Music Education
Music Education: How to Instill Relevance in an Ever-Changing Society
Plato is widely credited with writing that: “Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.” Although many scholars dispute whether Plato was the true source of that quote, one aspect of music is beyond dispute. Countless studies reveal that music education improves our children’s social ability, literacy, concentration, fine motor skills, creative thinking, study habits, and even their self-esteem. Yet, schools are cutting back on music education opportunities and students are turning away from the music classes that are offered. That is because music education has not adapted to our changing culture.
I was fortunate to attend an elementary school in which every student was required to learn to play a traditional instrument—band or orchestra—of the student’s choice. By 5th grade graduation, every student had at least three years’ exposure to making music both instrumentally and vocally. By middle school, the focus changed. There, one had to be a member of a band or a choir to stay musically involved. The number of students who chose this route decreased drastically. The focus on both formal group performance and classical music intensified in high school and college. Accordingly, the number of students who studied music also continued to fall. The clear majority of students were turning away from music as it was being taught in their schools. My experience is not unique. It is the pattern in virtually every school system in the country.
But, the students were not turning away from music. To the contrary, it was a major part of their lives. According to Statista.com, the U.S. music industry is a $15.6 billion industry, with live concerts accounting for $4.7 billion of that activity. Yet, formal ensemble performances constitute only a miniscule portion of that; and all need subsidies to survive. Technology brings music into the lives of people of all ages. One can hear music at any time and control what and when it is heard without ever attending a concert.
There is something about music that is ingrained in the human soul. We can imagine our earliest ancestors huddled around a fire and making music (perhaps by banging rocks or sticks together, certainly by singing) to strengthen the bonds among them. Indeed, music is the most intimate and emotionally charged contact people can share without touching. It will always be with us in some form. That raises the question of what is the purpose of music education? Is it to teach students how to understand and appreciate music in all its forms so that it may become an integral part of their lives? Or, is it to introduce them to one aspect of music, admittedly beautiful and important, that they will experience in passing before moving on to other things? Many believe that current music education is stuck in the latter structure. They believe that music educators should keep music relevant and interesting to students by encouraging them to pursue music outside the concert hall.
John Kratus, a professor of music education at Michigan State University, discusses both issues and possible solutions to music education in an article in the Music Educators Journal: “Music Education at the Tipping Point” (2007). Kratus believes that music education has suffered through being perceived as culturally irrelevant and unnecessary. He extensively references a report regarding music education in California schools, which found that the percentage of all California public school students involved in music education courses fell by 50 percent.[1]
Kratus believes that music education is at a tipping point.[2] By this, he means that small events can accumulate and cause large scale transformations once a critical mass—or tipping point—has been reached. He concludes that culture and music education have become disconnected from each other. While society has become more individualized, formal music education is still focused on the band movement.
Kratus concludes that, “. . .the nature of music education should reflect the cultural and social milieu in which it exists.” He cites examples of techniques that can be relevant to current interests and musical trends in the world (e.g. a ukulele movement in New Zealand schools). He also suggests other new directions for music education, such as “. . . ethnic ensembles, popular music ensembles, songwriting classes, and composition classes . . . .”
I believe that Kratus has identified a real problem in music education. He looked at the current issue of relevance from a holistic perspective; considering many factors that could potentially contribute to a decline of interest in music education.
Robert H. Woody, an associate professor of music education in the School of Music at the University of Nebraska, picked up the discussion in his article “Popular Music in School: Remixing the Issues”, in the Music Educators Journal (2007). Woody discussed methods of providing vernacular opportunities for growing and learning musicians through the implementation of popular music into the current school curriculum.
Woody argues that popular music should not only be included, but should be authentic, because it is the “. . . ‘native’ music culture. . .” of current students. Woody states that instead of trying to fit learning popular music into a classical model, educators should focus on the music’s “. . .emotional and expressive qualities and its relationship to its social and cultural context”.
Woody also believes that the best way to learn about all types of music, especially popular music, is to actively engage with it and to make it. The teacher must take the role of a facilitator, allowing the students to discover, learn from others, and make their own decisions. Woody clarifies, however, that popular music should not completely take over other types of music in education, and that the educator must always make sure that there is an underlying learning objective.
Both articles deal with a topic that will be very important to me as an educator. The purpose of a teacher is not merely to communicate knowledge. A phone book does that. The goal of an educator is to enrich the lives of the students by imparting knowledge that will be meaningful and important, in a way that they will understand and be able to apply to their lives.
Music is engrained in every person. Children love to sing, dance, and make music. They will do so at every opportunity. And, it helps them learn. My kindergarten teacher, who suffered from dyslexia herself, overcame her difficulty and found a way to teach us the alphabet, the names of the states, and other basic information by creating a song for each. Even today, humming some of the songs brings back the lists of information to me.
I believe that I should incorporate methods like these into my teaching, regardless of the school level. I think that elementary schools do a great job of making music interactive, and that upper-level education should model their programs after the elementary schools. For example, if I were a middle school band director, instead of simply playing in a band formation, I could apply creative techniques to accomplish curricular goals, but also accomplish other learning outcomes. Firstly, the most important thing is the selection of music. Again, I don’t think the traditional band repertoire or classical music in any sense should be abandoned. It is a key part of our culture. But, I would select a diverse array of music—everything from non-Western cultural music to popular music. I would want to be as authentic as possible in my teaching. For example, if I chose to teach an African song, I would want to incorporate the actual African percussion instruments that would have been appropriate at the time and in the style of the piece (because African songs tend to focus a lot on rhythm/percussion). I would also want to give my students a background of the piece—e.g. the historical context of it, the significance of it, how it relates to other music and cultures, etc. If I chose a popular piece, I would follow a similar process.
I also think it’s very important that the students get a say in what the band should play. Instead of me simply selecting all the music, I would create a system where the students could recommend certain genres/styles of music (or even specific band pieces if they knew of any). This would give the students a feeling that they can impact the band program and that they are not simply passive learners.
At the collegiate level, music education majors are in a traditional environment: focused on classical music, ensemble performances, individual practice, instrument mastery, and intense exposure to music theory. This produces very good musicians with strong theoretical foundations. But, it does not promote creativity, innovation, or the integration of music in all its forms. If music education must adapt to the changing culture, as Kratus and Woody claim, then the source of music educators, the college curriculum, must begin to change as well. Future music educators must be equipped to integrate vernacular learning into their teaching.
I do not believe that everything in the traditional music education approach, and the focus on classical music, must be abandoned and replaced by garage bands without teachers. The richness, subtlety, and emotional intensity of classical music can benefit the popular ear. Indeed, many popular songs can find their origin in, or were blatantly stolen from, classical music. For example, Elvis Presley’s famous “I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” is a “modern” take on Martini’s “Plaisir d’amour”, Vitamin C’s “Graduation (Friends Forever)” is based on Pachelbel’s “Canon in D Major”, and Jem’s “They” is just Bach’s “Prelude in F minor”, among many others (O’Keefe, 2013). Good music is appealing, regardless of its form.
It is widely acknowledged that our nation’s educational system does not serve all students equally well, and that American students, as a whole, do not compare favorably to students of other countries. Music education, through its non-musical benefits, has the potential to contribute to closing those learning gaps. Yet, students are turning away from how music is taught in the schools and, in response, school systems are eliminating music programs. Alfred Einstein once defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. To survive, and to contribute, music education must change how it is presented to the students.
[1] The information on California schools came from a 2004 report published by Music for All Foundation, an advocacy organization, using 1999-2004 data from the California Department of Education.
[2] This concept is based upon Malcolm Gladwell’s 2000 book: The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference.
Plato is widely credited with writing that: “Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.” Although many scholars dispute whether Plato was the true source of that quote, one aspect of music is beyond dispute. Countless studies reveal that music education improves our children’s social ability, literacy, concentration, fine motor skills, creative thinking, study habits, and even their self-esteem. Yet, schools are cutting back on music education opportunities and students are turning away from the music classes that are offered. That is because music education has not adapted to our changing culture.
I was fortunate to attend an elementary school in which every student was required to learn to play a traditional instrument—band or orchestra—of the student’s choice. By 5th grade graduation, every student had at least three years’ exposure to making music both instrumentally and vocally. By middle school, the focus changed. There, one had to be a member of a band or a choir to stay musically involved. The number of students who chose this route decreased drastically. The focus on both formal group performance and classical music intensified in high school and college. Accordingly, the number of students who studied music also continued to fall. The clear majority of students were turning away from music as it was being taught in their schools. My experience is not unique. It is the pattern in virtually every school system in the country.
But, the students were not turning away from music. To the contrary, it was a major part of their lives. According to Statista.com, the U.S. music industry is a $15.6 billion industry, with live concerts accounting for $4.7 billion of that activity. Yet, formal ensemble performances constitute only a miniscule portion of that; and all need subsidies to survive. Technology brings music into the lives of people of all ages. One can hear music at any time and control what and when it is heard without ever attending a concert.
There is something about music that is ingrained in the human soul. We can imagine our earliest ancestors huddled around a fire and making music (perhaps by banging rocks or sticks together, certainly by singing) to strengthen the bonds among them. Indeed, music is the most intimate and emotionally charged contact people can share without touching. It will always be with us in some form. That raises the question of what is the purpose of music education? Is it to teach students how to understand and appreciate music in all its forms so that it may become an integral part of their lives? Or, is it to introduce them to one aspect of music, admittedly beautiful and important, that they will experience in passing before moving on to other things? Many believe that current music education is stuck in the latter structure. They believe that music educators should keep music relevant and interesting to students by encouraging them to pursue music outside the concert hall.
John Kratus, a professor of music education at Michigan State University, discusses both issues and possible solutions to music education in an article in the Music Educators Journal: “Music Education at the Tipping Point” (2007). Kratus believes that music education has suffered through being perceived as culturally irrelevant and unnecessary. He extensively references a report regarding music education in California schools, which found that the percentage of all California public school students involved in music education courses fell by 50 percent.[1]
Kratus believes that music education is at a tipping point.[2] By this, he means that small events can accumulate and cause large scale transformations once a critical mass—or tipping point—has been reached. He concludes that culture and music education have become disconnected from each other. While society has become more individualized, formal music education is still focused on the band movement.
Kratus concludes that, “. . .the nature of music education should reflect the cultural and social milieu in which it exists.” He cites examples of techniques that can be relevant to current interests and musical trends in the world (e.g. a ukulele movement in New Zealand schools). He also suggests other new directions for music education, such as “. . . ethnic ensembles, popular music ensembles, songwriting classes, and composition classes . . . .”
I believe that Kratus has identified a real problem in music education. He looked at the current issue of relevance from a holistic perspective; considering many factors that could potentially contribute to a decline of interest in music education.
Robert H. Woody, an associate professor of music education in the School of Music at the University of Nebraska, picked up the discussion in his article “Popular Music in School: Remixing the Issues”, in the Music Educators Journal (2007). Woody discussed methods of providing vernacular opportunities for growing and learning musicians through the implementation of popular music into the current school curriculum.
Woody argues that popular music should not only be included, but should be authentic, because it is the “. . . ‘native’ music culture. . .” of current students. Woody states that instead of trying to fit learning popular music into a classical model, educators should focus on the music’s “. . .emotional and expressive qualities and its relationship to its social and cultural context”.
Woody also believes that the best way to learn about all types of music, especially popular music, is to actively engage with it and to make it. The teacher must take the role of a facilitator, allowing the students to discover, learn from others, and make their own decisions. Woody clarifies, however, that popular music should not completely take over other types of music in education, and that the educator must always make sure that there is an underlying learning objective.
Both articles deal with a topic that will be very important to me as an educator. The purpose of a teacher is not merely to communicate knowledge. A phone book does that. The goal of an educator is to enrich the lives of the students by imparting knowledge that will be meaningful and important, in a way that they will understand and be able to apply to their lives.
Music is engrained in every person. Children love to sing, dance, and make music. They will do so at every opportunity. And, it helps them learn. My kindergarten teacher, who suffered from dyslexia herself, overcame her difficulty and found a way to teach us the alphabet, the names of the states, and other basic information by creating a song for each. Even today, humming some of the songs brings back the lists of information to me.
I believe that I should incorporate methods like these into my teaching, regardless of the school level. I think that elementary schools do a great job of making music interactive, and that upper-level education should model their programs after the elementary schools. For example, if I were a middle school band director, instead of simply playing in a band formation, I could apply creative techniques to accomplish curricular goals, but also accomplish other learning outcomes. Firstly, the most important thing is the selection of music. Again, I don’t think the traditional band repertoire or classical music in any sense should be abandoned. It is a key part of our culture. But, I would select a diverse array of music—everything from non-Western cultural music to popular music. I would want to be as authentic as possible in my teaching. For example, if I chose to teach an African song, I would want to incorporate the actual African percussion instruments that would have been appropriate at the time and in the style of the piece (because African songs tend to focus a lot on rhythm/percussion). I would also want to give my students a background of the piece—e.g. the historical context of it, the significance of it, how it relates to other music and cultures, etc. If I chose a popular piece, I would follow a similar process.
I also think it’s very important that the students get a say in what the band should play. Instead of me simply selecting all the music, I would create a system where the students could recommend certain genres/styles of music (or even specific band pieces if they knew of any). This would give the students a feeling that they can impact the band program and that they are not simply passive learners.
At the collegiate level, music education majors are in a traditional environment: focused on classical music, ensemble performances, individual practice, instrument mastery, and intense exposure to music theory. This produces very good musicians with strong theoretical foundations. But, it does not promote creativity, innovation, or the integration of music in all its forms. If music education must adapt to the changing culture, as Kratus and Woody claim, then the source of music educators, the college curriculum, must begin to change as well. Future music educators must be equipped to integrate vernacular learning into their teaching.
I do not believe that everything in the traditional music education approach, and the focus on classical music, must be abandoned and replaced by garage bands without teachers. The richness, subtlety, and emotional intensity of classical music can benefit the popular ear. Indeed, many popular songs can find their origin in, or were blatantly stolen from, classical music. For example, Elvis Presley’s famous “I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” is a “modern” take on Martini’s “Plaisir d’amour”, Vitamin C’s “Graduation (Friends Forever)” is based on Pachelbel’s “Canon in D Major”, and Jem’s “They” is just Bach’s “Prelude in F minor”, among many others (O’Keefe, 2013). Good music is appealing, regardless of its form.
It is widely acknowledged that our nation’s educational system does not serve all students equally well, and that American students, as a whole, do not compare favorably to students of other countries. Music education, through its non-musical benefits, has the potential to contribute to closing those learning gaps. Yet, students are turning away from how music is taught in the schools and, in response, school systems are eliminating music programs. Alfred Einstein once defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. To survive, and to contribute, music education must change how it is presented to the students.
[1] The information on California schools came from a 2004 report published by Music for All Foundation, an advocacy organization, using 1999-2004 data from the California Department of Education.
[2] This concept is based upon Malcolm Gladwell’s 2000 book: The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference.
Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata
Beethoven wrote the Op. 27 sonata when he was in his early 30s. In many ways, the tragedy that occurs in this composition reflects Beethoven’s personal hearing loss. Beethoven named this piece, written in 18001801, the Pf. Sonata No.14 in C ♯ minor. The poet Heinrich Rellstab contributed the expressive title for this piece in circulation today in a popular review, comparing the music to an evening with tranquil moonlight on Lake Lucerne. Although Rellstab popularized this imagery in association with this work, closer analysis will reveal intense conflict as various elements battle for supremacy.
The Moonlight Sonata includes modulations and atypical chord progressions which add to its unpredictability, making the form more undefined. In the first movement, the arpeggios gradually begin to engulf the melody in the soprano line that begins in measure five. By the middle of the piece, around measure 28, the arpeggios appear to eliminate the melody altogether. The melody attempts to come back at the pickup to measure 43, and ends up resting on a C# in measure 51, exuding a false sense of security. The tonal work of the piece is finished, but the story of the power struggle is not. The melody then falls abruptly to a Perfect Authentic Cadence and suddenly disappears. By measure 60, the tenor part features a faint memory of the melody, now deprived of its expressive content and relegated to a simple rhythmic figure, reinforcing a tragic narrative.
In the Moonlight Sonata, Beethoven often inserts the Neapolitan chord into his progressions. The Neapolitan harmony appears in many guises, functioning as either a structural predominant (mm.#’s) or tonic embellishment (mm.#’s). In one case (mm. 12) he gives the chord a root position status, where it serves as the pivot chord in between E minor (VI) and B minor (♭II). In all of these cases, the chord itself is significant, but it also helps lead into significant chords and cadences. For example, the ♭II６ chord in measure 50 is followed by a V７ which then cadences to C# (scale degree 1). The ♭II６ chord led us into a significant resting point where the clash between the melody and harmony intensifies. The use of the Neapolitan chord reinforces the theme of inner conflict within the piece that eventually overwhelms and subdues the melody. The tranquil beginning evolves into a powerful wave in which essentially the same progression appears as a more elaborate approach to one of the final cadences of the first movement (measures 5051). The Neapolitan chord adds to the complex and mysterious structure of the Moonlight Sonata.
The pattern of the struggle between melody and harmony is established at the start of the piece. An instrumental lead-in introduces the C ♯ minor tonality with gentle arpeggios and a simple baseline that gradually descends. The melody then begins its
descent from G# while the harmony transitions through a pivot F# minor chord into the relative major. A modal change to E minor and then a modulation to B minor punctuate the next phrase, continuing a pattern of ascending fifth modulations that impact the
piece significantly by both clouding our sense of the home key and contradicting the descending motion of the melody. The simplicity of the beginning becomes more complicated; the relationship between melody and harmony starts to become unclear.
Like a light breaking through the harmonic fog, the tonic key reemerges in measure 2 5 abruptly reaching a prominent half cadence as the melody submerges itself, falling to B# as lower third embellishment of the structural D#, scale degree 2. A pedal on the Dominant prolongs the static B# starting in measure 28 as arpeggios embellish the prevailing harmony. The harmony becomes dominant, but does not hold this position for long. In measure 42, this section of chaos and tragedy seems to momentarily subside as the melody resurfaces, and restates the opening phrase with its move to the relative major. The piece modulates directly back to C ♯ Minor by measure 42 instead of wandering through a series of ascending fifths, appropriating the melody foreshadowed in measures 39-40 to close the phrase albeit in an appropriate melodic register. This return to tonic through a direct modulation featuring a pronounced voice exchanged (borrowing from measures 19-20 and 12 to a lesser extent) seems to stabilize the piece, restoring order and bringing the melody back to the forefront perhaps avoiding the foreboding tragic outcome. The return to the home key adds a sense of comfort that the unfamiliar keys could not provide. The melody eventually rests on C# (mm.51) in the soprano line as the arpeggiation flows underneath. This rest seems to indicate harmonic
closure. However, the illusory appearance of stability fades as the thematic reprise of m.16 activates. The C# gradually begins to descend in pitch starting in measure 56, cadencing in measure 60, and then disappearing.
Arpeggiation completely takes over the right hand in measure 60 in a codetta, officially burying the melody. The melody attempts to come back one last time in the baritone part, but is only able to come back as a rhythmic motive, eliminating any shred of individuality that once existed. The melody accepts its fate yielding to the subjugation of the inevitable ostinato figuration. For the majority of the piece, it seemed as though the melody would triumph over its context. The oppressive hierarchy of the piece grew
stronger as the arpeggios gradually redirected and swallowed up the melody. Even though the surface of the lake may appear calm to the observer on shore, an analysis of what is happening beneath the surface reveals strong currents in conflict, vying for
dominance in the Moonlight Sonata.
SOURCES
“Beethoven, the Moonlight and other Sonatas, op. 27 and op. 31”, Timothy Jones, Cambridge University Press, ISBN: 0521591368, 9780521591362, 11/01/1999
Kennedy, Michael. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Music . N.p.: Oxford UP, n.d. Print. Kerman, Joseph. "Beethoven, Ludwig Van, §5: 1801–2: Deafness." Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, n.d. Web. 20 Apr. 2016. <http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.ezproxy.lib.vt.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/40026pg5?=beethoven+moonlight+sonata&search=quick&pos=7&_start=1>.
Schwarm, Betsy. "Moonlight Sonata." Encyclopedia Britannica Online . Encyclopedia Britannica, n.d. Web. 21 Apr. 2016.
<http://www.britannica.com/topic/MoonlightSonata>.
Thompson, Harold. "College Music Symposium." An Evolutionary View of Neapolitan Formations in Beethoven's Pianoforte Sonatas . College Music Society, 18 Jan. 2014. Web. 20 Apr. 2016.
<http://symposium.music.org/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=1877%3Aan
evolutionaryviewofneapolitanformationsinbeethovenspianofortesonatas
&I temid=124>.
Beethoven wrote the Op. 27 sonata when he was in his early 30s. In many ways, the tragedy that occurs in this composition reflects Beethoven’s personal hearing loss. Beethoven named this piece, written in 18001801, the Pf. Sonata No.14 in C ♯ minor. The poet Heinrich Rellstab contributed the expressive title for this piece in circulation today in a popular review, comparing the music to an evening with tranquil moonlight on Lake Lucerne. Although Rellstab popularized this imagery in association with this work, closer analysis will reveal intense conflict as various elements battle for supremacy.
The Moonlight Sonata includes modulations and atypical chord progressions which add to its unpredictability, making the form more undefined. In the first movement, the arpeggios gradually begin to engulf the melody in the soprano line that begins in measure five. By the middle of the piece, around measure 28, the arpeggios appear to eliminate the melody altogether. The melody attempts to come back at the pickup to measure 43, and ends up resting on a C# in measure 51, exuding a false sense of security. The tonal work of the piece is finished, but the story of the power struggle is not. The melody then falls abruptly to a Perfect Authentic Cadence and suddenly disappears. By measure 60, the tenor part features a faint memory of the melody, now deprived of its expressive content and relegated to a simple rhythmic figure, reinforcing a tragic narrative.
In the Moonlight Sonata, Beethoven often inserts the Neapolitan chord into his progressions. The Neapolitan harmony appears in many guises, functioning as either a structural predominant (mm.#’s) or tonic embellishment (mm.#’s). In one case (mm. 12) he gives the chord a root position status, where it serves as the pivot chord in between E minor (VI) and B minor (♭II). In all of these cases, the chord itself is significant, but it also helps lead into significant chords and cadences. For example, the ♭II６ chord in measure 50 is followed by a V７ which then cadences to C# (scale degree 1). The ♭II６ chord led us into a significant resting point where the clash between the melody and harmony intensifies. The use of the Neapolitan chord reinforces the theme of inner conflict within the piece that eventually overwhelms and subdues the melody. The tranquil beginning evolves into a powerful wave in which essentially the same progression appears as a more elaborate approach to one of the final cadences of the first movement (measures 5051). The Neapolitan chord adds to the complex and mysterious structure of the Moonlight Sonata.
The pattern of the struggle between melody and harmony is established at the start of the piece. An instrumental lead-in introduces the C ♯ minor tonality with gentle arpeggios and a simple baseline that gradually descends. The melody then begins its
descent from G# while the harmony transitions through a pivot F# minor chord into the relative major. A modal change to E minor and then a modulation to B minor punctuate the next phrase, continuing a pattern of ascending fifth modulations that impact the
piece significantly by both clouding our sense of the home key and contradicting the descending motion of the melody. The simplicity of the beginning becomes more complicated; the relationship between melody and harmony starts to become unclear.
Like a light breaking through the harmonic fog, the tonic key reemerges in measure 2 5 abruptly reaching a prominent half cadence as the melody submerges itself, falling to B# as lower third embellishment of the structural D#, scale degree 2. A pedal on the Dominant prolongs the static B# starting in measure 28 as arpeggios embellish the prevailing harmony. The harmony becomes dominant, but does not hold this position for long. In measure 42, this section of chaos and tragedy seems to momentarily subside as the melody resurfaces, and restates the opening phrase with its move to the relative major. The piece modulates directly back to C ♯ Minor by measure 42 instead of wandering through a series of ascending fifths, appropriating the melody foreshadowed in measures 39-40 to close the phrase albeit in an appropriate melodic register. This return to tonic through a direct modulation featuring a pronounced voice exchanged (borrowing from measures 19-20 and 12 to a lesser extent) seems to stabilize the piece, restoring order and bringing the melody back to the forefront perhaps avoiding the foreboding tragic outcome. The return to the home key adds a sense of comfort that the unfamiliar keys could not provide. The melody eventually rests on C# (mm.51) in the soprano line as the arpeggiation flows underneath. This rest seems to indicate harmonic
closure. However, the illusory appearance of stability fades as the thematic reprise of m.16 activates. The C# gradually begins to descend in pitch starting in measure 56, cadencing in measure 60, and then disappearing.
Arpeggiation completely takes over the right hand in measure 60 in a codetta, officially burying the melody. The melody attempts to come back one last time in the baritone part, but is only able to come back as a rhythmic motive, eliminating any shred of individuality that once existed. The melody accepts its fate yielding to the subjugation of the inevitable ostinato figuration. For the majority of the piece, it seemed as though the melody would triumph over its context. The oppressive hierarchy of the piece grew
stronger as the arpeggios gradually redirected and swallowed up the melody. Even though the surface of the lake may appear calm to the observer on shore, an analysis of what is happening beneath the surface reveals strong currents in conflict, vying for
dominance in the Moonlight Sonata.
SOURCES
“Beethoven, the Moonlight and other Sonatas, op. 27 and op. 31”, Timothy Jones, Cambridge University Press, ISBN: 0521591368, 9780521591362, 11/01/1999
Kennedy, Michael. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Music . N.p.: Oxford UP, n.d. Print. Kerman, Joseph. "Beethoven, Ludwig Van, §5: 1801–2: Deafness." Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, n.d. Web. 20 Apr. 2016. <http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.ezproxy.lib.vt.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/40026pg5?=beethoven+moonlight+sonata&search=quick&pos=7&_start=1>.
Schwarm, Betsy. "Moonlight Sonata." Encyclopedia Britannica Online . Encyclopedia Britannica, n.d. Web. 21 Apr. 2016.
<http://www.britannica.com/topic/MoonlightSonata>.
Thompson, Harold. "College Music Symposium." An Evolutionary View of Neapolitan Formations in Beethoven's Pianoforte Sonatas . College Music Society, 18 Jan. 2014. Web. 20 Apr. 2016.
<http://symposium.music.org/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=1877%3Aan
evolutionaryviewofneapolitanformationsinbeethovenspianofortesonatas
&I temid=124>.
Spanish
“Qué Dirán” en La casa de Bernarda Alba
La obra, La casa de Bernarda Alba, fue escrito por Federico García Lorca, un autor de España, en 1936. Se trata de Bernarda, una madre severa, y sus cinco hijas, quienes comienzan un período de luto de ocho años después de la muerte del padre. Para Bernarda, mantener una “buena fachada” (365) y evitar los chismes sobre su familia es de gran importancia. Ella impone reglas estrictas en su hogar para parecer una familia ideal para los de afuera, lo que lleva a la tensión y, finalmente, al suicidio de Adela, la hija más joven. El tema de “qué dirán” impregna esta obra, especialmente a través del personaje de Bernarda. La obsesión de Bernarda en "qué dirán" en lugar de familia es evidente en la obra de tres maneras: a través de esconder el mal estado mental de su madre de los vecinos en lugar de mantenerla sana, como lo haría una hija normal; a través de negar que los problemas de sus hijas existan cuando hay pruebas claras, con la esperanza de que pueda evitar los chismes; y, a través de su decisión final de elegir "qué dirán" en lugar de llorar cuando Adela se ahorca. Esta obra se puede leer como un cuento de moralidad que informa a los lectores de cómo la atención excesiva a "qué dirán" puede llevar a consecuencias negativas, como el descuido de la familia.
La obsesión de Bernarda con "qué dirán" la lleva a tratar a su madre, María Josefa, como prisionera. Bernarda mantiene a María Josefa encerrada y escondida de la vista de los vecinos, porque ella es un poco loca. Bernarda cree que controlar la vida de su madre en una manera estricta evita los chismes de los vecinos. Es evidente cuando Bernarda y La Criada, la trabajadora menos importante que La Poncia (la otra criada), comienzan a hablar sobre María Josefa. La Criada describe cómo ella tiene que “. . . taparle varias veces la boca [de María Josefa] con un costal vacío porque quería llamarte [a Bernarda] para que le dieras agua de fregar siquiera para beber, y carne de perro. . .” (344). Bernarda responde: “Dejadla que se desahogue en el patio” (344) y le pide a La Criada que mantenga a María Josefa alejada del pozo porque “. . .desde aquel sitio las vecinas pueden verla desde su ventana.” (344). Cuando María Josefa describe como le dan "agua de fregar" y "carne de perro", indica que ella cree que está siendo tratada como prisionera. Una hija cariñosa trataría a su madre con simpatía y amor. Bernarda no es una hija normal y afectuosa. Cuando Bernarda dice a La Criada dejar a María Josefa afuera para que "se desahogue en el patio", es casi como si Bernarda estuviera desenganchando temporalmente sus cadenas de poder del cuello de una prisionera. María Josefa no es libre en realidad, y tiene restricciones en cuanto a dónde puede vagar durante este tiempo. Toda esta opresión proviene del temor de Bernarda de que sus vecinos descubran la mala condición mental de su madre. Para cumplir el papel de una hija cariñosa, Bernarda debería admitir la presencia de María Josefa frente a los demás y aceptar el riesgo de que otros puedan chismear sobre su estado mental. Bernarda decide que la obsesión con "qué dirán" es más importante que el bienestar de su relación con su madre. "Qué dirán" conduce a la caída de esta relación madre-hija.
La preocupación de Bernarda con "qué dirán" la lleva a ignorar los problemas de sus hijas. Un buen ejemplo es cuando Bernarda descubre que Martirio, su segunda hija menor, ha escondido un retrato de Pepe el Romano, el amante de la hija mayor, debajo de su cama. Cuando Angustias, la hija mayor, descubre esto, ella está molesta, y Martirio dice que es solamente un chiste. Bernarda decide creer lo que dice Martirio y negar la posibilidad que Martirio tiene los sentimientos románticos para Pepe el Romano. Cuando La Poncia intenta que Bernarda reconozca que Martirio está interesado románticamente en Pepe el Romano, Bernarda dice: “No creo que ésta sea la <<cosa muy grande>> que aquí pasa. Aquí no pasa nada. ¡Eso quisieras tú! Y si pasa algún día, estáte segura que no traspasará las paredes.” (360). El interés romántico de Martirio en Pepe el Romano crea un gran problema en la familia. Dos hijas quieren casarse con el mismo hombre. Pero, en lugar de abordarlo, Bernarda elige ignorar el problema. Ella parece creer que negar la verdad sobre la tensión y decirle a La Poncia que "Obrar y callar a todo" (361) evitará que los chismes se extienden a los vecinos. Bernarda rechaza la posibilidad de que su familia tenga imperfecciones. Debido a su obsesión con "qué dirán", Bernarda se niega a guiar a sus hijas a través de sus problemas, y la tensión continúa creciendo y empeorando. También, nos enteramos de que Adela está enamorada de Pepe el Romano. La obsesión de Bernarda con "qué dirán" la hace no involucrarse en problemas familiares, fracasar en el papel de madre.
La mayor penetración de "qué dirán" ocurre cuando Bernarda no reacciona al suicidio de Adela con las respuestas naturales de los padres de conmoción y tristeza, y en su lugar solo se preocupa por la reputación de la familia. Su primer pensamiento es cómo prevenir las reacciones negativas de los vecinos. Cuando Bernarda descubre que Adela se ha ahorcado, algunas de sus primeras palabras son: “Mi hija ha muerto virgen! Llevadla a su cuarto y vestirla como una doncella. ¡Nadie diga nada! Ella ha muerto virgen. Avisad que al amanecer den dos clamores las campanas.” (373). La obra termina con ella exigiendo que los testigos guarden silencio. Al calificar incorrectamente a Adela como virgen y al vestirla con la ropa de doncella, Bernarda intenta encubrir las acciones impuras de Adela. Ella espera que los vecinos piensen muy bien de Adela e ignoren sus malas acciones. Los lectores no saben si Bernarda va a reaccionar emocionalmente en el futuro, pero ella solo piensa en los vecinos inicialmente, fracasando en el papel de madre cariñosa. A lo largo de toda la obra, cada acción de Bernarda ocurre para evitar los chismes y hacer que su familia se vea bien. Es irónico que en la prueba final, la muerte de su hija, ella haya fracasado por completo. Al tratar de evitar los chismes, ella solo empeora la situación. Después de la muerte, los vecinos tienen más de qué chismear que nunca. Ahora, pueden chismear sobre la muerte de Adela y hacer especulaciones horribles sobre por qué murió. Bernarda nunca tiene éxito en evitar los chismes. Para intentar alcanzar el objetivo casi imposible de controlar las palabras de sus vecinos, ella sacrifica un período de luto adecuado para su hija.
La obsesión extrema de Bernarda con "qué dirán" no lleva a una familia ordenada y perfecta, como ella espera. De hecho, Bernarda logra lo contrario. Su preocupación por "qué dirán" lleva a relaciones familiares rotas y chismes adicionales. Su relación con María Josefa, así como con Adela, se arruina, porque ella decide pensar más en los vecinos que en las necesidades de la familia. Esta obra puede leerse como un cuento de moralidad, enseñando a los lectores que dar demasiada importancia a las opiniones de los demás puede arruinar, en lugar de mejorar, la propia vida.
La obra, La casa de Bernarda Alba, fue escrito por Federico García Lorca, un autor de España, en 1936. Se trata de Bernarda, una madre severa, y sus cinco hijas, quienes comienzan un período de luto de ocho años después de la muerte del padre. Para Bernarda, mantener una “buena fachada” (365) y evitar los chismes sobre su familia es de gran importancia. Ella impone reglas estrictas en su hogar para parecer una familia ideal para los de afuera, lo que lleva a la tensión y, finalmente, al suicidio de Adela, la hija más joven. El tema de “qué dirán” impregna esta obra, especialmente a través del personaje de Bernarda. La obsesión de Bernarda en "qué dirán" en lugar de familia es evidente en la obra de tres maneras: a través de esconder el mal estado mental de su madre de los vecinos en lugar de mantenerla sana, como lo haría una hija normal; a través de negar que los problemas de sus hijas existan cuando hay pruebas claras, con la esperanza de que pueda evitar los chismes; y, a través de su decisión final de elegir "qué dirán" en lugar de llorar cuando Adela se ahorca. Esta obra se puede leer como un cuento de moralidad que informa a los lectores de cómo la atención excesiva a "qué dirán" puede llevar a consecuencias negativas, como el descuido de la familia.
La obsesión de Bernarda con "qué dirán" la lleva a tratar a su madre, María Josefa, como prisionera. Bernarda mantiene a María Josefa encerrada y escondida de la vista de los vecinos, porque ella es un poco loca. Bernarda cree que controlar la vida de su madre en una manera estricta evita los chismes de los vecinos. Es evidente cuando Bernarda y La Criada, la trabajadora menos importante que La Poncia (la otra criada), comienzan a hablar sobre María Josefa. La Criada describe cómo ella tiene que “. . . taparle varias veces la boca [de María Josefa] con un costal vacío porque quería llamarte [a Bernarda] para que le dieras agua de fregar siquiera para beber, y carne de perro. . .” (344). Bernarda responde: “Dejadla que se desahogue en el patio” (344) y le pide a La Criada que mantenga a María Josefa alejada del pozo porque “. . .desde aquel sitio las vecinas pueden verla desde su ventana.” (344). Cuando María Josefa describe como le dan "agua de fregar" y "carne de perro", indica que ella cree que está siendo tratada como prisionera. Una hija cariñosa trataría a su madre con simpatía y amor. Bernarda no es una hija normal y afectuosa. Cuando Bernarda dice a La Criada dejar a María Josefa afuera para que "se desahogue en el patio", es casi como si Bernarda estuviera desenganchando temporalmente sus cadenas de poder del cuello de una prisionera. María Josefa no es libre en realidad, y tiene restricciones en cuanto a dónde puede vagar durante este tiempo. Toda esta opresión proviene del temor de Bernarda de que sus vecinos descubran la mala condición mental de su madre. Para cumplir el papel de una hija cariñosa, Bernarda debería admitir la presencia de María Josefa frente a los demás y aceptar el riesgo de que otros puedan chismear sobre su estado mental. Bernarda decide que la obsesión con "qué dirán" es más importante que el bienestar de su relación con su madre. "Qué dirán" conduce a la caída de esta relación madre-hija.
La preocupación de Bernarda con "qué dirán" la lleva a ignorar los problemas de sus hijas. Un buen ejemplo es cuando Bernarda descubre que Martirio, su segunda hija menor, ha escondido un retrato de Pepe el Romano, el amante de la hija mayor, debajo de su cama. Cuando Angustias, la hija mayor, descubre esto, ella está molesta, y Martirio dice que es solamente un chiste. Bernarda decide creer lo que dice Martirio y negar la posibilidad que Martirio tiene los sentimientos románticos para Pepe el Romano. Cuando La Poncia intenta que Bernarda reconozca que Martirio está interesado románticamente en Pepe el Romano, Bernarda dice: “No creo que ésta sea la <<cosa muy grande>> que aquí pasa. Aquí no pasa nada. ¡Eso quisieras tú! Y si pasa algún día, estáte segura que no traspasará las paredes.” (360). El interés romántico de Martirio en Pepe el Romano crea un gran problema en la familia. Dos hijas quieren casarse con el mismo hombre. Pero, en lugar de abordarlo, Bernarda elige ignorar el problema. Ella parece creer que negar la verdad sobre la tensión y decirle a La Poncia que "Obrar y callar a todo" (361) evitará que los chismes se extienden a los vecinos. Bernarda rechaza la posibilidad de que su familia tenga imperfecciones. Debido a su obsesión con "qué dirán", Bernarda se niega a guiar a sus hijas a través de sus problemas, y la tensión continúa creciendo y empeorando. También, nos enteramos de que Adela está enamorada de Pepe el Romano. La obsesión de Bernarda con "qué dirán" la hace no involucrarse en problemas familiares, fracasar en el papel de madre.
La mayor penetración de "qué dirán" ocurre cuando Bernarda no reacciona al suicidio de Adela con las respuestas naturales de los padres de conmoción y tristeza, y en su lugar solo se preocupa por la reputación de la familia. Su primer pensamiento es cómo prevenir las reacciones negativas de los vecinos. Cuando Bernarda descubre que Adela se ha ahorcado, algunas de sus primeras palabras son: “Mi hija ha muerto virgen! Llevadla a su cuarto y vestirla como una doncella. ¡Nadie diga nada! Ella ha muerto virgen. Avisad que al amanecer den dos clamores las campanas.” (373). La obra termina con ella exigiendo que los testigos guarden silencio. Al calificar incorrectamente a Adela como virgen y al vestirla con la ropa de doncella, Bernarda intenta encubrir las acciones impuras de Adela. Ella espera que los vecinos piensen muy bien de Adela e ignoren sus malas acciones. Los lectores no saben si Bernarda va a reaccionar emocionalmente en el futuro, pero ella solo piensa en los vecinos inicialmente, fracasando en el papel de madre cariñosa. A lo largo de toda la obra, cada acción de Bernarda ocurre para evitar los chismes y hacer que su familia se vea bien. Es irónico que en la prueba final, la muerte de su hija, ella haya fracasado por completo. Al tratar de evitar los chismes, ella solo empeora la situación. Después de la muerte, los vecinos tienen más de qué chismear que nunca. Ahora, pueden chismear sobre la muerte de Adela y hacer especulaciones horribles sobre por qué murió. Bernarda nunca tiene éxito en evitar los chismes. Para intentar alcanzar el objetivo casi imposible de controlar las palabras de sus vecinos, ella sacrifica un período de luto adecuado para su hija.
La obsesión extrema de Bernarda con "qué dirán" no lleva a una familia ordenada y perfecta, como ella espera. De hecho, Bernarda logra lo contrario. Su preocupación por "qué dirán" lleva a relaciones familiares rotas y chismes adicionales. Su relación con María Josefa, así como con Adela, se arruina, porque ella decide pensar más en los vecinos que en las necesidades de la familia. Esta obra puede leerse como un cuento de moralidad, enseñando a los lectores que dar demasiada importancia a las opiniones de los demás puede arruinar, en lugar de mejorar, la propia vida.