Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Oh, Palestrina
I�m about ready to give my first midterm as an academic, and I thought a look back on the experience of teaching first-semester music theory at Brooklyn College wouldn�t be inappropriate.
I absolutely love it. I also teach third-semester ear-training and have two private composition students. But the theory class is the course I prepare for the most, think about the most, and look forward to the most. It�s a class of twenty-six students, and the level of ability varies considerably. Some can barely identify intervals, others are counterpoint naturals to whom I�ve given a little extra work. My office hours are a steady stream of slightly frazzled students earnestly trying to wrap their minds around the succession of intervals rule and dissonance treatment. Lectures are a grand ole time during which we try to uncrack cantus firmi and connect tonic and dominant triads in smooth, irrefutable ways. I get to play the piano, sometimes we �sing,� and they laugh at my jokes. Sure sometimes the grading is a pain in the butt, and the other textbook we�re using, �Harmony in Context� by Miguel Roig-Francoli, is sometimes infuriating; but to see poor students working hard and gradually getting a little better is undeniably rewarding.
But what I really wanted to blog about was Palestrina. I had the fortune of being ushered into Palestrina style by the late great David Lewin, so I�ve always valued 16th century polyphony as an important skill. But revisiting the species this semester, under the guidance of Lewin�s rules (derived from Knud Jeppesen�s), has engendered in me a love and admiration for Palestrina�s music I�ve never had before.
I�ve voraciously re-read many sections from Jeppesen�s �Counterpoint� and slammed my way through �The Palestrina Style and the Dissoance� while riding the subway. I�ve combed my way through the Pope Marcellus Mass with awe and excitement: the elegance and fluidity with which Palestrina handles six polyphonic lines � never exceeding, from bass to soprano, the space of two-octaves-and-a-fifth, the serene motion of his melodic energy, the refinement of his rhythm, the naturalness with which he glides through dissonance � all this takes my breath away. Listening to Palestrina intensely as I have recently has made me love other music � be it Beethoven or Ligeti � more, because that music seems cruder, bolder, more human, more expressive. Bach is bloodier for me now than he ever has been; Beethoven is more characterful, Sibelius more thrilling. The relief into which Palestrina throws other composers is alone worth studying his style: he is the perfect circle other geniuses alter, bend, twist, and shatter.
If I were redesigning the course, I�d spend it all on 16th century counterpoint. As a final project, I�d make all the students write three-part imitative compositions to make them get all those triads Palestrina is so masterful at weaving into his lines. Then, second semester, we�d move to Bach and begin working on four-part chorale harmonizations.
Hopefully I�ll get to do it next year.
posted by David Salvage
9:09 PM
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