to
another important, though perhaps somewhat vaguely de-
fined, conception: namely, the conception of musical form.
What lies behind the idea of form in music, and in what
way has the introduction of modern music changed this
idea and its practical application?
Before answering these questions, some general remarks
must be interpolated. For the term "form" in music covers
 Pantonality / 109
7
two In the first
different fields of technical operation.
place, form created by the working of the motivic and
is

thematic forces, by the development and formation of a

whole piece from the variation and treatment of a few
motifs and themes. In fact, form in this sense is the truly
important factor in creating the structural beauty and
depth of a composition.
But there is also another idea of form at work in music.
Form in this second sense is manifested by the way in
which a work is grouped and divided into parts and sec-
tions. The technical operations here involved endow a
work with its outer, architectural form. This is what musi-
cians usually think of when they speak of form. In the
following pages, whenever the term is used, this "outer"
form is meant, at least as a point of departure; although
we may later return to the more general concept which
includes the inner idea as well.
Having clarified our terms we may repeat our initial
question: How did the and evolution of
introduction
modern music influence the concept of form, and what
changes did it bring about?
There is a strange, almost amusing development to be
observed. Classical music, or perhaps still more, classical
musical theory, operated on the basis of schemes, such as
the sonata form, rondo form, etc., according to which the
compositions were built. Naturally, these schemes were
never strictly observed and they were relaxed more and
more in the romantic and post-romantic period. The
reason for this is that classical form, of which the sonata
form was the main representative, was developed in a
certain parallelism to harmonic architecture. Therefore,
when the classical concept of harmony was loosened, the
schematic forms also became less valid. With the dawn of
modern music, then, composers and theoreticians raised
their voices ever more strongly towards an abandonment,
if not a complete ban on the old "forms." It is without

question, they held, that the new harmonic concept also

7With regard to this dualism see also the author's The Thematic
Process in Music, p. 109a. ff.
 110 / Tonality in Modern Music
demands new patterns of form; and that these new pat-
terns will come into being out of the musical idiom itself.

Therefore, everyone watched expectantly for the com-

ing of a new pattern of form.
But although the modern idiom became more and more
outspoken and even branched out into various techniques
and styles, interestingly enough, no new general schemes
of form emerged anywhere on the compositional horizon.
What was it that prevented the expected "forms" from
materializing?
To understand what lies behind all this, one has first to
realize that the core of classical form is the principle of
grouping as such, not a certain, specific way of grouping,
not the schemes. The specific schemes, which even in the
classical period were not always strictly observed, are
merely individual instances, subject to change in different
periods and in different compositional orbits while the —
principle itself is an almost timeless device. It is actually
"form."
Yet in the course of time, due to long usage, the prin-
ciple had become confused with the schemes.
Consequently when, with the advent of modern har-
monic design, it became increasingly clear that the old
schemes which were based on the tonic-dominant pro-
gressions were no longer tenable, musicians thought they
had to look for new schemes as a new principle of form.
And they were obviously disappointed as no new schemes
made their appearance.
With regard to this problem, a few further words should
be added. The classical principle of form was based, first,
on the method of grouping just described; second, on the
resumption of a theme or section which had already ap-
peared earlier in the same composition. The re-entrance of
familiar shapes (as for instance in the repetition or re-
capitulation of a sonata) unites the parts between in one
These two comparatively simple de-
architectural entity.
vices, first the method
of grouping, second thematic re-
sumption, constituted the whole source from which the
concept of outer form in the classical period was devel-
oped. All schemes, such as the sonata, rondo, minuet and
 Pantonality / 111

the many others, meant merely specific applications

adapted to certain thematic, harmonic and rhythmical
types of composition. Therefore, when in the modern era
the harmonic and rhythmical designs changed, the schemes
also had to be adjusted accordingly. But merely adjusted
—
from case to case for since in modern music manifold
harmonic progressions and rhythmical patterns, rather
than one unilateral harmonic basis (such as the tonic-
dominant relation), generated the compositional design,
no single scheme could emerge to correspond to such
variety. Yet, although no specific scheme made its appear-
ance, the deeper principle of form did not disappear
that principle which in classical music generated the tonic-
dominant schemes and which in modern music enables the
composer through diversified ways of grouping and vari-
ous kinds of resumption to develop any "scheme" he de-
sires. In fact, this principle constitutes now as ever the
basis for creating form in music.
But the atonalists, just as they shun regular symmetry
and emphatic grouping, usually do not like thematic re-
sumption either. This, of course, does not mean that their
music is formless. For it may be deeply entrenched in that
other type of form, motivic consistency. Of course,
whether such motivic unity can completely make up for
lack of certain aspects of outer form as achieved by group-
ing, remains debatable. With regard to a piece such as the
first movement of Schoenberg's Third String Quartet for

instance, even the listener who finds the idiom itself

attractive may remain in doubt as to the unequivocal dis-
position and balance of the sections, both from an archi-
tectural and dramatic point of view. He might hardly be
able to say why all this, architecturally speaking, must be
as it is; why, for example, the end comes when it does. To
repeat: inner form, thematic form, is by no means missing
in this type of music, but merely a definite pattern of
outer, architectural form. In contrast, the modern non-
atonalists, shall we
say the pantonalists, since they are not
bound to a specific structural principle as are the twelve-
tonists, have infinite possibilities at their disposal from
which all thinkable kinds of "form," in fact schemes of
 112 / Tonality in Modern Music
form, can be drawn. The fourth movement of Bartok's
Music for String Instruments, Percussion and Celesta, for
instance, from the third movement of which we quoted on
a previous occasion, shows the following scheme: A, B,
A; C, D, E, D, F, G, A. Moreover, towards the end of the
movement the main theme of the work's first movement
is resumed, now expanding the original chromatic version
into a diatonic variant. Perhaps less concentrated than the
simple tripartite sonata scheme, yet in the end no less
and more complex pattern which cor-
logical, is this freer
responds so well to the manifold tonical relationships in
Bartok's piece.
The younger generation of twelve-tone composers, how-
ever, just as they drew nearer to all other aspects of
pantonality, also approached this type of freer, yet well-
organized concept of form. Thus we have in this realm,
too, the familiar antagonism; the true atonalist almost
abandoned "form" as a means of architectural grouping; 8
the others, striving towards pantonality, rather intensified
the sectioning, the grouping of their compositions, setting
up individual schemes for almost every work.
There is a further feature of significance in which at
least part of this same antagonism became observable.
Classical music made use of a structural device, the appli-
cation of which became almost a rule: namely, the fa-
miliar device of "themes." Themes in the classical sense
were musical thoughts of a certain length which, through
their quality, position and emphasis, became important
architectural pillars within the composition, the grouping

8 It was only a natural consequence of this tendency that compos-

ers of that style, owing to the architectural vacuum just described,
resorted in the dawn of atonality to strangely small-sized composi-
tions. Schoenberg refers to the "extraordinary brevity" of these
works, adding that at that time neither he nor his pupils were
conscious of the reason for it. "Later I discovered," he states, "that
our sense of form was right when it forced us to counterbalance
extreme emotionality with extraordinary shortness." {Style and
Idea, p. 105). The emphasis on the fact of this "extraordinary
shortness" is justified. The attempt, however, to explain it as hav-
ing been forced by the necessity "to counterbalance extreme emo-
tionality with extraordinary shortness" remains debatable.
 Pantonality / 113

of which they helped to make more transparent. In this

way they also conformed more or less with the harmonic
course, as expressed in the over-all cadential scheme. The
genuine atonalists, however, at the beginning of their
movement —
and there were genuine atonalists almost only
at the —
beginning shunned markedly distinguishable and
lengthy themes, since they evoked too many memories of
clear-cut divisions connected with tonical construction.
But when in the later evolution the twelve-tone composers,
as previously described, departed farther and farther from
atonality, themes inevitably reappeared and, with them,
all the familiar devices of grouping, resumption, and in a

sense even the old "schemes." Naturally, the symphonies,

sonatas, suites, which today every modern composer, be
he atonalist or not, produces, are not conceived in accord-
ance with the tonic-dominant scheme. But the over-all
principle, though now varied in countless ways, is still
and there is no more talk even among the ultra-
alive,
radicals thatany new "form," any new pattern, is in the
making that would replace, say, the sonata form.
Nevertheless, the stream of evolution does not stand
in the sphere of form. There are currents and eddies
still

of various kinds which press to the fore. One current is

centred on the question of a-thematic music.
A-thematic music should not be confused, though it
sometimes is, with music without themes. A-thematic
music is music which not based on thematic or motivic
is

consistency, but music in which the course develops, so to

speak, freely, without using the affinity of thematic shapes
as a structural bond. It is noteworthy that both the great
pathfinders of modern music, Debussy and Schoenberg, at
times toyed with the idea of adopting a-thematic forma-
tion as their principle. Both, however, finally rejected the
idea, Schoenberg by introducing the twelve-tone technique,
which on the contrary carried the principle of motivic
consistency to its extreme; and Debussy by dismissing the
matter, at least in practice, though there always remained
a tendency in his music occasionally to loosen the thematic
bond. Some years later the Czech composer Alois Haba
came out strongly, perhaps with more theoretical than
 114 / Tonality in Modern Music
practical success, for a-thematic composition. But not until
recently did a similar trend emerge in the music of a wider
circle of composers. The author, in showing a certain
interest in this idea, hopes not to disappoint readers who
followed his earlier treatise, The Thematic Process in
Music, with kindly approval. It may seem strange that
after having written the strongest possible plea for the
necessity of thematic logic in musical composition, he does
not dismiss the whole subject of a-thematic composition
from the outset. And indeed, his attitude has not changed.
If he is certain of anything, it is that thematic consistency
as an artistic principle can never vanish from composi-
tional formation.
Yet all this does not mean that in some individual com-
positions or in parts of them the line could not, even
repeatedly, be interrupted through new, seemingly uncon-
nected thoughts. If skilfully applied this may at times even
produce a specific, highly effective style of expression. Ex-
amples of a similar character can occasionally be found in
some high-ranking literary products of the last decades. In
recent musical attempts, moreover, this method of tempo-
rarily dismissing thematic consistency is combined with
new structural ideas.
To understand the problems posed by this evolution,
we must first become clear about the technical aspects im-
plied in the concept of a-thematic music. Even the simplest
deliberation shows that the term can never be accepted in its

extreme, literal sense. A-thematism must remain a tendency,

an approximation, somewhat analogous to atonality, which
according to our previous description must also remain a
tendency that can never fully reach its goal. Absolute
a-thematism is an unthinkable idea in music. For it would
mean the complete exclusion of any unifying agent, the com-
plete lack of any connection between the parts of a composi-
tion, in fact, in its final sense, even the negation of the
composer himself as a structural organizer. Thus the degree
to which a-thematism is possible in practice is signified
merely by the exclusion of the more or less traditional
thematic and motivic mechanism and by the substitution of
some other connecting method, be it a structure based on
 Pantonality / 115

elements of pure rhythm, phrasing, or —and this is especially

interesting —on any serial idea, that is, the twelve-tone or
any other row. Accordingly, a-thematic designs, contra-
dictory as it may seem, emerge frequently in compositions
that at first would appear to be the most tightly-knit
motivic configurations, such as music written in twelve-
tone or in any other serial technique.
In compositions of this type the organization of the
composer's thoughts is not attempted by starting from any
theme or motivic phrase, but rather from a "sound-for-
mation" (the term "chord" would not accurately cover
what is meant) and by developing its inherent possibilities
into wider groups. The basic formation is thus the struc-
tural impulse for the whole group and is replaced only by
the next formation, which itself is somehow related to
the first.

We may turn to a concrete example, the opening bars

of Pierre Boulez' Piano Sonata No. 1 (Ex. 11). Bars 1 to
4 obviously constitute the first group, divided into two
sub-groups, A
and B. Although at first glance one might
believe this to be a twelve-tone design —and it is quite
possible that the composer considers his work as conceived
in this vein —a closer examination reveals something dif-
ferent. The sub-group (marked A in the example)
first
rises from F-sharp to an expressive D and, significantly,
also —
concludes with D a D which is accentuated by a
sffz. —
Through this a kind of tonality of course, a rather
atonal "tonality through pitch" —
unifies the group. The
following group (B), answering the first, even concludes
with a full restatement of the opening: F-sharp, D, E-flat,
F, or in numbers, as given in the example: 1, 2, 3, 4. Thus
a structure of intensified identical pitch emerges. The last
D, as a half note, at the same time forms the beginning of
the reintroduced opening series, now heard in retrogres-
sion: 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. In this way all three opening
groups together (A, B
and C) are framed by the F-sharp
— D, and thus form one unified whole, notwithstanding
that the F of the last sub-group reaches out into an an-
nexed prolongation of one bar.
What should be made plain by all this is the so to speak
 116 / Tonality in Modern Music
tonal impulse behind the atonal design and the fact that
it was drawn from an a-thematic serial idea. Here we
singled out merely the elements pointing to the tonal im-
pulse, ignoring all other structural ideas which might be
present. Also the aesthetic question of whether the com-
poser was or was not able to evolve a convincing artistic
message through his theory may be left out of the dis-
cussion.
Turning to another example, quoted from the conclud-
ing group of Benjamin Britten's opera The Rape of
Lucretia (Ex. 12), it should be understood that this ex-
ample is by no means introduced for the sake of any paral-
lelism or similarity to the but rather for the sake of
first

utter contrast to it and even

in every stylistic, structural
ideological respect. Yet being two extremes, the Boulez
and the Britten quotations may demonstrate most em-
phatically into what divergent regions the departure from
older structures can reach. Thus pantonality may even
indicate a synthesis of tonality and atonality a phenom-—
enon about which we shall become more explicit later.
For, if the Boulez example shows how extreme atonality
can, at least in part, be annulled within and by its own
atonal fabric, the Britten example demonstrates how an
almost completely tonal fabric can by the intensification
and diversification of its own texture create something
quite different from tonality.
At the first example would seem as
glance, the Britten
strikingly tonal as the Boulez seemed atonal. Yet Brit-
ten's tonality almost disappears if one follows the inner
contours of the lines and does not take the chordal ex-
pansions too literally. In this vein even the lengthy pedal
point on C would almost give the impression that it is not
so much a harmonic basis out of which the upper har-
monies grow and diversify (as are pedal points in classical
music) but is in great part merely a colourful background
destined to produce ever new sound combinations with
the upper layers. These upper harmonies, or rather
"harmonic melodies," almost invariably overlap, so that
one enters while another still sounds and thus create hid-
den atonal relations and effects between each other and
 Pantonality / 117

the bass. Yet a kind of undefinable supertonality is still

maintained. And as for thematism, while an almost tra-
ditional thematic shaping is expressed in the lines of the
choruses, the orchestral "accompaniment" in its magically
austere instrumentation adds free, almost non-thematic
colours.
The Boulez and Britten examples, be it repeated, were
juxtaposed here merely for the purpose of demonstrating
how trends toward pantonality can evolve from contrasting
structural principles. Here we are at one of the cross-
roads, indeed, perhaps at the focal point of our investi-
gation. On the one hand we have a typically atonal and
a-thematic concept (as in the Boulez example), on the
other hand a typically tonal and thematic one (as in the
quotation from Britten's opera). Yet each leads to designs
that transcend finally both tonality and atonality as well as
thematism and a-thematism. Evolution, to be sure, seldom
follows one straight line but usually seems to spread out
into various divergent paths which only much later effect
a reunion.
This trend from tonality and thematism toward some-
thing beyond them, without first passing through the
purgatory of atonality and a-thematism, can be observed
in a greater part of the contemporary creative production.
It began with some British and American composers,
notably Vaughan Williams and Aaron Copland. Copland
in some of his works, as for instance in his Third Sym-
phony, has introduced a style which is much more personal
than that found in his more popular, half-programmatic
orchestral poems.
In some parts of this work structural ideas are indicated
which open new vistas of compositional formation. Ex. 13
is a quotation from the beginning of the symphony's

second movement. The opening fanfare by the horns

points to F major, though the B-natural (which is also
maintained in the subsequent sforzato of bar 3) adds a
different, so to speak modal, colour. In bar 7 the line
rises to F-sharp whence, after some motivic intensifica-
tions, it finally (bars 11 and 12) concludes in the B-
natural. Thus the whole group can be heard in two ways:
 118 / Tonality in Modern Music
either tonically focusedon B-natural, in this case C (over-
all pitch of the four bars) represents a kind of Nea-
first

politan sixth, followed by F-sharp (dominant) and

B-natural (tonic); or, the line may be regarded simply as
departing from F major and leading ("atonally") to B-
natural. After a few excursions a new thought enters
(Ex. 13b), which in essence is an inversion of the open-
ing fanfare. In Ex. 13c, then, a kind of second theme is
introduced, a rather charming blending of the opening
theme and its inversion. (This emphasis on thematic con-
sistency is a paramount feature in this phase of composi-
tional expression, as we shall demonstrate later.) This
theme is in F again, and with an augmented expression of
it the movement also concludes.
Though the example does not convey more than an
indication of the trend in question, it is noteworthy, be-
cause shows the idea in rather a transparent way. While
it

Strauss, Mahler and their generation expanded tonality

often to an intense degree without ever loosening its
discipline, Copland, the pioneer of the American evolu-
tion, is, though perhaps simpler than they, at the same
time freer, less inhibited, and thus the seed is sown for
later development. And in pursuing this trend towards
more intricate patterns further, a whole generation of
younger, often extremely gifted British and American
composers may be seen enriching the musical picture of
our time. The farther this process develops, the closer the
two contrasting principles seem to become: the one start-
ing from the tonal-thematic concept, the other from the
atonal, a-thematic one. In a later chapter we shall refer
to this evolving synthesis more concretely.
However, there is one point which seems essential with
regard to this whole subject —
a point which now as we
gradually approach the end of our inquiry will become
more and more important in our argumentation. It is the
conviction that among all these experiments, those which
are primarily based on negation, have a chance to survive
only if a way be found to integrate them into the general
musical whole. Unless these new techniques themselves
become part of the universal musical "law," they will re-
 Pantonality / 119

main less than short-lived, even if they were hailed by

those who introduced them as the last word in artistic
achievement. The avant-gardist, of course, thinks that all
that was before him became obsolete with the first stroke
of his pen and that the year One has come again. Such
fanaticism may sometimes even be fruitful, as it may
open, perhaps not new empires, but interesting
artistic
provinces. Even these provinces should be explored with
caution.
As Paul Henry Lang once said: "A radically new style
can never destroy the older one armed rebellion in the
. . .

arts is seldom successful."

This statement is valid for the specific concept of a-
thematic music, which can only become a living, if limited,
compositional idea by being made, paradoxically, a part
of the over-all thematic principle; it is valid for a-rhythm,
which can only prevail by becoming a part of pan-rhythm;
for antonality as a part of pantonality. And it is also valid
for a vast and entirely new domain of musical expression
which has sprung up in recent years and about which we
shall soon speak in some detail.

The Evolution of "Colour" in Music

In our preceding explanation on form we had to deal
with that part of the artistic idea which is expressed purely
by the design of the composition, regardless of the various
types of sound through which such a design may be
brought into being. These types of sound are usually re-
ferred to as musical colours, by analogy with the fine arts.
Since the different colours are brought to life by musical
instruments, the art of producing colour is based on the
technique of applying and combining these instruments,
i.e., on the technique of instrumentation. musical work A
can be instrumentated for a soloist or for a small
—
(chamber) group, or and this has become in many re-
spects the most important type in the last two centuries
as a composition for a whole orchestra. Therefore, the
development which the orchestral palette has undergone
during these centuries may be discussed below.
After all that has been said about the evolution in other
 120 / Tonality in Modern Music
spheres, it would seem almost a logical consequence that in
the realm of orchestration an analogous dichotomy might
be expected: one branch corresponding to the elements
which produce atonality, the other tending to the diversi-
fied possibilities of pantonality. Alluring as such a sche-
matic analogy might seem, it has the defect that it does
not conform to reality. The familiar bipolarity cannot be
detected in the domain of musical colour. Yet an exami-
nation may still yield some interesting results.
Classical orchestration, though thoroughly organic, with
the smallest detail meticulously worked out, was at the same
time in essence rather simple. The strings, as the techni-
cally most developed and most flexible instruments, had
also to carry the main burden of the compositional course,
the woodwinds accompanying and occasionally entering
with a contrasting theme, while the brass supported by the
timpani completed the design. The picture was enriched in
the later classic and following romantic period, when the
different orchestral groups rose to a more equal footing.
This trend was intensified with the advent of modern
music, where often a tendency became visible to raise the
wind instruments to an even higher position than the
strings.
Of course, the widening and intensifying of the use of
the wind instruments was only one specific feature within
the general tendency to increase the range of available
colours as such. In this sense, composers from Berlioz on
gradually drew upon the entire compass of the orchestral
palette, especially including the highest and lowest registers
of the individual instruments. In fact, extreme registers
sometimes became the main source from which the colour
plan of a composition was developed.
Within the general trend to enrich, to increase the com-
pass of possible colours and combinations of colours to the
utmost, two opposite tendencies became observable. How-
ever, as indicated above, these two opposite tendencies
can by no means be identified with the two contrasting
directions towards which the evolution moved in the har-
monic and rhythmical spheres. Rather it was a question of
individual taste that determined the side towards which a
 Pantonality / 121

composer tended. Moreover, a different spirit of orchestra-

tion is occasionally observable in different works by the
same composer.
In trying to describe the two different principles of
orchestral painting, one could say: the one principle at-
tempted a height of expression by obscuring the role and
and groups of in-
individuality of the single instruments
struments, fusing them into a stream of vibrating and
almost indistinguishable colours; while the opposite prin-
ciple strovetowards the highest colour effects by preserv-
ing and even intensifying the role- of the orchestral
individualities and groups, organizing the orchestra al-
most like an assembly of human personalities.
However, be it repeated, this antagonism does not cor-
respond to any general stylistic polarity, nor in most in-
stances can a definite principle of orchestration be ascribed
to all works of one composer or even to all parts of one
work. The reason that such ascriptions usually do not con-
form with reality is that the differences mentioned, which
are very clear in principle, are hardly ever applied fully in
practice, as they are oftenchanged and combined accord-
ing to the composer's momentary
intentions. There is no
doubt that the creative vision of Latin composers is less
centred on polyphony and therefore would seem to tend
more towards transparency in colour than that of their
Germanic counterparts. Yet looking at works like De-
bussy's La Mer and Strawinsky's Petrouchka or, on the
other side, Strauss' Symphonic Poems and Schoenberg's
Five Pieces for Orchestra, op. 16, one would hesitate to
state with certainty which of the two principles is applied
in any of these compositions. Rather one would be in-
clined to say: both principles were at work in each of
them. Thus the existence of the two principles is mainly
of theoretical importance. Yet they do represent real forces
that direct the composer's mind at different stages of his
work.
One trend in the evolution of musical colour, however,
proved steady, universal and irresistible during the last
centuries: namely, the trend to widen the range of the
colour spectrum, to increase its possible nuances and com-
 122 / Tonality in Modern Music
binations. Indeed, this trend would long ago have trans-
formed the orchestral palette into a medium of far higher
diversity and effectiveness, had it not been for the limita-
tions imposed by the nature and physical mechanism of
the musical instruments. The composers, abetted by in-
genious performers, tried to overcome these limitations by
various tricks of virtuosity.
How the colour spectrum can be broken up into count-
less shades, even within such a limited instrumental range
as a string quartet, can be seen in the previously quoted
example from Webern's Five Movements for String Quar-
tet (Ex. 7). Even within the first one and a half bars we
hear three fundamentally different colours: regular bow,
col legno and pizzicato. The initial augmented octaves
(C —C-sharp in the second violin and 'cello) are played in
one bow, carrying the dynamic mark ff, followed by a
crescendo. The responding major sevenths (F E in the—
first violin and viola), which are also rhythmically differ-

endy placed, are marked pizzicato. Then follow three col

legno chords in ///. Again the viola and 'cello continue
with some pizzicato chords bearing within one and a half
bars the dynamic marks ff, f, p, pp, followed at the end of
bar 3 by an arco chord in ppp on which an accent is im-
posed. The following canon in miniature (bar 4) is to be
played sul ponticello, again in ppp to which a diminuendo
is annexed. All this within the first four bars and a similar

picture prevails throughout the whole piece. The result is

often very effective; no less often, however, one effect
neutralizes the other.
But apart from the infinite possibilities of diversified
sound which the string instruments provide, we can in
general find in modern scores all kinds of special effects,
such as pizzicato glissandi of the strings, glissandi of the
overtone series in the horns, timpani glissandi, etc. etc.
Some of these devices certainly add to the enrichment of
the palette, while othersmay look more impressive in the
score than they actually sound in performance.
Perhaps, however, music de facto on the eve of a
is

never-dreamed-of widening
fantastic upsurge, entailing a
of the colour spectrum, which would render superfluous
 Pantonality / 123

the earlier attempts just described. The following pages

will tell us more about these possibilities, which at a later
date may perhaps initiate a truly new chapter in music
history.

The Electronic Wonder

As is generally known, the technological discoveries of
our time also brought a host of devices into being which
surprised the world with a variety of new sounds. Not
only new sounds of a specific type, such as any age adds to
the existing stock by the introduction of new musical in-
struments, 9 but a whole new category of sound. This de-
velopment started in a sense with the invention of the
gramophone and radio, to which in recent years the tape
recorder with a host of affiliated electronic devices was
added. In this way not only the fixation and later repro-
duction of any kind of sound and noise were enormously
but the possibility was established of changing
facilitated,
colours and pitches at will, of increasing or reducing
tempo and dynamics, in brief, of transforming a piece in
any imaginable (or even unimaginable) manner.
It is not surprising that music or, first of all, the musical
industry hastened to make use of these possibilities. Today
in radio and film, as in all kindred spheres, electronic
devices not only form one of the foremost agents of sound
production, but in considerable part also account for the
styleand even content of the music produced.
Evenart music has partaken of this development. Com-
posers cultivating electronic music emerged particularly
in France and Germany and to a lesser extent in America,
and were soon divided into sects. As was to be expected,
the most radical of them declared that electronic sound
represents the only true music of our age and that all
9 However, at the same time one should remember that most of
our modern instruments are, at least in principle, of ancient origin.
They have accompanied Man through the millennia, though they
were brought to their present perfection only during the last
centuries. This is a fact of significance, for it shows that the as-
semblage of instruments used today is not the result of a chance
—
development but of a natural growth and artistic logic cf. Curt
Sachs, A History of Musical Instruments.
 124 / Tonality in Modern Music
previous music will soon constitute but a primitive, as it
were, pre-historic stage that must eventually disappear
from artistic practice.
However, the music produced by the "electronists"
hardly justifies such proud claims. And anyway, for the
present the main interest of all parties concerned seems
to centre on the various technical possibilities of bringing
about this new world of sound and on its physical-acousti-
cal properties rather than on its musical content. It fits into
this picture that those who present us with this music are
often engineers rather than actual composers, or teams of
engineers and composers. Yet, since our present study is
not a survey of the different events in contemporary music
but is concerned with the unravelling of the principles
which give the broad streams their direction, we shall not
go into the detail of this whole development. 10 Yet there
is one aspect in this sphere of electronic music which is of

interest, indeed of great interest, to our subject: there can

be no doubt that because of the technological progress
initiated by these electro-musical experiments, the com-
poser will in time to come have at his disposal both an
infinite, uninterrupted series of pitches and an infinite, un-
interrupted series of musical colours.
To be sure, electronic musical practice is still very far
from this state, though some composers of the electronic
school behave as though it were already reached, or at
least just around the corner. Yet this goal cannot be even
approximated until instruments, or shall we call them
—
machines, appear on the market yes, on the market, not
—
merely in someone's richly endowed laboratory machines
on which the composer can easily transform into reality
any musical design that his creative imagination demands:
10 However, it may be noted that the French-American composer

Edgar Varese was one of the first to point in this direction and
thus is sometimes referred to in Europe as the "father" of the
whole development. Moreover, the American composer Henry
Cowell began experimenting as early as 1911, and in his composi-
tions, among them the fascinating Banshee, he introduced sound
effects through non-electronic media which in their colour and
direction clearly point to the musical domain which today is
attempted through electronic equipment
 Pantonality / 125

any polyphonic combination of infinite pitches and infinite

colours. Only in ten, twenty, fifty years, or more, then
—
and not until then may a new chapter be added to the
already extant chapters in the fascinating story which
music history represents.
About the situation at this future stage some remarks
should be added. Although we do not know what actual
and detailed consequences such a stage would produce,
there are nevertheless a few points which can be stated
without fear of losing ourselves in speculation.
In such an electronic future, when the composer may
"play" his composition into his "instrument" for later
direct reproduction, the idea of performance may change.
Though it is very unlikely, at least for many decades to
come, that performers will disappear, they may assume
new functions, leaving to thecomposer more responsibili-
ties in some matters but taking over some of his tasks in
others. The composer, at any rate, will have the possibility
of transforming into musical reality combinations of a
structure so complex that today he would not even be able
to notate them. Then, one might surmise, the time for a-
thematic composition, for a-rhythm and atonality would
have arrived. Here, however, comes a surprise. For think-
ing this matter through, just the opposite seems to be true.
And this leads us to one of the salient points in our whole
chain of thought.
Whenever and infinite colours
that age of infinite pitches
may come —be by means of electronic devices or in any
it

other unforeseeable way —

many conceptions which to-
day appear as self-evident properties of the daily musical
routine willbecome obsolete or even vanish entirely. The
ingenious chromatic scale of our well-tempered system
may not escape. But there is one element which cannot be-
come obsolete, because it is based on a natural unchanging
phenomenon. This is the overtone series and the harmonies
deriving from it. Whether the future musician will wish to
make use of these harmonies is a different, purely aesthetic
question; just as we see that they are not much in use
today. But as an eternal directive, as a pillar of musical
construction, even though their actual expression be
 126 / Tonality in Modern Music
avoided, they cannot be dethroned. Here Lang's previously
quoted words of armed rebellion being seldom, if ever,
successful in art, are especially pertinent.
Today the avant-gardists of musical electronics rejoice
in the thought that there will be no boundaries to their
desire for change and iconoclasm. In reports from Euro-
pean musical festivals in which electronic music begins to
play a part, it is almost amusing to observe how the "old
gentiemen of modern music," Schoenberg and the twelve-
tonists included, are looked upon with benevolent joviality,
like friendly uncles, who are somewhat out of date. Yet
the electronic movement is not even advanced enough to
make its adherents recognize wherein their problem lies.
This problem which, because of the participation of com-
plex technological elements, is more intricate than any
musical problem of past periods, is centred on the question
of how to integrate this music and all that it implies into
the stream of the musical evolution. For here the danger
of plunging into the void is especially acute. The wider,

themore boundless the musical compass, the greater will

become the necessity to bring order into the diversity. In
the vastness of its future territory, music will inevitably

have tochoose between dissolving into chaos or organizing

the infinite. It is the same antagonism that we see today
warring between the contrasting forces of atonality and
pantonality. And with this, after some perhaps lengthy
yet necessary excursions, we return to our actual subject.
 Chapter 4

The Role of Pantonality

as a General Synthesis

In the foregoing deductions we tried, first through

direct description, later by more indirect methods, to de-
velop a picture of the types of compositional formation
which we have included under the term pantonality. Yet
in spite of our endeavour to view the problem from all
possible angles, there may, even in the minds of those
readers who followed our explanations with some interest,
have remained a slight feeling that the core of our thesis,
i.e., the technical nature of pantonality, was not delineated
in sufficiently concrete terms. Comparedto the way, for
instance, inwhich the idea of twelve-tone composition was
introduced into music, complete with an exact set of rules,
the concept of pantonality as here described may seem to
be of a somewhat generalized, almost indefinite character.
Such objections, however, though they may seem justi-
]
fied in point of fact, are nevertheless based on false
premises. Quite apart from the fact that this writer would
certainly not feel himself authorized to issue rules for a
new method of composing, the two conceptions are of an
incommensurable nature. "Composition with twelve tones"
refers to a technique, a compositional category per-
i.e.,

haps somewhat comparable —

though the comparison is
only partially applicable —
to the fugal technique. Panto-
nality, on the other hand, is a general compositional con-
cept, as is tonality or atonality. It cannot be defined by a
rigid scheme or by a set of rules, but can be made com-
prehensible only by describing its nature and effect, by
examining its divers facets and qualities. Pantonality re-
mains a tendency, an approximation, as were tonality and
atonality. There was never absolute tonality demonstrable
in any musical composition, nor absolute atonality; they
are but concepts, as is pantonality yet by virtue of being
127
 128 / Tonality in Modern Music
concepts they were no less real, for they constituted the
directions which determined the course of music.
Here it may be permissible to interpolate a personal
recollection. At a time when the twelve-tone technique had
been in use for only a few years, the author asked the
following question of a young but well-known composer:
"What caused you to shift from your previous style, in
which you were obviously able to express yourself suc-
cessfully, to the new technique?" After a slight hesitation
the following answer was given: "It was not a question of
being able or unable to express myself sufficiently. I
realized — —
and this seemed alluring to me that in no other
type of musical writing would I have to overcome such
'resistance of the material' as in the twelve-tone tech-
nique. That was the reason I turned to it."
Subjectively, this statement — which certainly was en-
tirely sincere — pointed to a highly ethical artistic attitude.
For it showed an inner conviction on the part of the com-
poser not to let any sacrifice stand between himself and his
goal. Yet coming closer to the core of the problem, one
could wonder whether the desire to overcome technical
difficulties is really an inherent part of the creator's task.
A composer should certainly not shun difficulties but there
is no reason either why he should search for them. The

question which alone seems artistically important is

whether the result conforms with his creative vision, rather
than how he attains this result.
It may be helpful to return to our comparison of the
twelve-tone technique with the fugal technique and try to
evaluate some facets of this analogy. The first fact that
comes to mind is that fugues, or for that matter passa-
caglias, are difficult only from a beginner's point of view,
while viewed from a higher aspect they actually represent
easier methods of composition. They demand less of the
composer's imagination, since the pattern of their struc-
ture is in a sense predetermined. Naturally, this does not
imply that there are not many fugues and passacaglias of
highest rank. But the achievement lies in the fact that the
composer was able to produce real works of art, not be-
cause of the technical patterns he had to fulfil but almost
 Pantonality / 129

in spite of having to adjust the flow of his imagination to a

given technical scheme.
In view of all this one begins to wonder whether a
composer turning to the twelve-tone technique as "the
most difficult way
of expression," does not harbour deep in
his heart thehidden hope that here for once he would be
on safe ground; that here he would be less exposed to the
danger of occasionally not knowing how to give his
thoughts a definite form, in fact, sometimes to let "form"
replace thought. This desire for protection, this fear of
perhaps being lost in the ocean of modern musical ex-
pression, was certainly at least one of the reasons why
quite a few composers turned, and still turn, to this
technique.
Conversely, it is significant that in recent years these
same composers show an ever-increasing tendency to
loosen the rigid application of the technique, in fact, to
make of it something which is almost the opposite of its
original idea. Earlier we described the trend in detail; and
if to this is added the observation previously advanced,

that in the realm described as pantonality all kinds of

atonal or twelve-tone shapes may be and are included,
one cannot but speak of a rapprochement of both spheres.
Indeed, the undeniable fact of such a rapprochement con-
stitutes one of the most significant symptoms in the musi-
cal evolution of our time. But it also presents one of its
most delicate and intricate problems, for its consequences
can only be understood, and a possible solution found, by
taking into careful and unprejudiced consideration all the
divergent forces, general and technical alike. 1
1 Viewed from the aspect advanced above, one of the most in-
our age may assume a new and
teresting musical spectacles of in-
creased meaning: namely, the astounding renaissance of British
music during the last decades, its almost violent re-entrance into
the international musical arena after a lengthy period of relative
creative inactivity. For this renaissance took place as a blending
of the most opposite musical impulses of our time, yet without
yielding to any of their extremes. British music from the begin-
ning of its new phase marched in the forefront of the modern
movement, at times even of its radical wing, but the goal was,
aesthetically speaking, synthesis, not isolation; structurally speak-
ing, integration, not atonality.
 130 / Tonality in Modern Music
In the first place one must not forget that atonality and
the twelve-tone technique, notwithstanding all that may be
said against them, have enriched the compositional range
with a whole world of new possibilities. They have made
available to the composer a host of new melodic types,
new harmonic combinations and, for that matter, new
rhythmical and structural ventures, which otherwise might
never have come into being. The opening up of this new
world of expression, together with the hope that in this
new world one could operate on a firm structural ground,
attracted many composers to the twelve-tone technique.
That by applying this technique, even in the most modified
form, one cuts oneself off at the same time from many
spheres of expression, is the reason why these same com-
posers try to change the rules of the technique, and why
today few of them consider it an exclusive way of com-
posing but prefer to work alternately in twelve-tone and
free style. For as long as the technique is maintained at
all, even in the most modified form, there will always re-

main vast compositional territories which the composer

cannot even approach. Pantonality, on the other hand, can
of its nature embrace any atonal expression and can make
it a part of its own planetary system of multiple tonalities.

Indeed, as a state of fluctuating tonical relationships, pan-

tonality can endow atonal shapes with a new meaning,
make new melodic types into new melodies, new harmonic
combinations into new harmonies, and even make a-rhyth-
mical and a-structural ideas become expressions of a
higher oneness.
In the light of all this it is not surprising that con-
temporary scores of the twelve-tone and of the pantonal
type at first glance often seem not too different. Both
seem above all to radiate away from the tonic-dominant
concept. And the similarity may appear all the stronger in
instances where the twelve-tone work tries to expand be-
yond its own orbit into some tonal domain, and when
pantonal works include as many atonal thoughts as pos-
sible within the design. Nevertheless, and in spite of all
this, there remains a tremendous difference between music
which develops tonal aspects on a higher cycle, though it
 Pantonality / 131

may in part derive from atonal lines (as does pantpnality)

and tonally unrelated music, though it may be modified by
compromise (as is today most of twelve-tone music).
Indeed, the difference, even if on the surface it may not
be conspicuous, is fundamental both in principle and ef-
fect. For pantonality works according to a basically free
principle, not tied to any pattern of formation. Whatever
atonal, twelve-tone or other serial features the "pantonal"
composer may include in his fabric, he includes them
merely when he feels they express what he wishes to say
at that moment and he immediately discards them when-
ever his creative intention calls for some other type of
expression. In contrast, the twelve-tone composer, what-
ever compromise he may admit, whatever freedom from
his rule he may permit himself, always must remain con-
scious that the principle towards which his ideas are dedi-
cated calls for a fixed structure, for a "mechanism"
though it be a mechanism with numerous possibilities, one
which he may even break at will.

The Great Structural Dilemma of Contemporary Music

In this antagonism, therefore, between atonality and
pantonality —an antagonism which, though decreasing in
compositional practice, has not yielded an inch in principle
— one of the main problems, one of the main dilemmas of
contemporary musical construction becomes apparent. It
is a dilemma with which every modern composer is faced,

whether his music be of the serial type or in free style. The

twelve-tone composer, as was described in detail in pre-
ceding pages, finds a firm structural basis in his ever-
recurring row, but in this very firmness he is often tempted
toward a construction without inner harmonic meaning.
No such scheme dominates the shaping of the free-style
composer. He, however, is faced with the opposite danger
of diffusing his thoughts in a design without a clear struc-
tural basis regulating it. In classical music this basis was
provided by the cadential scheme and by thematic co-
herence. Both these regulating elements seem to have be-
come more or less ineffective today, at least in their old
forms of application. How they therefore have to be re-
 132 / Tonality in Modern Music
placed by new
patterns of combinations, may be shown
in two examples.
last
We quote first some groups from the Piano Concerto by
the French composer Andre Jolivet (composed in 1950).
We choose this work with its brilliant orchestral colours as
a sample of an idiom which, as far as the degree of
tonality is concerned, may be considered as fairly illustra-
tive of the free modern style. Of course, in Ex. 14 only
the most essential voices are quoted. To facilitate com-
parison with the full score, reference is made to various
sections by numbers (given in parenthesis) which are to
be found in the score.
The opening group is given in Ex. 14a. An auftakt
soars up and releases a strongly accented chord. The
chord's harmonic constitution is a complex one, yet its
main impulse seems to be centred on D, the dominant of
G, to which as a harmonic centre the whole movement
gradually turns. That this is so, is borne out by all that
follows. For while this harmony is sounded in the piano,
the first violins and trumpets play the opening melody, the
first theme of the work. And this melody, too, is centred

on D as a kind of "melodic tonic." The theme is accom-

panied by a chord played in harmonics by the other
strings. The notes of this chord (B-flat —
E-flat —
F-sharp
— A) are taken from the basic piano harmony just de-
scribed, and together with the remaining D — —
A D form
that complex harmony on which the whole group is
And here is the decisive point: this central har-
focused.
mony and the thematic melody crystallize into one unit.
Not only is the D the basis for both the harmony and the
melody but all the successive corner notes of the melody
coincide with notes of the sustained harmony. We may
trace this note for note. The melody starts with Dwhich,
as just described, is also the focal note of the harmony. In
the next bar the strong note of the melody is E-flat, which
is contained in the harmony. In the following bar the
strong notes are E-flat first, then A
(played by the trom-
bone), which is also contained in the harmony. In the
next bar the strong note is B-flat, which also is a part of
the harmony. It is interesting to note how consciously this
 Pantonality / 133

whole idea is developed. For in bar 4 where the trombone

enters, G-natural (first violin)would normally have been
a strong point of the melody, but since this note is not
contained in the harmony, its entrance is delayed by syn-
copation and, instead, the A
(which is contained in the
harmony) is sounded by the trombone. All this shows how
in good modern music complex harmonies can be used
without resorting to any law of the row or the like, and
still be centred on a structural basis. The melodic and

harmonic concepts of this group are truly one, and it

would be hard to say which formed the main impulse.
In bar 7 the line departs from the D
and descends to
C (bar 8). This chromatic descent is taken from the be-
ginning of the theme. If we regard the initial group as
representing the dominant of G, the harmonic pattern in
the next bars (8 a.ff.) seems to be IV (C — E-flat) fol-
lowed by V (F-sharp D)— — though one should be cau-
tious in applying such terminology to this modern design.
At this point rhythmical accents are introduced which,
gradually supported by a lavish array of percussion in-
struments, lend a characteristic colour to the whole work.
This course, with variants and extensions, continues for
some time, to which at (2) (see score) a part of the
opening theme provides a charming counterpoint in the
pp of the strings. After a reiteration of the opening (4)
the basic tonic G is finally reached at (5). Here a new
melodic line rises in the oboe (Ex. 14b), a "continuation"
of the opening theme, derived from this theme's melodic
material. Again the melodic and harmonic courses merge:
the notes forming the "dissonances" in the piano accom-
paniment are again taken from the melody. Only the basic
G has a purely harmonic value.
At (8) the section of the second theme starts (Ex.
14c). The harmonic point of departure is again the G in
the bass. But soon the design rises in the melody of the
piano to a shape which must be regarded as clearly C-
sharp minor. Yet since the accompanying strings comple-
ment this melody by an elaborate polyphony, the whole
design, notwithstanding the inclusion of this feature of
traditional tonality, does not convey the slightest sugges-
 134 / Tonality in Modern Music
tion of a break in style. This second theme is entirely
different from,even in contrast to, the first. Significantly,
however, its main melodic phrase (G-sharp C-sharp —
— —
E D- sharp C-sharp) nevertheless is found to be a
transposition of the basic contour of the first theme
(bracketed as a and a 1 in the examples).
The second theme is worked out to a full section with
diverse intercrossing tonalities, whereupon the develop-
ment section (12) starts. Its beginning rises from as the G
basic tonic, yet is once more interspersed with different
tonalities.
This section finally leads to the coda (23), the climax
of which is reached at (33) and (34) when finally no less

than five themes combine in one rare, kaleidoscopic, yet

at the same time most transparent, design (Ex. 14d.). It
is worth while to follow the courses of the five themes.

1. The first violins in unison with the first trumpet blare

what is now the main theme, developed in various trans-
formations from the opening theme;

2. The second violins and the third trumpet bang out the
"continuation" of the first theme in a ponderous rhythm;

3 and 4. From the 'cellos and double basses the two "coda
themes" sound, which were first introduced at (24);

5. In addition to all this, the movement's beautiful sec-

ond theme is heard in the bass of the piano, supported by
the horns (34).

Although clearly tonal as well as clearly atonal shapes

emerge within this mass of sound, and although the move-
ment concludes in an almost outspoken G minor, the
final effect is neither tonal nor atonal but something quite
different from both. The reader who does not balk at
studying the score, of which only a very scanty indication
was given here, will soon realize the purpose of this analy-
sis. Here a compositional design is developed which in its

polyphonic web and texture may at first glance seem as if

it were patternless and almost arbitrarily conceived, yet in

reality is centred on an unequivocal structural basis,

 Pantonality / 135

though the composer's imagination is never hemmed

in by
any rule or scheme. And what makes this achievement
possible is the fact that both harmonic and melodic ideas
are in this work equally conceived from a unifying the-
matic impulse.
How a similar goal is attempted through a different
method will be shown in the following and last example.
May the author once more be permitted to quote some
passages from one of his own works, Three Allegories for
Orchestra?
Again the example a kind of reduction in which only
is

the essential design quoted. Ex. 15b shows the work's

is

opening section. The chordal groups in bars 8 and 11

shine out through the instrumentation, which is centred on
harp, celesta, piano and bells. In Ex. 15c some inversions,
extensions and variants of these two chords are given, for
from the idea latent in these two basic chords the whole
work is developed.
Here some contrasts to the twelve-tone technique should
be noted from the outset: first, the fact that the two basic
chords contain one identical note, the E, and accordingly
could contain even more identical notes in other examples;
secondly, that in addition to inversions, contrary motions
and the like, all kinds of free variants of the original idea
However, in common with the struc-
are also applicable.
tural idea of the serial technique, here too, both the
melodies and harmonies are developed from a basic musi-
cal thought, expressed in the specific work by the two
chords. Yet such adherence to the chosen structural basis
is here not a law but merely a general architectural direc-
tive. The main themes are developed more or less as close
variants of that structural pattern, but there are many con-
necting phrases in which the original idea is altered and
even adorned with some new shapes.
Having indicated some general principles we may follow
their application in Ex. 15b. The motivic idea inherent in
the two basic chords can already be traced in the melodic
course of the opening bars (1 —
6). For here from the
strings and winds the combination A— — —
E B F is heard,
while bars 9 — 12 spell C —G —
C-sharp together with F-
 136 / Tonality in Modern Music
natural (in the bass of bar 12), thus expressing two trans-
posed variants of the basic chords.
Is there any vestige of tonality expressed in this shaping,
and if so what is it? Almost every detail of the melodic
contour is decidedly atonal. Nevertheless, if the ear con-
nects any of the corner notes in the design, shapes based
on melodic tonality ("tonality of pitches") emerge, which
are centred on, and aim at, A as their goal. For instance:
A (bar 1)—D-sharp
(bar 7)—
A-flat (11)— (14)— G
(15) or by connecting a lower melodic line: A( 1)
; E(4) —
_B(5)—G(9)—F-sharp (10)—F(12)—E-flat (14)—
A(15). In other words, all lines converge on A but in dif-
ferent, independent ways.
The two quotations
that follow (Ex. 15d and Ex. 15e)
are from the second and third movements of the same
work. Ex. 15d quotes a fugue theme in allegro, while in
Ex. 15e the beginning of the third movement is given,
which is of a lyric or, if the forbidden word is permitted,
almost of a romantic character. Different in mood and
structure from the first movement as these two examples
are, they are nevertheless built from the same chordal idea
in an equally "tonal-atonal" vein.
As indicated earlier, it was the purpose of many of our
last examples to show that, quite apart from the serial
method, music can be developed on a solid technical basis,
even after the classical scheme has been abandoned.
Schoenberg, who turned the abandonment into outright
atonality, quite logically searched for some substitute that
would replace the relinquished ties. He thought he had
found this substitute in the twelve-tone technique. But in
another evolution, composers from Debussy on searched
for a solution in a different direction. Starting from bito-
nality and related phenomena on the basis of an ever-
closer unification of melodic and harmonic ideas these
composers developed a state of higher tonalities, of cross-
from which gradually an entirely new struc-
ing tonalities,
tural concept evolved: pantonality.
Ofcourse, in this study, atonality and pantonality had to
be described as the two stylistic antipodes which they ac-
tually were according to their historic origin, their tech-
 Pantonality / 137

nical design and their artistic ambitions. But if the evolu-

tion continues according to all indications presented by
recent developments, it may during coming years become
one of the specific tasks of some future theoretician to
trace the changesand new functions which the diverse ex-
pressions of the serial technique (twelve-tone and other-
wise) will assume when they are applied within, and as
parts of, a free style.
Thus in spite of all fundamental differences in principle,
musical practice works for a rapprochement. As numerous
examples from very divergent musical provinces have
shown, recent, even utterly contrasting, musical styles of-
ten have one trend in common: they part equally from
unconditional tonality and unconditional atonality, en-
deavouring to create something new, a third concept. Here
pantonality's highest and final function becomes visible: as
the great synthesis within the musical tendencies of our
age. Of and atonality
course, in their pure forms tonality
constitute two contrasting, two irreconcilable principles.
But as was shown in detail in the preceding pages, if ato-
nality retains its dogma in name only; and if tonality
evolves into that higher state where the cadential circle is
no longer the frame in which the expression is embedded
but where, instead, a multitude of tonical relationships in-
tensify, counteract and annul each other, so that finally
their spirit rather than their mechanism is a compositional
directive, then tonality and atonality may wondrously in-
terpenetrate and pantonality becomes the great unifier. It
may unify tonality and atonality and, in its highest emana-
tions, even combine all three — tonality, atonality and
itself, pantonality — into one universal style of organic free-
dom.
In general, we can observe an indication, perhaps more
than an indication, of this tendency towards a synthesis of
contrasts in one of the most conspicuous, yet little dis-
cussed characteristics of the modern style and we speak —
in this connexion of "style," fully aware of the dangers
that the use of this equivocal term often implies. It is the
fact that there is on the one hand hardly a period detect-
able in history in which one can observe such an abun-
 138 / Tonality in Modern Music
dance of different, often contradictory, idioms side by
side, as in the music of our era: expanded tonality, mo-
dality, polytonality, atonality, twelve-tone technique, neo-
classicism, neo-romanticism, matter-of-fact style, exoticism,
machine music, electronic music, etc. etc. Incommensur-
able categories are intentionally placed side by side in this
list, for in the last analysis each of these trends includes
some aesthetic as well as technical and even chronological
features. Yet from all this diversity one common denomi-
nator, one unifying soundrings through: the true musical
language of our time.
In all this there may be included positive as well as
negative factors, on which no judgment one way or the
other should here be passed. What should be stressed is
only the astounding variety within a common search.
Particular stylistic by-ways are thus emerging. First, a fre-
quent tendency of individual composers to express them-
selves through distinctly different techniques, indeed,
through entirely antagonistic musical vernaculars in differ-
ent works and even in different parts of the same work.
Also some specific shades in between the main roads of
the evolution, as for instance a certain method of struc-
tural formation for which Nicolas Slonimsky coined the
term "pandiatonicism," 2 come into this category. The term
refers to a principle of formation, applied by Strawinsky
and others, in which tonality would reign in the vertical
sense but where no corresponding tonal idea directs the
horizontal succession.
Fascinating as all this non-uniformity appears, is it not
a symptom of a desire for a more definite and unequivocal
style of musical expression, hidden behind the glittering
fagade of this manifoldness?
Dimitri Mitropoulos, the conductor, once surprised a
visitor with some original thoughts on twelve-tone music. 3
Briefly, what Mr. Mitropoulos hopes for seems to be the

2 See N. Slonimsky, Music since 1900 also referred to in the

f

Harvard Dictionary of Music.

3 As related in Music Makers by Roland Gelatt, A. Knopf, New

York, 1953.
 Pantonality / 139

advent of a kind of twelve-tone music filled with Ravel-

like flavour and appeal.
Such a thought may at first appear to be an amusing
paradox intended to avoid the solution of an insoluble
problem. But does it not in a charming and intentionally
naive manner express one of the most profound longings
of our musical age? Do not all of us dream of music in
which all the novel, intricate and violent features of the
most radical creations of our time would still emanate the
beauty of humanity of the perhaps simpler but more
straightforward musical structures of bygone ages?
AESTHETIC EPILOGUE
Chapter 1

Romantic Anfi-Romanticism

In the Harvard Dictionary of Music 1 a surprising sentence

heads an important paragraph. The sentence is surprising
for it contains a statement of so subjective a nature that
one might expect to find it in an aesthetic monograph but

hardly in a work of reference otherwise so reliable and

objective as is the Harvard Dictionary. The sentence reads:

"New music is, briefly stated, anti-Romanticism." 2 In-

—
deed as simple as that!
The statement is not only debatable but also inherently
vague. First of all, the vast domain of "new music" (how-
ever this term be defined) cannot be interpreted as con-
trolled by any single aesthetic impulse. Secondly, serious
difficulties immediately arise when one proceeds to analyse
what musical romanticism as an aesthetic category really
implies. For the terms such as subjectivity, emotionalism,
etc., by which it is usually explained, are no more than
tautological slogans, problematic in themselves.

1 Harvard Dictionary of Music by Willi Apel, Harvard University

Press, 1953.
2 That this generalization is not just a casual remark but the ex-
pression of a systematic aesthetic view can be shown by further
quotations. Whoever is responsible for this segment of the Dic-
tionary's definitions, certainly went too far when he stated (under
"Expression") "that among today's performers the most common
:

fault is the application of a highly expressive treatment to non-

Romantic music, such as . . Beethoven." And further: "In view
.

of all these tendencies nothing seems to be more important for the

student than to learn to play without expression. Only the student
who has learned to play Bach's Chromatic Fantasia or Beethoven's
Appassionata in the most rigid way will be able to add that
amount of nuances and shades which these works properly re-
quire." Ideas like these are not only out of date as they represent,
at best, a reiteration of some aesthetic tenets of a quarter of a
century ago, but they were in fact even then not more than fad-
dish, theoretical formulations which no performer of rank ever
followed.

143
 144 / Tonality in Modern Music
If there is any aesthetic musical term which in the eter-
nal dialectic process of the evolution has constantly
changed, and is still changing its meaning, it is romantic-
ism. And logically, therefore, anti-romanticism as an al-
leged contrast to a concept already vague in itself, is

vaguer than vague.

Trying to disentangle at least a few of the complexities
involved, some historical facts should be recalled. The
term anti-romanticism sprang up in aesthetic discussions
around the turn of the century as a wholesome reaction
against certain types of cheap sentimentality which had
taken hold of some parts of the musical production. It was
directed against a number of composers and critics, then
forming the majority, who fought the new style by declar-
ing it dry and lacking in feeling. The modernists quickly
struck back, not only admitting but boasting of that lack. 3
However, in continuation of this tendency which in itself
may have been justified, not only sentimentally but any
emotional undercurrent which enlivened a musical com-
position was finally declared taboo. Indeed, the develop-
ment went so far that what amounted to a dogma was
introduced, claiming that if a musical work were to have
any personal appeal and create a direct impression on the
listener, suspect it of being of lower
one could justly
artistic quality. Now may
well be true that immediate
it

appeal does not always vouch for artistic profundity. How-

ever, one should not forget that lack of appeal does not
prove it either. In this whole matter it would seem that

3 Here Romanticism is of course understood as a purely aesthetic

category. However, the term has, as is well known, a strong
chronological connotation, as it refers to the music of much of
the nineteenth century, from the later Beethoven on to Wagner
and Brahms and even Bruckner and Mahler. In an aesthetic sense
the controversy was later explained as that of subjective, emotional
and non-structural music, as opposed to objective, non-emotional
and structural. This seemingly factual distinction, however, is
scarcely based on fact. The music of the great and even outspoken
romanticists, such as Schumann, Chopin, Wagner, Brahms, is
deeply centred on structure, while in certain modern works of the
most anti-romantic type, as for instance in some of the so-called
machine music, structure is reduced to a minimum.
 Aesthetic Epilogue / 145

formulations are used to divert attention from the real

issue.
Certainly, obstrusive personal sentiment often conceals
or, as the case may be, even emphasizes vulgarity of feel-
ing and thought. Correspondingly, however, pure struc-
turalism and "objectivity" may mean the dehumanization
of art. Musical shapes remain matter, unless by
lifeless
transcending their own nature they become part of Man's
metaphysical heart-beat.
Of course, the truly problematic, almost grotesque char-
acter of the whole argument broke into the open when
anti-romanticism became not only a refuge for lack of
imagination and emptiness of expression but, astoundingly,
during recent times even reversed its own meaning. For
the tendency to avoid emotion became amazingly emo-
tional, the factual attitude became personalized. Subjec-
tive, indeed romantic, expression crept into the neatly
prepared structures and rows. Then, in the electronic
musical experiments, an outburst of super-romantic, often
sentimental sound filled the air.
Paradoxical as it may seem, this development is not
without logic. For in atonality, anti-romanticism was a fit-
ting aesthetic hiding-place for the lack of a positive goal,
but it cannot be maintained in the wake of pantonality.
Soon romanticism which in practical music has already
made many inroads will also stage a theoretical comeback.
This does not mean that the term as such will be resumed.
New slogans will spring up and they may feign very differ-
ent, even contrasting aesthetic goals. Such a pretence may
seem all the more plausible because of the tremendous
changes in the musical vernacular and in all media of
musical expression that have taken place in the meantime.
Still, the impulse behind the new slogans will not be much

different from that of the romantic approach, as there are

in art only a few basic categories —categories which con-
stantly disappear and constantly reappear. In the final
analysis all these aesthetic antagonisms, such as romantic
versus anti-romantic, subjective versus objective, and the
like, are but contrasts in terminology. Their meaning
 146 / Tonality in Modern Music
changes with every new wave. They are finally merely
aesthetic vehicles, if not camouflages, for the only lasting
antagonism: vitality versus sterility. Indeed, the highest
artistic truth phenomena lies in the fact that all
of these
these trendscome and go; that the truly creative genius
who introduces them, and under whose impulse they may
direct the compositional course of a whole generation, also
implants within his own work the seed which will finally
destroy them. The romantic and the anti-romantic camps
will always each maintain that they and they alone are
right. Yet they will both be the losers when music is the
winner.
Chapter 2

Each Time Engenders its

—
Art Art Generates the Time

In the course of this study an attempt was made to

draw a picture, if still somewhat summarizingly, of a new
compositional concept which so far has not been the sub-
ject of theoretical investigation. Yet there is no doubt that
many composers of today must be conscious of its exist-
ence, or at least apply it instinctively. Pantonality was
chosen as the linguistic symbol for this new trend, to de-
note its fundamental independence from both atonality and
tonality, which are so often regarded as the only possibili-
ties of the evolution. Although, therefore, in the light of
our deductions atonality and pantonality represent diver-
gent principles, and pantonality was thought to be the trend
that would finally emerge as the more comprehensive and
more enduring idea, our presentation was nevertheless
careful not to picture atonality as a negligible or inartistic
movement. For not only was it the evolutional purpose of
atonality, paradoxical as this may appear, to prepare pan-
tonality, but finally even to become a part of it, although
atonality may in this process have to forfeit some of its
own nature. And this refers not only to atonality as a spe-
cific principle but to all its technical components: to its

harmonic and melodic elements, its rhythmical character-

istics and even to its aesthetic parallel, anti-romanticism.
It constitutes one of the fascinating experiences of our
musical age to witness this development by which one
compositional concept provides the other with much of its
technical material and in the process changes its very na-
ture and direction. The inquiring mind may well ask
whether these startling events correspond to some general
changes in the spiritual structure of our time.

During the last decades there has been a tendency to

understand and describe the development of the arts not
147
 148 / Tonality in Modern Music
as an independent process detached from the general evo-
lution but as a part of the broader stream of spiritual and
social events through which human history is manifested.
Music in particular, since its medium of expression is only
loosely connected with the objects and happenings of the
outer world, although it on the
exerts a strong appeal
human mind, was long considered as an almost isolated
domain. Its aesthetic demands and the conditions of its
structural mechanism were thought to follow their own
laws, which seemed to bear no relation to any non-musical
experience. Today this view has been entirely changed and
a number of enlightening studies have taught us to realize
how, often even to the point of the most subtie nuances,
music is influenced by its time.
If this influence of the time on its art is today a gener-
ally accepted fact, there is another stream of forces which
is much less recognized, although its effect in moulding

history may be no less far-reaching. It is the stream of

forces by which art influences its time.
That the day's happenings recur in our dreams is a fa-
miliar story — but do not dreams also shape reality? If so,
where is the final reality?
Our own age is an extraordinary one. In the several
thousand years of human civilization there was never a
time so full of promise yet so threatening. Of course, if we
look soberly back into history, we must admit that the
world was always torn by confusion and catastrophes of all
kinds. But today this whole state has reached such a peak
that our human species is now literally threatened with ex-
tinction. Although this is the general picture, the majority
of people, still desirous of happiness as individuals, look
with a mixture of fear and bewilderment on a world which
they themselves collectively have created.
Out of what does this overflow of destructive forces
come?
The fact will not have escaped attentive observers that
our present state of excess and the evaporation of fixed
values was already foretold some decades ago in a specific
realm: the arts. At that time, of course, few people, least
of all the artists themselves, took this seriously or, to state
 Aesthetic Epilogue / 149

it more accurately, thought of any relationship between

nihilism in art and murder and deceit,
in the real world. If
insanity and death became the main impulses from which
the subject matter and spirit of artistic creation were nur-
tured, this was, it was thought, because here the most in-
teresting and most profound problems of the human psyche
were rooted. Could perversion and crime or the orgy of
dissonance harm anyone as long as they were realized only
in the dream-world of art?
Life soon gave the answer in a horribly affirmative way.
Sins in which one rejoices in the inner domain of the mind
cannot but finally become outer realities. In the writings of
Lewis Mumford, 1 one of the most stimulating and sincere
thinkers of our time, one may find an abundance of facts
pointing to this frightful parallelism.
Thus it cannot be wondered at, that we observe many
people who, searching for a rescue from this terrifying
state, renounce modern art as a whole and, in fact, would
like to impose a moral or even a legal ban on it.
The problem, however, is not as simple as that. Not
only is such a return to the pleasures of the Victorian age
artistically undesirable, since actually it would elevate the
non-creative and mediocre to the central role, but, above
all, it is utterly impossible. A
turning back of the rolling
wheel of history was often attempted but never effected.
Indeed, what is necessary is not the way back, but a
deeper understanding of the nature and purpose of art and
its material, and of their relationship to life. We will never

be able to change reality as long as we cannot change our

dreams.

The Ivory Tower

Today when the dreams have become shudderingly true
and when reality has robbed them of the last vestige of
charm which even perverted dreams have, the artist, real-
izing the ineffectiveness of further horror, sometimes tries
to withdraw into esoteric isolation, into a kind of re-
4See for instance the chapters "Renewal in the Arts" and "Irra-
tionalElements in Art and Politics" in Mumford's study In the
Name of Sanity, Harcourt, Brace and Company, New York, 1954.
 150 / Tonality in Modern Music
actionary modernism, where quasi-scientific ambitions re-
place creative impulses and keep the uninitiated out of his
bleak sanctuary.
Of course, when observers warned that modern music,
if it were to continue on its present road, would find itself
banished to an ivory tower, the aestheticians of the alleged
avant-garde promptly picked up the gauntlet. The modern
composer, they declared, must not only realize that the
ivory tower is his lot but he must strive for it and rejoice
in it. Such a separation of art and life, they held, may ac-
tually prove one of the great catalysts of the coming age,
through which human evolution will mysteriously progress
into a higher and unknown existence. In the highest
achievements of musical art, such as many of the works of
Bach and of Beethoven's last period, this state, according
to that opinion, was already anticipated.
In a sense, such an attitude is almost understandable as
a reaction against the contrasting contention that genuine
art must have an immediate appeal to everyone, that the
"masses" are the final judge of artistic value. Unfortu-
nately, however, such a belief is no less questionable or, at
least, is a vast over-simplification. But its being question-
able does not render the theory of the ivory tower more
convincing. For the ivory tower which surrounded some of
the truly great art of the ages was not sought by the artist
but was imposed on him by the outer world. The artist
suffered from this agonizing isolation. He may at times
have been forced by inner necessity to create shapes for
which he was condemned to an ivory tower; the impulse,
however, behind such creation was then invariably a long-
ing to break down the tower, to prove that he was unjustly
sentenced.
But we must return to our subject and to its specific do-
main. In the musical iconoclasm of our time everything
which seemed firm and unassailable in the universe of
sound appears shaken to the ground. Phenomena which
were thought to be of timeless validity are not only ques-
tioned but declared non-existent: thematic thinking, to-
nical coherence, rhythmical symmetry, as well as the
antithesis consonance versus dissonance. In a sense such a
:
 Aesthetic Epilogue / 151

dethronement may be a blessing even for the further de-

velopment of these phenomena themselves, as it will help
to prevent their petrification. And when, as certainly as
day follows night, they re-emerge, rising in a new palin-
genesis, they may have changed their surfaces, their forms
and technical roles, but not their innermost nature and
purpose. Pantonality, already in the making, is a sign of
their rebirth. And as for dissonance, it is the most wonder-
ful, the most fundamental of all devices on which musical
creation has thrived for centuries and will thrive again and
again, ever increasing in importance and degree. Yet it
owes its very existence only to the fact of being a deviation
from, and thus a part of, consonance, of that higher har-
mony, indeed reality, of which music and life itself are but
symbolic expressions.
MUSICAL ILLUSTRATIONS
 Melodic Tonality

Ex.1 Jewish Chant (according- to Idelsohn)

i-ff— » _

c-i £

hj a4j
=^=i j . ,.ij
J.- j y. j # *

«* . ->
(ty T
h r^ -a
*•

_^_^_^
x ,
w^

f
Mozart: W* JTa^ /V«/tf
<C) _j. 9 g. 2g. w

155
156 / Musical Illustrations

The Tonality of Debussy

1&.2 DeTrossy: Rt/Ieis dans Vea&

. .
ftAt
IT^ *9 *0 St
las
^3=B^
^ S r? Jr "*s-*
 Musical Illustrations / 157

<fe>

^3 us §» fpp 5J- ,
\i
*7 68 09 60

ebussyt la CalhtdraU engtculie

(f) *£?,
 158 / Musical Illustrations

Emerging Tonal Complexity

Ex.3 Egon Welles*: Alkestis t S923

 Musical Illustrations / 159

SCHOENBERGS TWELVE-TONE TECHNIQUE

Ex.4 Schoenberg: String Quartet No.

Allegro mo I to energico

In the foregoing example the row in its entirety is seen

to permeate each group. notes of the second chord in
The
bar 3 of our example should be numbered 1-3-2 rather
than 1-2-3.
 160 / Musical Illustrations

The Twelve-Tone Technique of Alban Berg

Ex.5 Berg: Violin Concerto .. ^

*&m^

(c) ,2 s *^ - s~>- « ^-^ * —

-*^» V—
2
T"^
5
g g-

i^f— —
4 7 8 1 j. 12 3

+J #J 1 4^ ^

-±y.
¥* TZTTTTT..
 Musical Illustrations / 161

(tf) Chorale melody

The examples from Berg's Violin Concerto,

are taken
his last finished composition. This concerto, apart from its
artistic value, is in a sense a historic document within the
development of modern music. Written in 1935, that is at
a comparatively early stage of the twelve-tone era, it con-
stitutes in many of its parts the
already far-reaching
first,
relaxation of the rules established by Schoenberg. The ac-
tual twelve-tone technique is to a great extent abandoned,
yet its spirit is maintained and even enriched through new
variants and freer ways of application.
In Ex. 5a the row which constitutes the basic structural
shape of the composition is given. In Ex. 5b the concerto's
opening bars are quoted. As the numbers affixed to the
single notes show, the shapes are in no sense derivatives of
the row. Several notes are even repeated before the twelve-
tone cycle is completed: for instance G
(1) from the first
bar, re-emerges in the second bar; A
(5) from the second
bar re-emerges in the third, etc. Thus there is no question
of the row being the structural directive. The twelve-tone
idea is maintained merely by the introduction of all the
aotes of the chromatic compass in the opening bars, with
 162 / Musical Illustrations
However, it is
G-sharp (8) following in the fourth bar.
motivic point of view the
important to observe that from a
a picture of transparent logic and
whole design presents
symmetry. . .
(beginning ot fcx.
This method continues up to bar 11
takes control—
5c) where the real twelve-tone technique
Here the row is easily perceivable,
at least for a while.
starting from G (1) in the bass,
followed by B-flat (2)
again in the
and D (3) in the upper chords, F-sharp (4)
be noted, are quite openly
bass, etc. These chords, it

harmonies. Then, in the fifth bar ot

shaped as overtone
the example the actual row is heard as
a thematic umt,
played by the solo violin. A few bars later—no longer

quoted in our example—the violin plays the

row in in-

version. ,
example, 5d, quotes a much-discussed
partoi
The last
a Bach chorale sets in. The
the work, where the melody of
which is ac-
chorale melody is played by the solo violin
companied by a viola line the beginning of which is itself

As a second counterpoint
taken from the chorale melody.
transposed row is heard from the bass
played by the
the
contra bassoon. The four notes of the chorale melody
first

correspond to the last four notes of the row,

and in the
example the bassoon plays a part of the
sixth bar of our
But apart from the phrases just men-
row in inversion.
to the row
tioned this design is again without adherence
not even in the twelve-
or its mirror forms and is actually
tone vein. ,

Yet we see here the clear attempt to blend the twelve-

ideas into one
tone technique, that is, atonality, and tonal
composer wished to em-
unified style. Howstrongly the
that he intro-
phasize this intention can be seen in the fact
duced the chorale melody with the key signature of B-flat
in parenthesis, and that he
major, which he then notated
later before the entrance of the fully
harmonized chorale
(last bar of our example), inserted
the same key signature,
this time without parenthesis.
it is not claimed that
Certainly, this type of structure is
part of our study is de-
identical with what in another
The complex interrelationships and
scribed as pantonality.
 Musical Illustrations / 163

interpenetrations of diverse and contrasting tonalities

which characterize that style are not included in Berg's
structural concepts. Yet a synthesis of tonal and atonal
elements, as well as of formations of the twelve-tone
and free type, is clearly established both in the above
example and in various other sections of the same work.
And this trend is strikingly continued and increased in
many works of today, although their composers "officially"
still adhere to the twelve-tone label.
 164 / Musical Illustrations

Two Contrasting Structural Types

IBelaBartbk

Ex. 6 Bart ok Moslc for

t String" Instruments, Percussion and Celesta
Adagio
4 h; a. m,
Timp.
_ rubate
3 3 3 3

Xjlo.

UlTjl ' 1

Vc.

r b,
ban 1
- —
fr^tr****** <fy~~* *r~
Ti/np.

Mtm ¥tti »»>»wU)»»wi<M%»»v»vMw»t v»»vxvw » * v»»ix»<*»

Mft^0/^m0»M0Mytty¥U¥»it0tiyt0itititi»m0ti>ttAm vt i
Musical Illustrations / 165

^VWA ifr »<^»»%»»»%»%%«<V»%*%»»»»»i»H

 166 / Musical Illustrations

II Anton Webern

tx. 7 Webern* Five Movements for String Quartet

 Musical Illustrations / 167

im>
 168 / Musical Illustrations

A Rhythmical Pattern prom Strawinsky

Ex. S Stravinsky: L'Histoire du soldat

Tfcmb.

\lft.
 Musical Illustrations / 169

Hindemith's Polyrhythm

Ex.9 Hinderrulh: Eiano Concerto

Oboe
Horn
(a)

nP~T ^T i
— ^^ , ~} '
~K
Clarinet

Bassoon
Trombone
t r t r

(
Piano
I
PP p
J ^"^ I . L .

( A. j r r r r * r^^^L_ * # =
 170 / Musical Illustrations

The example is taken from Hindemith's Concerto for

Piano and Twelve Solo Instruments (Kammermusik, No.
2), 1924. Though it is true polyrhythm, Hindemith skil-
fully manages to make this feature not too much of a
hurdle for the performer. In Ex. 9a especially, the con-
ductor may, after having given the pianist his cue, happily
cling to the orchestra and leave it to the pianist's own
musicianship to adjust his \ rhythm to the regular \ flow
of the orchestra. In the variant of Ex. 9b, with the trumpet
joining in the \ rhythm of the piano, the situation is a
shade more ticklish. But even here with a little rehearsal
the balance will soon be restored, only all the partici-
if

pants clearly feel the underlying eighth note beat, which

is the common rhythmical denominator for both contrast-

ing motions.

Charles Ives
Ex. 10 Tvest Tone Ponds No.
Andante eon moto
%a) Chi mes • -
3 ' - 2.

1» 1 Z 3 10 1%
 Musical Illustrations / 171
This example should create a minor sensation among
twelve-tone circles. For here Ives in 1915 (that is, almost
a decade before Schoenberg's similar endeavour)
opened
one of his compositions with a clear twelve-tone theme.
Moreover, he repeated it in the following group in an al-
most Schoenbergian manner: namely by preserving the
notes of the series literally, but changing their rhythmical
and metrical qualities. In the reception only tone number
12 (C) is replaced by another note. Other
voices, how-
ever, which join the twelve-tone line contrapuntally, do
not adhere to the row (see score).

Ires: 'Concord* Sonata

Starting slowly and qvUtl?

(b>
/^iffl

Sva lower.
 172 / Musical Illustrations

Since in the general section of this study there was little

opportunity to elaborate on Ives' many novel structural
ideas, a few observations may now be inserted. Naturally,
the brief examples quoted above give less than an intima-
tion of the wide range of his palette. Neither, however,
would the addition of more and lengthier quotations have
sufficed to convey even an approximate idea of the inner
artistic atmosphere emanating from his creations. For Ives
was one of the few innovators in the history of musical art.
After years of artistic isolation and frustrating efforts to
have his music heard and understood, Ives, who died in
1954 at the age of eighty, now begins to attract attention. 1
However, the true importance of his achievement and the
potentialities it holds for the future are still far from being
fully comprehended. The essence of this achievement in
an evolutional sense can perhaps best be indicated by
viewing it in comparison with that of other composers of
the period. The polyphony of Schoenberg and his fol-

1For authentic material on Ives see Henry and Sidney Cowell's

comprehensive study Charles Ives, Oxford University Press, New
York, 1955.
 Musical Illustrations / 173
lowers, for instance, much as it may surpass previous ways
of formation with regard to harmonic concepts and pat-
i terns of grouping, still remains a polyphony of single lines,
I
even of diversified, melodically autonomous lines. So
if

j
also Strawinsky's polyphonic web, which in spite of all
is

its effects and whims of varied rhythm and colour,

!

is still
!
more clearly rooted in the classical example. But Ives for
the first time in history establishes, or at least tries to
establish, in quite a number of his compositions a polyph-
ony of groups. A polyphony in which the elements are not
lines but musical entities which carry within them-
full
selves their harmonic and contrapuntal life.
In fact, almost all the other characteristic features of his
style: his much discussed polyrhythm, his entirely
free way
of phrasing and grouping, even his frequent blending of
outspokenly tonal and outspokenly atonal elements, and
sometimes even his peculiar notation, are often but con-
sequences of his concept of group polyphony. It is par-
ticularly impressive to observe how this idea of
group po-
lyphony often becomes the architectural basis not only of
his gigantic formations, as for instance his
Fourth Sym-
phony, but even of some of his simplest and humblest cre-
ations, ascan be seen from his composition for orchestra,
The Unanswered Question. The strings, the winds and the
solo trumpet, which here constitute three entirely
divergent
groups, symbolizing Man's age-old question and
the
world's noisy answer, are still forged into a perfect
unit,
[ndeed, in such designs the essential problem, of which
re-
sent imitators of Ives often seem to be little
aware, is
whether such divergent groups can be unified in one ar-
tistic organization. In the time of Gabrieli double choirs
were not faced with this difficulty. For multiplicity
of
groups was then in a sense an external feature, all
groups
still progressing on a common
melodic-harmonic or quasi-
aarmonic ground. But in modern music, as Ives imagined
% the independence and diversity of groups goes deeper.
Ajid this diversity can only be—
and is often by Ives
reconciled through those very cross-relations
of "tonalities
3f a higher order" which are extensively
described in this
 174 / Musical Illustrations

study. Ives, to be sure, remained in part of his work an

experimenter. In trying to realize dreams he sometimes
broke the clay before he was able to mould it into the
finished work. Yet at other times his genius led him far
beyond mere experiment and he became a true creator of
new musical beauty. Thus he reached farther into the fu-
ture than others who in a technical sense may have come
nearer to their goal.

Pierre Boulez' A-Thematic Serial Structure

Ex. 11 Boniest Sonata No.l

Lento J s 68 A
r
 Musical Illustrations / 175

Benjamin Britten's "Tonal Multitonality"

Ex.12 BrUtent The Rape of lucrelto

%ib.sempr&
»• iJft->L^*d~

Since time com-mene'd or life be «

nr i
*m y 'Wjj,j.
. yn'j!
176 / Musical Illustrations

~" tf
 Musical Illustrations / 177

Aaron Copland
Ex.13 Copland: Symphony No.c
(a) Allegro molto Tpt.Str.
_ Horns
— -2fc
> > —^
==~— =»• =* a.
tr-G 1 1

NU* nJ v fcgjfc.
: 7
I

"*
© © ©
a
\k£S=4
tap.®
— fr =
«/*

*In the score this upper group written for trumpets in B-flat is
notated in flats.
 178 / Musical Illustrations

Andrb Jouvet

Ex.14 JotWett Ptano Concerto

(a) Allegro deciso
J = 144

Orchestra
 Musical Illustrations / 179

Oboe
1

"if

Piano J^t
—fed
->€|» g «g»
1
— •
—« |
—t-
it><" I
—««j
- J 1'
z.
"-TO r >> -frw
r
i i
180 / Musical Illustrations
 Musical Illustrations / 181

Rudolph Rbh

Ex. 15 Rett: The Dead Mourn the living

'
Adagio (J = 52)
<a) I

nf Z
— i
PP
1 -,
**f== —PP :=a {simile)

«S3

/
r =—— 1 : ?ct , ... Tj^:9—

9J

dim in.
J K-
~r ^- —

( J
?O^^^ -q* jl^SL' ~^* 4
' 1

4?
^fc-i
I
m LI __ _
 182 / Musical Illustrations

RetU Three Allegories for Orchestra

o Harp, Celesta,

"4
Cymb.fr*'
4
3
I
2 y Piano, Bells

Strings
 Musical Illustrations / 183

In example (c) the top note of the

second basic chord should be
A-flat rather than A.
Acknowledgments

idelsohn Jewish Music: Its Historical Development

Copyright by Henry Holt and Company,
New York.
debussy Reflets dans Veau
Autorisation Durand & Cie Editeurs pro-
prietaries, Paris.
La Cathedrale engloutie
Autorisation Durand & Cie Editeurs pro-
prietaries, Paris.
wellesz Alkestis
Copyright 1923, renewed 1951, by Uni-
versal Edition, Vienna.
SCHOENBERG String Quartet No. 4
Copyright 1939 by G. Schirmer, Inc., New
York.
berg Violin Concerto
Copyright 1936 by Universal Edition,
Vienna.
bartok Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta
Copyright 1937 by Universal Edition
(London) Ltd.
Copyright for the United States assigned
Boosey & Hawkes Inc.
WEBERN Five Movements for String Quartet
Copyright 1922, renewed 1949, by Uni-
versal Edition, Vienna.
strawinsky L'Histoire du Soldat
Copyright by J. W. Chester Ltd., London.
hindemith Kammermusik No. 2.
Copyright 1924, renewed 1952, by B.
Schott's Soehne, Mainz.
IVES Tone Roads No. 3
Copyright 1952 by PeerInternational Cor-
poration, New
York.
Piano Sonata No. 2
Copyright 1947 by Arrow Music Press,
Inc., New York.

185
 186 / Acknowledgments
boulez Piano Sonata No. 1
By courtesy of the Amphion, Editions Mu-
sicales, Paris.
Britten The Rape of Lucretia
Copyright 1946 by Boosey & Hawkes Ltd.
Used by permission.
Copland Symphony No. 3
Copyright 1947 by Boosey & Hawkes Ltd.
Used by permission.
JOLIVET Piano Concerto
Copyright 1953 by Heugel & Cie., Paris.
RETI The Magic Gate
Copyright 1957 by Broude Brothers, New
York,
INDEX
 Index

Alkestis (Wellesz), 52/z, 156 ill. Bruckner, Anton, 51, 144n

American music, 48, 61/z, 82, 108, Busoni, Ferruccio, 79
117, 118, 124« Buxtehude, Dietrich, 37
Anti-romanticism, 143-45, 147
Apel, Willi, 143/z Casella, Alfredo, 79
A-rhythm and pan-rhythm, 98- Cathedrale engloutie, La, 46,
108, 125 157 ill.
Art and the time, influence of, Chopin, Frederic Francois, 78,
147-51 144n
A-thematic music, 114-19, 125, Classical music, 20, 26-31, 33, 38-
174 ill. 39, 46, 47, 77, 84, 98-99, 109,
Atonality, 18-20, 51-73, 83, 86-87, 110-11, 112, 120, 131
89, 93, 100-03, 111, 112-13, Colour in music, evolution of,
114, 116, 120, 125, 127, 129- 119-22
31, 136-37, 145, 147, 163; Composition with twelve tones,
Schoenberg's concept of, 58, 42-48, 53, 60-66, 127 (see
62-63 also Twelve- tone technique)
Consonance and dissonance, 26-
27, 56-58, 65, 67-68, 88-94,
Bach, Johann Sebastian, 17, 37, 104, 150-51
143/t, 150 Copland, Aaron, 118
Banshee, 124/z Third Symphony, 117-18, 177
Bartok, B61a, 55, 104 ill.

Music for Strings, Percussion Couperin, Francois, 37

and Celesta, 91-92, 94, 96, Cowell, Henry, 124«, 172n
112, 164-65 ill.
Beethoven, Ludwig van, 39, 45«, Dallapiccola, Luigi, 71-72, 106
78, 100, 143/2, 144w, 150 Dance music, 101
"Eroica" Symphony, 45n Dead Mourn the Living, The,
Piano Sonatas, 45n 181 ill.

Berg, Alban, 68, 90; twelve-tone Debussy, Claude, 18, 77-78, 85,
technique of, 160-61 ill. 95, 103, 105, 113, 136; tonal-
Violin Concerto, 68, 160-61 ///., ity of, 39-47, 77, 80, 156-57
161-63 ill.

Berlioz, Hector, 120 La cathedrale engloutie, 46,

Biblical chant, 32, 34, 36, 40-42, 157 ill.
46, 95, 155 ill. La Mer, 121
Bitonality, 77-79, 82; Debussy's, Reflets dans Veau, 40-43, 156
45, 78, 136 ill.

Blacher, Boris, 106 Dissonance and consonance, see

Boulez, Pierre, Piano Sonata No. Consonance
1, 115-17, 174 ill. Dissonances, gradation of, 88«
Brahms, Johannes, 17, 39, 144« Don Giovanni (Mozart), 107/1
British music, developments in, Durand, J., 41
40, 48, 52, 117, 118, 129w
Britten, Benjamin, Rape of Lu- Electronic music, 123-26, 138, 145
cretia, 116-17, 175-76 ill. Elektra (Strauss), 38

189
 190 / Index
English developments, see British Mahler, Gustav, 18, 38, 51, 77,
music 86, 118, 144n
"Eroica" Symphony, 45« Mer, La, 111
Metre, 98-99, 106
Fetis, Joseph, 25 Milhaud, Darius, 78, 79
Folk music, 36-37, 39, 40, 46, 95 Mitropoulos, Dimitri, 138
Form in music, 108-19 Modality, 19, 138
French music, developments in, Moussorgsky, Modest, 39
38, 39, 40, 48, 52, 132 Moving tonics, 84-85
Fugue, technique of, 127-28 Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 79«,
90, 100
Gabrieli, Andrea, 173 A Musical Jest, 19n
Gelatt, Roland, 138n Don Giovanni, lOln
George Lieder, 52 The Magic Flute, 155 ill

German music, developments in, Mumford, Lewis, 149

38, 39, 51, 52«
Gregorian Chant, 32-34, 36-37 New Oxford History of Music,
Gurrelieder, 51
Newsidler, Hans, 19n
Haba, Alois, 113
Harmonielehre, 54-55, 58 Orchestra Speaks, The, 102
Orchestration, 119-22
Harmonies, fluctuating, 80-87
Overtones, use of, 37, 63, 65, 125
Harmony, new concept of, 84
Harvard Dictionary of Music,
Pandiatonicism, 138
79az, 143
Hauer, Josef M., 60-61 Pan-rhythm, 101, 103, 107, 119
Pantonality, 20, 23, 48, 77-139,
Haydn, Franz Josef, 100
145, 147, 151, 162; and form,
Hill, Richard S., 60h, 66h, 69h,
108-19; as a general syn-
70
thesis, 127-38; specific facets
Hindemith, Paul, 88n
of, 88-126
Piano Concerto, 107, 169-70
PelUas and Mtlisande (Schoen-
«., 170
berg), 51
Hoffman, Richard, 72
Petrouchka, 121
Hughes, Dom Anselm, 37/1
Pierrot lunaire, 52-53
Pitch, tonical, 98
Ives, Charles, 61«, 107, 171-72
Polyphony of groups, 173
'Concord' Sonata, 82-84
Polyrhythm, Hindemith's, 169-70
Fourth Symphony, 173
ill; 173
Ives',
The Unanswered Question, 173
Polytonality, 19, 79, 138
Ivory tower, 149-51
Price, Lucien, 17«

Janacek, Leos, 78
Rameau, Jean Philippe, 38
Jewish Chant, see Biblical Chant
Rape of Lucretia, The, 116-17,
Jolivet, Andre, Piano Concerto,
175-76 ill
132-34, 178-80 ill.
Reflets dans I'Eau, 40-43
Reger, Max, 18, 51
Krenek, Ernst, 70/z Reti, Rudolph, 60, 66
The Dead Mourn the Living,
Lang, Paul Henry, 119, 126 80, 181 ill.

Liebermann, Rolf, 71 Three Allegories for Orchestra,

Liszt, Franz, 72 135-36, 182-83 ill.

Rhythm, American, 107-08; classi-

Machine music, 138, 144/1 cal, 98-99, 105; modern
Magic Flute, The, 155 ill trends in, 101-08
 Index / 191
Romanticism, romantic period, Sacre du Printemps, 53n
100, 104, 120, 143 Style and Idea, 68«, 112n
Rufer, Josef, 71, 72, 106«
Russia, 39 Thematic Process in Music, The,
90«, 114
Themes, use of, 112-13
Sachs, Curt, 36n, 123n Tonal centre, 85
Sacre du Printemps, 53n Tonality, 7-48, 83, 86, 116-17,
Salome, 38 127, 137; abandonment of,
Satie, Eric, 18, 47 18-19, 31; atonal, 87; cross-
Scales, 29n, 36; in Debussy, 46 ing, 98, 136; Debussy's, q.v.;
Schenker, Heinrich, 30 extended (or expanded), 19,
Schmitz, E. Robert, 4 In 20, 85-86, 138; harmonic (or
Schnabel, Artur, 46/z classical), 25-31, 33-35, 37-
Schoenberg, Arnold, 30, 38, 51- 39, 46-47, 52, 81, 86, 95, 98,
69, 72, 77, 89, 113, 126, 136, 105; long-established concept
161, 171, 172 of, 18, 20, 31; melodic, 32-
Chamber Symphony, 1st, 52 35, 37, 39, 47, 81, 86, 95, 98,
Five Pieces for Orchestra, 52, 135, 155 ill; Schoenberg's
121 attitude to, 62-63, 68 (see
Four Songs with Orchestra, 54 also Twelve-tone technique);
George Lieder, 52 through pitches, 95-98, 115;
Gurrelieder, 51 two types of, 133-35; unde-
PelUas and Mtlisande, 51 fined, 86
Piano Pieces, 52, 53, 60n Tonics, movable, 84-85, 87, 95
Pierrot lunaire, 52, 53 Transfigured Night, 51
String Quartets, 51, 52, 64-65, Tristan und Isolde, 31, 38
111, 159 ill Twelve-tone technique, 18-19,
Style and Idea, 68«, 112w 53w, 53, 59, 60-66, 87, 111-
Textbook on harmony, 54-55, 13, 115, 126, 127-31, 135-38,
58 159-61 ill, 161-63, 171; in
Transfigured Night, 51 evolution, 67-73; motival or
Schreker, Franz, 55 non-motival row in, 69-70;
Schumann, Robert, 144n Schoenberg's invention of,
Scriabin, Alexander, 47, 77 61-63
Searle, Humphrey, 72
Seiber, Matyas, 72 Unanswered Question, The, 173
Shore, Bernard, 102
Sibelius, Jan, 86 Varese, Edgar, 124w
Slonimsky, Nicolas, 138 Vaughan Williams, Ralph, 117
Spanish music, 39, 40, 48 Vienna, 51, 52
Stein, Erwin, 61 n
Strauss, Richard, 18, 38, 51, 78, Wagner, Richard, 17, 31, 38, 39,
86, 118 78, 106, 144n
Elektra, 38 Webern, Anton, Five Movements
Salome, 38 for String Quartet, 93-94, 96-
Symphonic Poems, 38, 121 97, 122, 166-67 ill
Strawinsky, Igor, 53n, 78, 79, Wellesz, Egon, 52n, 60n, 158 ill.
103-05, 138, 173 Whitehead, Alfred North, 17
L'Histoire du Soldat, 168 ill.
Petrouchka, 121 Zillig, Winfried, 72
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