Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Illustrations
- Preface
- Permissions
- I The Early Years
- II The 1920s in Paris
- III Last Years in Paris
- IV The Melodic Style
- V The Harmonic Style
- VI Texture and Orchestration
- VII The First Symphony
- VIII The Second Symphony
- IX The Third Symphony
- X The Fourth Symphony
- XI The Fifth Symphony
- XII Between the Symphonies
- XIII Fantaisies Symphoniques
- XIV Beyond the Symphonies
- XV Conclusion
- Appendices
- Bibliography
- Index of Works
- Technical Index
- General Index
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Contents
- Illustrations
- Preface
- Permissions
- I The Early Years
- II The 1920s in Paris
- III Last Years in Paris
- IV The Melodic Style
- V The Harmonic Style
- VI Texture and Orchestration
- VII The First Symphony
- VIII The Second Symphony
- IX The Third Symphony
- X The Fourth Symphony
- XI The Fifth Symphony
- XII Between the Symphonies
- XIII Fantaisies Symphoniques
- XIV Beyond the Symphonies
- XV Conclusion
- Appendices
- Bibliography
- Index of Works
- Technical Index
- General Index
Summary
Many listeners find melody to be the simplest and most direct introduction to an unfamiliar work: it lies at the surface of the music and is readily perceptible. It is the element most likely to stay in the mind or be recalled spontaneously, assuming an existence independent of the act of listening. Compositions which diminish or even abolish the role of melody – which rely more heavily upon rhythmic, harmonic or timbral effects – are correspondingly hard to absorb. It is difficult to grasp the details of a characteristic harmonic progression or a striking orchestral texture, to replay them mentally and gradually fix them in long-term memory. As a result, it is always likely that they will become familiar at a relatively late stage of acquaintance with a new work. The Martinů symphonies are no exception; indeed, their harmonic language is surprisingly elusive. Martinů is fond – perhaps even over-fond – of a number of easily identified chord-progressions and combinations, but there are few other features likely to attract the attention or declare themselves as typical. The initial impression can be disconcerting: the few readily perceptible devices seem to stand out, like ‘calling-cards’ produced as evidence of the composer’s identity. They can appear to be imposed from without, rather than arising organically from within. This impression is misleading: Martinů’s melodic and harmonic styles are in fact equally well integrated; it simply requires more effort to appreciate the cogency of the latter. There is a close analogy with the melodic language: once again, a few simple devices give rise to a network of related features, within which the various ‘calling-cards’ take their place seamlessly and logically.
Martinů remained loyal to traditional triadic structures throughout his career, even in some of his more experimental works from the 1920s. He made only occasional forays outside of this terrain and seems to have had merely an intellectual interest in harmonic systems based on non-diatonic principles. His music is often described as tonal. It would be pedantic to quarrel with this description, though at the same time I feel that the terms ‘key’ and ‘tonality’ arouse expectations only partially fulfilled by the music. The fact is perhaps best demonstrated by first referring to a very rigid and strict definition of tonality.
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- Information
- Martinu and the Symphony , pp. 127 - 150Publisher: Boydell & BrewerPrint publication year: 2010